BLONDE LOGIC

Hellooooooooooooo Carol

My mother likes to act tough. She can talk a good game when the antagonist is nowhere to be seen but the minute there is a hint of confrontation, she’s off and running.  Avoidant behavior, it’s a family trait.

This weekend she called to tell me a woman named Barbara had moved into her building.

“You remember Barbara? She didn’t tip Kristen that time at Palm Beach Grill?”

My sister Kristen worked at Palm Beach Grill about 9 years maybe more.  If Barbara’s stingy behavior almost a decade ago is her character defining moment,  I’m guessing Barbara has finally trumped herself.

“I do remember the nontipping event but I can’t picture her”

“Well,  yeah you wouldn’t. She’s the epitome of depression. You know that labored walk and she never smiles.Never has. Never will. “

“That’s too bad” I said.

She bit back “Don’t feel bad for her. She’s not very nice to me. She moved into my building and she left a note under my door saying come by for a glass of wine and I never did. No big deal. I’m busy. I’m tired. I have my own wine. Whatever. So now whenever I see her she looks me right in the eye and almost squares off to me and says “Helloooooooooooooo Carol” then turns away. It’s so weird. It’s scary. I mean what the fuck is that all about? “Hellooooooooooooo Carol”  like Hello Newman from Seinfeld kind of shit. Fuck her. Don’t even bother saying hi”

Trying to be helpful, I suggested “You should say something”

“This weekend Kristen and I saw her EVERYWHERE we went and every time the same thing. One time she didn’t say hi. We were on the ferry and she looked like she was sleeping. Probably drunk or something”

“What did Kristen say about the whole thing?”

“She was creeped out! I mean who wants to see their mother being terrorized like that? She would see her and say “There she is! C’mon go this way” and steer me in the direction of safety. It’s ridiculous. Now I gotta avoid this woman?”

“Maybe you should get a pistol? Sit in the parking lot polishing it up.”

“I don’t have time to sit around participating in threatening behavior. I have a life”

“OK how about a water gun? When she squares off to you, squirt her in the face. What’s she gonna do?”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. I mean it’s not against the law. If she reported me she’d look like a big baby. You get squirt in the face with a water gun, you keep it to yourself, ya know?”

 

Who knows if she’ll follow through with the water gun retaliation. If I know my mother, she’ll dodge and sidestep Barbara when alone but when she has the support of a confederate, she’ll walk right towards her whispering to her side kick “Watch this”.

I asked my mother if I could share this story or if she thought the Big B might read it and lash out. She replied “I doubt she knows how to use the computer. I’ll print it out and tape it to her door. Can I get in trouble for that?”

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com                   

www.blondelogicblog.com

 

 

 

Worst Date Ever

I wrote this last week for my weekly column Beauty and the Beast http://thecomedypoint.com/category/beauty-and-the-beast/ thought I would share it here.

Worst Date Ever

I’m reluctant to classify any of the horrid dates I’ve had as the worst. I don’t want any of these buffoons to receive a superlative, even if it is has a negative connotation. It still says he was the best at something but for entertainments sake, here is ONE of the worst.

One of the Worst Dates I’ve Ever Had

Written by Kendra Cunningham, Still Single

A few years ago, right around this time of year, let’s say Fall 2007? I had just broke up with a guido pseudo bookie who shaved his entire body, hung his football jerseys on hangers, and lived in a 2 mile radius of his entire family. Why? I met him coming off the demise of a three year relationship with someone who quite literally took joy in being as hairy as possible, didn’t even have a closet in the industrial loft he turned into living quarters by putting up sheetrock walls (construction assistant- yours truly) and, I came to find out, sometimes pee’d in a bottle so he didn’t have to get out of bed in the middle of the night. I’m embarrassed to say, I learned this piece of information and still continued an emotional and sexual relationship with him. Why? The sex was good?  Good sex distorts reality. It’s a fact.

So I end up dating a meathead. It could be worse. We break up. Why? The sex was crap? No, I should say “the sex was crap period” it’s a statement of fact not a question. My friend Tiffany was happy to hear we were through. She didn’t like him because sometimes he wore cologne. We all have our things. She was more than happy to set me up with someone. The story she spun was he was a filmmaker, had a good sense of humor, and was looking to start dating after a long distance entanglement with a crazy lady from the Midwest.

She puts us in touch and we agree to meet at some sexy bar in the East Village. I show up, I find him, I sit down, I get a drink and the monologue begins. First he tells my breasts all about how he’s a vegetarian. I’ll be honest, when guys pay a lot of attention to my tits I don’t feel objectified, I get jealous. I do. I get jealous of my own mammary glands because they’re getting all the attention. I feel left out.  So I’m sitting there feeling like my date isn’t paying enough attention to me when I start to realize he’s been talking for a really long time. I interject “so Tiffany tells me you’re a filmmaker” .  This time he looks me in the eye, every couple of seconds and tells me about his experiences with Oliver Stone. It starts to become apparent he is not going to ask any questions about me. I order a hamburger. Take that ya vegan fuckwad.  Apparently his crazy ex girlfriend loves hamburgers too, go figure. Two people who like hamburgers? What are the odds? 

He starts in on his ex and how she only wanted him for his money. I start to suspect he has been drinking all day. So now I know he knows Oliver Stone ( braggart), he’s a vegan or vegetarian or some sort of limited menu choice eater ( yawn) and he fancies himself a rich man (whoopee ding dong).  I offered him the last bite of my burger, just to be an asshole. It crossed my mind to say “ you know I came here tonight hoping for a one night stand but your personality cock blocked you. Feel free to monologue that to Oliver Stone while eating your gold dusted edamame, you self engrossed poser”  but we have mutual friends . That’s the thing about getting involved with somebody who has mutual friends, you gotta play nice. It sucks!  He asked me if I wanted to go back to his place and smoke pot.  I told him I shouldn’t . I left him on the corner with a “I get really horny when I’m stoned” .

He texted me a few days later and asked me to go to some event.

I wrote back “Too tired, spent the night with an NYU linebacker and a bong. Gotta get some sleep.”

Dating sucks.

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com                   

www.blondelogicblog.com

If I run, you run

 

 

This weekend I went back to Boston to watch lonelygirl48 get screened at the Boston Film Festival. The festival screened 18 shorts out of 800 submissions. There’s no joke there. Just bragging.

I did get to spend time with my mother. Here’s where it gets funny.

At home people drive everywhere. I always ride shotgun with Momma Cunningham and it is worth the price of admission. My mother is a petite lady and she is always dressed to a level of sophistication unrequired by the errands on hand, but put her behind the wheel and she morphs into a stage mom for Bas Rutten. She wants to be IN the fight but all she can do is yell threatening demands and disappointed commentaries.

            “C’mon get outta there! Whattaya thinking? Oh sorry that’s right, You’re not! Yeah you- you’re not thinking”

            “Seriously? That’s your move fucker? The old cut me off and slow down? Are you shittin me?”

            “You see this guy? Oh oh oh it’s a girl. Good luck to you honey. Your hairs brassy!......... You know what? I actually feel bad for that girl. She’s got a face only a mother could love. Shit, I think that was the exit. Hold on!”

She told me she was recently involved in some serious road rage where she and another woman  had a Mexican stand off at an intersection complete with giving each other the finger and horn blowing. When the other woman actually got out of her car, my mother put the pedal to the metal and beat it. You can take the kid out of Dorchester, but you can’t take the Dorchester out of the kid.

We attempted to bargain shop  but my mother thought the store smelled funny and she “couldn’t take it anymore” so we had to leave without a purchase. In the parking lot she became convinced a sea gull was circling around in order to find the perfect moment to attack her. She didn’t share this, she simply began running to the car.

When I got to the car I asked “ What the hell was that all about?”

She said “That sea gull wanted my blonde hair to make a fancy nest with”

“Oh yeah? So you leave me in the dust? I have blonde hair too”

“Well, when the person you’re with starts running, you should run too. I mean c’mon that’s like, common knowledge”

Later that night, I was lounging gracefully as I like to do when my mother said out of the blue “Let me give you some sleeping pills”

It was 8 O’clock.

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

wwww.blondelogicblog.com

 

Is that my underwear?

 

I live with my chronologically adult sister. We are like the female Frasier’s without the money and intelligent conversations. We’re probably more like the female version of Beavis and Butthead.

The other day I went to the bathroom in my underwear. Not literally, what I meant was I walked through my apartment to the bathroom while wearing a t shirt and underwear. Just as I was closing the bathroom door I heard “Are those my underwear?”.

I responded honestly, “I don’t think so”.

When I exited the latrine, she approached me and began to inspect the panties in question. “Yeah, those look like mine. Where did you get them?”.

I defensively claimed ‘I’ve had these for years”.

She jumped on it “For YEARS? You’ve had THAT pair of underwear for years? So you wear what?  Vintage underwear?”.

If I was the type of person who dated my underwear with its purchase date, I could have proved my case right there on the spot. But I’m not.

I wasn’t sure which accusation I liked better the one that insinuated I had secretly entered her room, rifled through her panty drawer, and carefully chosen a ratty old pair of underwear to steal or the secondary implication, I don’t buy fresh underwear as frequently as the average folk. In both instances I am portrayed as a tattered underwear lover, which I do not self identify as.

I went back to bed imagining how I would take pictures of all the pretty, modern day panties,  I owned and text them to her individually during the day. I fell back asleep and had a dream that a sexy Japanese woman followed me into a public bathroom and after I had chosen my stall and purposefully locked the door, she popped her head over the door with a Jew fro wig on and an oversized red velvet bell hop jacket with squared shoulders. As I tried to process what the hell was happening she put a gun to the tip of my nose. I woke up confused and more distrustful of sexy Japanese women than I could have ever imagined. I completely forgot about the panty photo shoot.

Although I still think it’s a funny idea.

And the panty purchase date thing.

I’m onto something there!

Cha Ching!

 

 

 

 

 

 Feel free to subscribe to Blonde Logic by putting your email address in the SUBSCRIBE box in the upper right hand corner- just do it!

And if you want to hear about all things Kendra, you can get on my monthly newsletter here:

https://madmimi.com/signups/join/27847

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

wwww.blondelogicblog.com

 

 

 

 

 

Smokin da Weed

I smoke marijuana on occasion. Infrequently. So infrequently that I often call it marijuana. My sister makes fun of me, throwing on an English accent while mocking me “Oh did you smoke the marijuana? Well now that you’ve indulged in your mind altering substance perhaps you’ll join me for some scones and jam?”.

The other night a friend convinced me if I smoked pot before bed I wouldn’t have any issues with insomnia. So I tried it. I ended up spending just under two hours talking to the mirror. It started with an impromptu scenario involving telling someone off. And by someone I mean any guy I was ever involved with who turned out to be an imbecile. Take your pick.

It’s never done on one take. I always end up reconsidering my approach to expressing my anger. I typically start off full throttle with an attitude laden “ Oh really? Please! Don’t waste my &^%$%^& time” complete with a hair toss. The next take is the subtle approach. I have to apply lipstick for this one. It requires less spoken word and more body language. I even smoke a cigarette. The goal is to mislead them into thinking you’re not mad anymore by participating in calm conversation and then hitting them with a one liner that confuses and frightens them. It can take a while to get a really good one liner to end it but it’s totally worth it.

I went on to act out a scenario where I was wrongfully accused of a crime. I put my hair up for that and added some jewelry and a cardigan to my get up.  I was ultimately cleared of all charges and my lawyer wished all his clients were so smart, likable, and articulate.  I had a flirtatious exchange with him before I ended that scenario.

A little over an hour had passed and I found myself looking in the mirror with a full face of poorly applied dramatic make up, a sequin wrap tossed around my shoulders, and half a joint on my nightstand. I had just been given an undefined award that made me feel good about myself and required an acceptance speech. I thanked a handful of people and in closing, held up my imaginary award in my right hand and shook it victoriously and said:

“to every guy who ever blew me off or stopped returning my calls or blatantly refused my advances , I just want to say………………. Call me! I’m still available. We can make it work. I’m an award winner now. I’m different. Come over. Let’s talk it out. Tonight!” then Benecio Del Toro dragged me off stage.

I put a towel over the mirror to call it a night.

My friend was right. Smoking weed before bed does cure insomnia. By the time I completed by emotional storylines, washed the make up off my face, I fell fast asleep half way through my bowl of pasta.

 

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

wwww.blondelogicblog.com

Next time, sex shop!

 

"Delivery for Kendra"

 

I recently performed in the Montreal Comedy Festival. There are a lot of sex shops in Montreal. I had no idea it was such a horny city. I wish I had. I certainly would have packed differently.

My mother drove up with a friend to watch my  shows. When she was leaving to head back to Boston she said “Next time I come to Montreal I want to check out those sex shops”

I said “Why didn’t you go while you were here?”

“I didn’t have enough time” she said.

How much time do you need in a sex shop, really? I’ve never been in a sex shop for more than 15 minutes. I don’t feel comfortable being around sex toys and strangers at the same time. Especially a room full of puzzling erotic wontons and overzealous porno buffs.  15 minutes or as soon as someone speaks. Whichever comes first. Once I hear “ Now where would I find……..”   exit stage left.  I’m out.

My mother says “ See ! You would have been rushing me!”

I guess the last thing you want to hear in a sex shop is “C’mon Maaa. Let’s go. I’m hungry. You have  one like that at home. Mum, c’mon, it’s hot in here”.

I never saw a sex toy in real life until I received  a half a dozen of them for my 30^th birthday as gag gifts. I was like “ Ha funny. Now how do I use this thing?” Then I disappeared for two weeks.

There’s no replacement for sex. Unfortunately. I’ve been gorging myself for over a month now and I blame it on sexual frustration.  Unintented celibacy makes me ravenous. I have consumed over 5 pounds of cold cuts this month. Ask my butcher. The last time I was there, I walked through the door and he said “ I don’t have any bologna or mortadella today”.  The guys got deli meat profiling skills.                         

 I said  “Ok no problem. I’ll find something else, I’m sure ”  

 Underlying message:    I’m not leaving yet  Mr.- I’d –rather- sell -a –rump- roast- than –slice- two- pounds- of –a- bologna –variation- for- anybody –even-if you -do -wear -cleavage -shirts.

“Mm what’s this hot capicola all about?”

 “It’s a lot like the spicy salami you got last week”

Ahh. So the cleavage shirts do work. You remember my week old order. I sucked in my belly as it occurred to me that being a butcher is a pretty good job. One where I could spontaneously stop by to check on my man if I felt the need.

“We did get an imported Goose Liverwurst  in”

“Perfect. I haven’t had liverwurst in a while”

We both knew that was a lie.

Scarfing down home made spreads can make you feel something physically but it does nothing for lack of companionship. The other day I was preparing my first sandwich of the day, listening to old school funk. As I deliberated “ Should I add spicy salami to my liverwurst sandwich or roll it up with cheese as a side dish?” a sexy black guy voice comes through the speakers and croons “ Are you lonely?”

And I responded. It doesn’t matter what I said because the fact that I responded says it all.

Hipnotic went on to ask me over 25 times if I was lonely. He also asked if I needed someone to hold on to and if I wanted his mind, body and soul. He claimed he had been scoping me from a distance. Kinda cool.  

I said things like “C’mon stop it! Let me finish my sandwich first” And “Hipnotic! You don’t mean that”.  After a while it was clear he wasn’t listening to anything I said.  Typical dude.

It was my biggest laugh of the day. Forcing a flirtatious exchange on my iPod with a mouthful of perfectly sliced imported Liverwurst. That butcher really is talented.

It’s no surprise Hipnotic hails from Canada. See what those sex shops will do to ya?

Are You Lonely? was released in 1983. It’s still a sexual taunt 28 years later.

Check it out

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEbE9SpTog0

 

This guy owns my butcher shop - Los Paisanos on Smith Street in Brooklyn

Tony Calbretta - one of the funniest guys around

Thanks for listening!

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

www.blondelogicblog.com

 

 

 

 

 

Suspiciously Single

My family pedigree includes inborn generalized (and personalized) suspicion. My mother can take the most mundane information and surmise misdirection. If I don’t return her calls in the time frame she sees suitable, I’ll get one of these:

Me:“Sorry I never got back to you last night, I went to bed early”

Her:“Are you sick?’

Me: “No, I’m fine. I just wanted to go to bed early.”

Her:“Oh. Have you been having trouble sleeping?”

Me:“Not at all”

Her “Well, if something is bothering you, you can talk to me about it.”

Me:“Nothing’s bothering me, I wanted to be lazy”

Her:“Is it that you never got married?”

Me:“Nooooo, there is no “IT”. I just didn’t feel like talking on the phone, OK, Serpico?”

Her:“Oh… so you DIDN’T go to bed early?”

Me: “Mom, c’mon”

Her: “What is this Sir Picko? I don’t think I like that. “

You can’t win. No matter what you say, it will not be taken at face value.

Carol Cunningham: Cross Examiner Extraordinaire

I’ve definitely inherited this leery makeup. Especially with men. I don’t trust them. Particularly the ones who have sex with me. The minute a guy has sex with me he becomes the prime suspect in an undefined investigation pioneered by moi’.  I should really just be direct and administer a post coital statement:

“You are officially under investigation. I am about to make it my mission to collect enough evidence to prove that you are not only a liar and a cheat but an all around son of a bitch.  I’m on the case. Now you may be a nice guy, maybe, but I’ll comprise a case that’ll make your mother question your character. Every conversation will be an interrogation whether it feels like one or not.  Consider yourself under surveillance and act accordingly. This in no way means I don’t want to continue seeing you but it does mean I’ve got my eye on you, buddy,  and, make no mistake, this is gonna be a battle every step of the way. C’mere and cuddle with me. C’mere you! You’re so cute. Look at you.”

See how I play good cop, bad cop?

You gotta keep ‘em guessing.

One day it’s a bed a roses the next day it’s a shakedown.

 

My special boyfriend chair:

T

 My crazy ex!

If you see this guy- let me know

 

Thanks for listening!

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

www.blondelogicblog.com

Jimmy: The Elevator Guy

I’ve received half a dozen voicemails for someone named Jimmy this week. I don’t know Jimmy but I do know Gary needs him for an elevator job that involves a certain elevator model that only Jimmy knows inside and out. At first it was exciting. I don’t get a ton of voicemails, to see two new voicemails from an unfamiliar number.. this was something.

Gary was quick and direct in the first message “ Jimmy, its Gary I got one of those elevators on the fritz. Give me a call will ya buddy?” . The second one sounded like Gary’s hangover was kicking in “Jimbo, I need you to call me. Today. Seriously don’t be a jerkoff. It’s Gary”.  Two hours later I saw Gary rang my phone, I already recognized his number. This time he left the office number so I called him back. A lady answered the phone and said something like “LI Elevators”. I asked for Gary. She asked “who’s callin?”

“I’m a friend of Jimmy’s” I said without hesitation.

She put me on hold for what I felt was an unreasonable amount of time, I’m pretty sure Jimmy wouldn’t have liked it either. I hung up.

The next day I was at the gym when I saw Gary calling my phone, I sent him to voicemail. I didn’t want to help Gary anymore.

Gary left two messages describing the elevator situation and implied Jimmy had a history of irresponsible behavior. I had had enough. I called Gary one more time.

“Something Something Elevators”

“Yeah is Gary there?”

“Who’s calling?”

“Tell him it’s Jimmy”

I get transferred to another lady.

“Something Something Elevator”

“I’m trying to reach Gary”

“Who’s calling?”

“it’s a friend of Jimmy’s”

“Gary’s not here, can  I take a message?”

“Yeah can you tell him he has the wrong phone number for Jimmy. He keeps leaving him voicemails on my number”

“Do you have a new number for him? We have a job for him”

“I know you have a job for him but I don’t even know Jimmy. I’m just trying to get out of the loop.”

“I thought you said you were a friend of Jimmy’s”

“I just said that to try to get Gary on the phone”

“Okeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy” she says like the only thing she is gonna remember about this conversation is I said I was Jimmy’s friend even though I wasn’t.

“Will you give Gary the message?”

“Wait, here’s Gary, you want to talk to him?”

“Not really. Can’t you just tell him what’s going on?”

The lady starts laughing.

I hang up.

I immediately got embarrassed that I hung up and thought about calling back and saying we got disconnected but I didn’t.  Instead I sat around and wondered if I should have handled it differently.

There’s a part of me that thinks it was an elaborate prank. I’m anticipating a voicemail tomorrow:

“Hey this is Jimmy, just calling in for messages”

I kinda hope so.

I have a feeling Jimmy is my type.

 

 

 

Thanks for listening!

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

Beer Dork

 

Beer geeks take themselves too seriously. How can you act snooty talking about something that appears on a Things We Need to Open Our Bowling Alley list?  Don’t get me wrong,  I love beer. I do. All kinds of beer. But I’m not interested in participating in a debate about whether the hint of grapefruit is stronger than coriander. Or if the malt outweighs the hops.  Some of these beer geeks want a complete ingredients vs. brewing process analysis before handing over their measly six bucks. Who gives a crap? If it tastes good, drink it. Let’s be honest here, as much as I like the taste of beer, I drink it to get drunk. If beer didn’t get me drunk, I wouldn’t keep drinking it for the TASTE, I’d be drinking something else. Like Jagermeister.

Beer geeks are another microcosm of drinkers who want to one up the bartender. With flare. They are the bad boys of the theater department. Ordering a beer is high stakes, overly revealing, and verbose.  Getting a one beer order out of these guys turns into a one act play, complete with conflict, exposition, and a dramatic monologue.

INTERIOR BAR – BROOKLYN,NY

Beer Geek: “Hi wow, great beer list. I just started brewing at home. Reallllly into beer and the process, you know what the ingredients are and all that.  Now maybe you can recommend something, I want a beer that is darker in color but light in taste.”

Bartender: “Hmm. Ahh let’s see”

Beer Geek: “Something that wakes me up and puts me to bed at the same time. Something sweet but sour, light but heavy, a complete enigma of a beer. Something that no man has yet to create. Do you have that here?”

Bartender: “Well, I could give you a taste of something”

Beer Geek: “But will it quench my desire to be the most interesting beer drinker around? Will it make me forget how easily I was overlooked and unnoticed by all the Fraternities in college when I really needed to be accepted? Will it give me the intellectual and ethically fuelled  halo I crave and by golly, deserve? Will it, my fair lady?”

Bartender: “Well, no, probably not..”

Beer Geek: “No? No? Nooooooooooo? Oh I knew it. I just knew it. What I want does not exist. It is not to be found here in this beer selling place, nor is it to be found near or afar. Pardon me as my eyes tear up and my voice cracks but when a man is faced with his truth, he cannot be accountable for his visible emotional reaction. Look away! Look away so as to not bear witness. ”

 

You may have noticed there is no beer order placed in that exchange. I was unwittingly cast as the supporting character and didn’t even make a buck.

My other thing with beer geeks, not good flirters. Flirting at work is one of the biggest fringe benefits of bartending. Take that away and all we are left with is an open bar. Open bar sans flirting = heady buzztime. Nobody wants to get buzzed and ruminate. Work with us here.

Place a beer order in 3 minutes or less and compliment the bartender’s choice in clothing.

A random compliment has the power to ignite a crush.

You can practice on me.

 

 

Thanks for listening!

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com

www.blondelogicblog.com

Hammer Time

 

My mother is becoming a combative conversationalist. When she gets you on the phone she comes right at you with one of two approaches,  either aggressively following up on loose ends from conversations from the past, or urgently filling you in on what is happening  in her direct line of vision.  So you either get the litany of follow ups:

ME:  “ Hi Mom”

HER:”What happened at the post office? Did they reimburse you for the postage? They better have. It’s ridiculous for you to pay twenty something dollars for me to get my package AFTER Mother’s Day. I mean c’mon. What were they doing with it?”

ME: “They reimbursed me”

HER:”Well, that was the right thing to do. Don’t you think? You didn’t even get the service you paid for”

ME:”Yeah. Its all taken care of. What are you up to?”

HER:”Same old shit. Did you put your winter clothes away? You said you were gonna do that. It’ll give you a lot of room once you do that ya know what I’m saying? You have so many coats. Do you wear all those coats?”

Or the up to the minute play by play:

ME:”Hi Mom”

HER:”Oh for Christs Sake, I’m at Macys looking for sandals. You should see the sandals I have on. How can someone make a stupid looking shoe and nobody in the factory says “Hey that looks stupid”?.  I had to return that other pair because I have hammertoe.  I told you that right? My toes all messed up”

ME:”No, you didn’t. Is that painful?”

HER:”Not really but its ugly as sin. But yeah, it hurts when shoes rub up against it so I need to get special shoes. This lady sitting next to me had nice feet and she bought big loafer things, I told her she should get sandals but she just went on and bought those manlike loafers. I don’t get people. She was wearing purple and yellow. It actually looked nice on her.”

ME:” Ok call me when you’re done”

HER:”You should get your feet checked. Hammer toes are hereditary”

 

This is an actual text from Mrs. C:

“Didn’t want to tell you when at work. I got to work early and Peter is early also. He says is that chocolate on your sandal. OMG. It was a big hunk of crap. It wAs as big as a Ping Pong ball don’t have a clue.  If I zepped in dog doo I would have known. Hope you are bust tonight XO”

I responded “ maybe your hammer toe shit on your shoe. They’re known to do that you know. “

 

 

 

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwzN4633mpI

 

Thanks for listening!

Kisses-

Kendra

Kendra is a stand up comic living in Brooklyn where she owns a super comfortable bed. She spends most of her time wondering where the hell her sugar daddy is and hoping he didn’t settle.

www.kendracunningham.com