Rose's Cantina

#477196997 / gettyimages.com Christopher Hitchens, the late gasbag contrarian wrote at least twice in Vanity Fair that women aren't funny. Joan Rivers might have suggested that perhaps Hitchens water-board himself one more time. Maybe the next time it would take. She didn't say that. I just did. But I said it because of Joan Rivers, the patron saint of sassy-assed women everywhere. Sure there were foamy-mouthed dames before Joan. Mae West. Totie Fields. But nobody did it as long and as well as our Joan. She set the bar and kicked it over a few times. I learned how to be funny because of Joan Rivers. I learned the smart comeback, honed the ability to cut down a stupid man about eight inches with a flick of the tongue, to demolish the swells, and to show the beautiful broads that, after all, their shit does stink. The high road? Come on. How is the high road funny? If you haven't got something good to say about anybody, sit next to me. Joan didn't ...

Sorry, I can't write now. I'm watching Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. The new season. Think Jerry Seinfeld meets Mel Brooks. Here's a preview from last season. The new season starts today. Ciao.      

In the wake of the international incident involving BEN AFFLECK and Argo, Canadians received another slap last night. Saturday Night Live inaugurated its Five Time Host Award, complete with smoking jacket, private club and pin and it was full of American comics. That's right, ladies and germs, there were no Canadian members . Well, there were two Canadians in the room-- Dan Ackroyd and Martin Short -- but they were, wait for it, The Help. Yes, indeedy, the former Blue Bro was tending bar while the former Ed Grimley served up snacks. And unlike the American comics, everytime they opened their mouths, they killed. Of course they did. So that's how you're going to play it, eh? Lorne "turncoat" Michaels. Making Canadians the stinky kids. Well let me tell you Americans something. We Canadians will not stand to be ignored. It's time we stood up and counted all the thousands of indentured comics who slave away in your comedy rooms. It's time ...

I like the HBO show Girls about a group of twenty-somethings exploring the complicated worlds of sex, money and work. I like it better than Sex in the City. I could never relate to Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte. I was never pretty or skinny or rich. I was Lena Dunham. Dunham has been hailed as the next Woody Allen and villified as a dirty little pudgy girl who spends too much time with her boobs hanging out. I wouldn't go quite so far as leveling up Dunham against the Woodster. But I do understand and appreciate what the fuss is all about. Dunham speaks to all the insecurities that girls -- and women -- have when they are first starting out in the world. Her stories are in the present tense, but they certainly aren't new. Every girl has a woulda, coulda, shoulda in her closet. Some of us old broads have done the walk of shame more than once. We're not the Red Hat Society, that's for sure. Just call our behavior Past Imperfect. So even though...

If you were going to take your life, would you blog about it first? That's what comic writer and producer Joe Bodolai did. In the realm of suicide notes, it's pretty good. Suicide in bullets. A template really. Here's what he said. http://qualityshows.wordpress.com/ He wrote his suicide blog as if he were creating a listing for Linked In , or putting down the pros and cons of dating a girl. Man, this guy was one mad MOFO. You may not have known Joe, but you will know him now. The blog has gone viral, now that Joe is worm food. Before he wrote it, he was a highly successful comedy writer, a man who wrote for Saturday Night Live and, as he notes, got punted by Lorne Michaels. He also got screwed, according to him, by Ivan Fecan, Sandra Faire and the entire Canadian funny television establishment. Booted out the door. The genius behind Canada's Comedy Channel. According to Joe. He got Geminis for writing for Canadian television. He re-imagined C...