Archive for January, 2010

The Very Wretched Sister Urselena

Saturday, January 30th, 2010
“The sixties were when hallucinogenic drugs were really, really big. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we had the type of shows we had then, like The Flying Nun.” ~ Ellen DeGeneres


St. Margaret's Madness

St. Margaret's Madness

St. Margaret’s Catholic School, Morristown, NJ – Second grade:  my foray into the Catholic school system.  Jesus, how I hated those wretched uniforms  – come on, who can look halfway decent in those ridiculous plaid accordion-pleated skirts and dowdy white buttoned-up blouses? And that stupid little crisscross tie thing in front of your neck – what the hell was that about?   Where was my favorite little black velvet dress now???

A St. Margaret’s education was OK I guess, but the little me did not leave that school without a couple  “incidents” which got me in a bit of trouble — expelled for a day actually, but more about that in a bit.  This post is all about the mean and utterly terrifying Sister Urselena.  YIKES — even typing out her name makes me tremble to this day!

(Italian Lesson: meschino = mean)

Sister Urselena was one of those nuns who would hit kids acting up in class, and God forbid if you were chewing

Sister Urselena wishes she looked this good

Sister Urselena wishes she looked this good

gum, because you’d end up wearing it on your nose and stand in front of the class for an hour with your chewed up gum on the end of your nose.  Yup, this was one frightening nun!  A nun who wouldn’t know a smile if one crawled up her habit and bit her on her ass.  Urselena never smiled at all — maybe it was because she had a mouth like a puppet —a real wooden puppet.  You know, one of those with the deep lines next to her lips, in fact, her mouth opened and closed like a Charlie McCarthy doll.

After seeing Urselena hit a fellow student with a ruler one day, I told my mom about it.  Mom advised me to leave the school if they ever tried to touch me.  So, the next day, I walked to school with my head held high, went straight up to Ursulena and told her that if she, or any nun ever touches me, my mother gave me permission to bolt outta there immediately.  Urselena promptly called my mother to verify this, and mom basically told her “damn straight, sister”! Unfortunately, this was not the last time Sister Ursulena called my mother at home — stay tuned for the “pencil incident” post.

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Cinnabon Trump

Sunday, January 17th, 2010

“And the drummer boy go pa-rum pa-pum pum – Give ya some some some of this Cinnabon” – Missy “Misdemeanor” Elliott

Just a follow up to my last “Yo Trump!” post.

This is how I see the ‘do  – need I say more?

(Italian Lesson: cappelli = hair)

See the similarities?

See the similarities?

The infamous Donald 'do


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Yo, Trump! You Owe My Dad Some Cash!

Saturday, January 16th, 2010
“When somebody challenges you, fight back.  Be brutal, be tough.” ~ Donald Trump
Cinnabon Trump

Cinnabon Trump

When my now Latin King brother (much more about him to come) was about 18, Dad, myself and my bro would visit and “donate” our small share of cash to the sparkly new casinos which were beginning to sprout up along Atlantic City’s boardwalk. 

mr. peanut man & me

Atlantic City used to be a wholesome family destination where kids could meet and greet Mr. Peanut, munch on popcorn, see creamy delicious chocolate fudge being made (and get a free sample), play games for prizes — like winning a “concussion” goldfish by throwing a ping-pong ball in their little glass home (so it could die of a brain hemorrhage just after you named it)– and even watch full-grown horses jump off a sky-high ladder into a small pool of blue water way down below.  As a kid, I was totally mesmerized by this feat– not today though.  Today, I’d be the one breaking in with a flashlight and a crowbar in the dead of night to free those poor animals.  Horses that probably had to be shot the next day due to a broken leg after this sh!tty trick.  I won’t get started on the sh!ttiness of it all, instead I’ll let my mind settle in, and be happy with my memories of the Steel Pier, the performing horses, and the delicious Italian meals of various pastas, veal and chicken parmesan dinners with my parents at Patrina’s – an authentic dining spot for guineas, old and young.  And, as my Aunt Patti would say  “they cooked up some good f*ckin’ sauce!” (this previous post explains a bit more about Aunt Patti

(Italian Lesson: gambling house = casinò,  casa da gioco)

Back to the beginning of my story:  One of my favorite memories was when my dad, my bro and I were at one of Trump’s casinos and we saw “The Donald” himself walking right in front of us and, without missing a beat, my brother ran straight up to him and yelled out YO, TRUMP! YOU OWE MY DAD MONEY!” Donald turned around and asked “Oh yeah? And why is that may I ask?”  My brother said “because my dad lost money up in here, Trump” .  A pretty friendly Donald with his multi-colored cinnabon swirl of a hair-do just smiled and kept on walking with his cronies.  I was cracking up, dad was shaking his head, most likely hoping secretly that Trump may just decide to pull out a Benjamin or two and  say, “here you go, man“.  Well, no such luck, but it makes for a cute little story.


One of my first celebrity crushes

One of my first celebrity crushes...Mr. Peanut


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A quick post – one of Mom’s gems

Thursday, January 7th, 2010

I just told Mom it’s good for your health to get fresh air daily.  She said “I get fresh air a few times a day – every time I go outside for a cigarette!”  Nice one, ma!

Yum, smoking is healthy!

Yum, smoking is healthy!

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