What these lovely locals don't realize, is that I've already started writing about my wretched life ih this dreadful town tarted up as a city, five cow patties away from the Canadian Border. Oh, at the moment I'm using real names, but those will change to protect the idiots. Liz Bernstein? Probably not, because she is part of the medical community, and anyone who calls themselves an acupuncturist, but leaves needles in your head should plainly be sued. Same for Dr. Paul Sarvasy, big fat lying "AIDS Specialist, who did a little bit of work in a clinic in Martinez, CA, but moved here claiming to be all these things he is not. Not to mention his idiot savant daugbter Hannah, who pulled a Doogie Hauser, and got into Harvard at 17, or his lovely wife, Shondra Shondik, Jewish artist extraordinaire who nobody has ever heard of. Speaking of Interfaith Community Clinic, Corrine Gimble-Levine, Nurse Practitioner, who coasts on her husband Henry Levine's rep as a psychiatrist, which does not a half way decent RNP make. That bitch, what with her apple core doll face....well, I have an oven chosen just for her. No, I am not a Nazi. But I could come damned close considering. Her hyphenated name is SOOOOO 1983 which galls me no end. And when I called her "Honey", just dripping with sarcasm, I thought she was going to explode!!! Now that would have been messy.
Speaking of messy. Evergreen AIDS Foundation, forever crying poor, is now moving into posher digs. What really should have happened is Ed Wilhoite should be sequestered away in the Crown Plaza building, where he can do whatever it is he does in the peace and quiet of his own office, far and away from clients and employees. This pig is not a people person, to say the least, which is pretty dicey for an Executive Director of an agency that serves PEOPLE. He's brought in a group of his cronies to volunteer, mostly snotty, Fairhaven types, and they are the worst. There's this one clown that works the front desk on Mondays, and he and his boyfriend are a sight to behold, driving around in a black BMW convertible, wearing diamonds from here to eternity. I had the pleasure of working there for about a month, and I can tell you this much, Ed sets the tone of that office, and it is mausoleum like. Actually, Ed would make a great undertaker. If you walk by his office door, you would swear someone roooooolled the stone from the tomb and stole the body. I mean, a cold wind blows out of that office.
Speaking of stealing bodies, Bryan Polinder. A couple of years back I posted a tribute to him, and boy, did the widow pitch a hissy, which started a whole chain of events on my blog. Not that I'm prod of my behaviour, but hers was reprehensible. Needless to say, I realized at that point that all friends linked to Lisa had to be dropped, because after an hour and a half talk on the phone (at 1AM) went from "let''s kiss and make up" to something truly ugly, as the drunken slag proceeded to tell me all about my faults, I resolved to drop everybody. That began my two year self imposed exile. Not because I was afraid to run into anyone, I was simply fed up with the town in general. Have you ever tried to find anyplace decent to eat? Well don't bother with this burg. Anything that's decent closes before you can say Jack Spratt, mainly because the locals love nothing more than a $6.99 entree (between 5-7) because this is fossil town, and don't you dare try to charge a penny more than ten bucks unless it's all you can eat. Very popular that. All you need to do is drop in during lunch hour at Olive Garden and watch that OBESE fuckers send back empty bowl after empty bowl only to be refilled with yet more pasta. I mean these are people who cannot slide into a booth without a shoe horn. And they are a plenty.
Actually, this is the fattest town I've ever lived in.
So why, Nancy Ramos, have I not been blogging or returning your gawd awful messages? Because I've been working on other things. AND you've turned into a nuisance I could care less about your pathetic life in Whittier. I moved away from that part of the world at 18!!! And all because of people like you.
At least my publisher is thrilled that I'm working again. I expect to be finished writing this town in a year.
Oh, and Dr. Bernstein, we killed you off after our last Fiesta. You are officially DEAD to the Curti. But you know damn well how it feels to be shunned by a community. The fact that you can't even go to The Temple should tell you plenty.