AND THEY SAID SHE DIDN'T HAVE A TALENT ...

"YOU try balancing a huge doobie from YOUR mouth."
LOL is right.  That takes mad skills.

Needless to say, Kim Kardashian's booty-bearing cover pose for PAPER magazine is already fodder for millions ... including moi. Oh, sweet silly Kim. Who does this? We know you're a MILF, but where will it end? (No pun intended.) Call me crazy, but you truly are bored with life, eh?

Okay, enough psychoanalysizin'. No one cares. Let's get back to the fodder. Along with horses, apes, peaches, and the lengthy list of bodacious butt memes spawned, Homer Simpson joined the party as well, but who wore it better?

My money's on me (see above), but that's just, um, me. I mean, really Homer? Purple sequins? They're so last season. Do you NOT read Vogue? Do you NOT subscribe to Haute Look? Jeez. Even Andre Leon Talley's shaking his head in shame. Will someone please tell the gottdamn artists that purple sequins are a faux pas before Lagerfeld gets wind of it?

Now that that's out of my system, let's get back to Kim. Yes, she's beautiful, but do self-respecting mothers need to bare all to prove they've still got it? Hmmmm, the jury's out. (I'm thinking a resounding "HELL NO.")

Rather than "Break The Internet," maybe Kim should've gone with "Vape The Internet." That's a party most everyone would've rooted for ... which brings this sweet little post full circle back to me.

Thank you, Kim Kardashian, for such an easy post. Seriously. Easy. (Maybe not as easy as you, but a no-brainer nonetheless.) Here goes:

HIGH-KU OF THE DAY!™

I like big buds and

I can not lie, you other

Vapers can’t deny.

No further comment. xo

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TGIF ... TIME TO PAR-TAY IN VEGAS!

TGIF, Love Weed Muffins!

Ready to take a toke in Sin City at tomorrow's Hempfest? Head out early for a day of music, comedians, vendors and, obviously, all things cannabis. Quite the party.

Though I won't be able to join you (this time), here's a little teaser to hold you over. And just think, this month's Kush Cup in San Bernardino, California, is RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER. (October 17-19). Put that in your pipes and smoke it.

HIGH-KU OF THE DAY!™

Vegas strip’s hoppin'

Just in time for Shatterday

Wanna skirp some derg?

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READY FOR VEGAS HEMPFEST???

STOP THE HEMP PRESSES! Sin City turns Stoner Heaven as Las Vegas Hempfest opens its doors this Saturday, October 4. Wait, wasn't it just Memorial Day? Time flies when you're having a life. (Unless you've been in a complete stupor for four months.) With music, comedians, speakers, vendors, and a whole lotta sweet leaf, the event promises to "light up the town" in more ways than one. Are YOU ready to start chonging the bong?

Why's a Geishanista-with-the-Mostest promoting 420-filled fun? Well, little love [weed] muffins ... it will all become clear -- very, very soon. You'll see. I promise. (And you WON'T be disappointed.) Until then, like Confucius, let me impart this tidbit of stoner wisdom. It's the least I can do. And if you're checking out Hempfest, take a toke for me! Hugs, I mean NUGS!

HIGH-KU OF THE DAY!™

Chonging the big bong

Puff, puff pass, Vegas Hempfest

Rocky Mountain highs.

PS: And yes, I know Vegas is nowhere near the Rocky Mountains. Duh ... it's called creative license darlings. You so silly.

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IF WOMEN CATCALLED MEN ...

I know it's Music Monday and National Coffee Day, but I couldn't resist. I think most ladies will agree with me (and this video). Finally, a true depiction.

And now that the proverbial shoe's on the OTHER foot ... I CAN'T. STOP. LAUGHING. Plus I'm sure, based on experience, that this is being way too kind. But I digress. See how it feels, muchachos. Roll around in the down 'n' dirty of it all. Muy caliente, si? Mira, mira, what you say now, papi ... eh?

CAN WE TALK?

Comedy has lost another of its greats -- the incomparable Joan Rivers.

Aside from the shock of her passing, my heart is truly broken as I remember growing up watching Joan on "The Tonight Show" with Johnny Carson. Now I never really thought Johnny was funny (his cornball humor seemed inane to me, even as a child), but Joan was simply BRILLIANT.

This tiny-but-tough New Yorker wasn't afraid to speak her mind during an era when women would rather play Betty Crocker than Caesars Palace, which was just unheard of. I was only a young kid from the Bronx, but Joan's hilarious, acid-tongued wit somehow fascinated me. Her delivery? Sublime. How great was it that she built a career out of making people laugh?

There's no question that Lucille Ball made everyone fall in love with female comediennes (who didn't love Lucy?), yet Joan was truly unique. She was a wild card. She was one-of-a-kind. She brought audiences to tears (including herself and Johnny) by saying what no other woman dared ... and it was refreshing. Liberating. Exhilarating. Joan was just what we needed. 

Dishing about Edgar, her sex life, family -- no one or nothing was sacred. Even herself. Joan's self-deprecating sense of humor was beyond anything we'd ever heard. Brazen, brash, and without apology. Best part was, she showed us how to laugh at OURSELVES. Joan clearly harnessed her own brand of comedic power and controlled rooms with only her mouth. Talk about fabulous. I was hooked.

She made up her own rules and broke'em just as fast. Forging a path in what was once an exclusively patriarchal industry, Joan claimed "The Tonight Show" changed her life and later appeared regularly as Johnny's guest host.

After Fox offered Joan her own competing late-night talk show in 1986, her "mentor" refused to speak to her again. Aside from (IMO) his inability to be funny, now "Carnac the Magnificent" was scared of a woman? Where's the equality? What year was this? Someone clearly needed to check his misogynous shorts at the door and leave those caveman days behind.

Did any of that phase Joan? Hell no. She prevailed as the first woman to host her own late night talk show ... the rest is history. And that, my friends, is priceless because it illustrates the epitome of believing in yourself. Imagine the concept of absolutely nothing standing in a woman's way? It wasn't easy (or common) during her early career, but Joan not only imagined it, she made it happen.

It's not hard to see how Joan Alexandra Molinksy lured me to the "dark side" at an early age (not that I had any clue what that meant or how it would actually affect my life). She flaunted a brass pair without caring about upsetting network brass. Screw status quo and the powers that be -- her balls were bigger than any man's. I couldn't help but wonder if mine would ever grow that large? (Jury's still out.)

Tolerating Johnny's nonsense wasn't easy, but if I caught Joan "in the act" it was all worth it. She lit up the room, was funny as hell, and had a BLAST doing it. She said what people thought and that's what made her successful. "We all need to get over it and move on."  Indeed. Little did I know that Joan was blazing trails that would actually impact my life.

Joan, thank you for showing me the importance of laughter and a lifetime of inspiration. YOU are what makes a legend most ... and will definitely be missed but never forgotten. xoxo

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KNOCK, KNOCK THIS

Hola love muffins ... como estas?! Since today's National Tell a Joke Day, I'm gonna share something I find funny. I don't really care if you agree 'cause it's my story, damn it. FYI, the very first comedy album I ever purchased was Steve Martin's "Let's Get Small." I loved it. One of his classic lines is forever ingrained in my mind -- "People ask me, 'Steve, how can you BE so fuckin' funny?'" I'll never forget his delivery (perfection) and, from that moment on, I was hooked on making people laugh. It's my crack.

Back in the day, I used to run wild through the desolate, late-night streets of NYC with my punk rock girl pack for shits 'n' giggles (sporting a black mohawk, no less). We'd land -- "take over" may actually be a more apt description -- at the Mudd Club, Danceteria, Irving Plaza, CBGB's, Peppermint Lounge, the Tunnel, Limelight, and places I don't even remember for some hella hardcore fun. Like cockroaches in the Bronx, we were everywhere.

Once settled in with a drink or two, I'd start walking up to random people and make up morbid jokes - ON THE SPOT. Oh yeah. I, for one, thought it was hilarious. (Not to mention my gal pals who nearly peed their pants. Again, loved it.) Best part of the whole deal was the sick and confused looks I received from my victims. Yup, I thought it was brilliant. (That's youth for you.)

Years later, while being coerced into performing at an open mic night somewhere in North Bergen, New Jersey (that's a whole other story), this comedy club producer informed me that one of the twisted jokes I mentioned creating during this heyday-of-sorts went on to become one of the most popular party circuit jokes for at least a decade. Imagine that. My claim to fame and I didn't even know it. (Kinda like how I actually won $5K in one of Snapple's bottle cap contests and threw it away BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW. I kid you not. Next time they tell me I "didn't" win car payments for a year, I'll start counting my Benjamins. Um, Snapple, are y'a listenin'?)

Actually, this joke is STILL my all-time fave. (I remember exactly what club I was in and the faces of the people I went up to. BTW, they weren't laughing.)  And, YES, I wrote it from my little head. © 1980-somethin'. So here goes ...

Q: Why did the monkey fall out of the tree?
A: Because it was DEAD.

Poor little bastard. 

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HIGH-KU, NEW TUNES & MOI

I missed you. (And you and you and you, too.) Really, I did. Aside from working on my upcoming Lady Geisha books that shall remain nameless (for now, it's a surprise), I've been in the final throes (fingers crossed) of getting three new songs out the door as well as my GEISHA-MANIA! Sing-Along Video. Between a few flaky rappers and even flakier scheduling that unexpectedly set things back, let's just say one could compare it to being in labor for close to a year -- only giving birth to an actual human is a helluva lot easier. Been there, done that, I kid you not.

In addition to collaborating with L.A.-based hip-hop artists for the above-mentioned ditties, I've been writing other original songs (and parodies) to complete my very first comedy rap EP, kinda like Weird Al on estrogen. Forget that newfangled "trip-hop" -- I created my own unique genre and deemed it "COM-HOP." Yup, I can deem. So, with some love from the universe and lots of finger-crossing from YOU (and me too), I'll be sharing lots more news in the upcoming month. Please, for the love of all things sacred, KEEP Y'ER FINGERS CROSSED. Forever. And just for me.

Quite frankly, so much has happened that it's hard to keep it straight but, being that today would have been the 103rd birthday of comedy legend Lucille Ball, I decided to share something special. Recently I've taken to writing haiku -- and creating one-of-a-kind collages -- with a silly stoner twist.

Why would a (quirky) middle-aged underdog (with killer biceps) start writing about wacky weed? (Um, have you watched GEISHA-MANIA??? Just kidding. Or am I? I'll never tell.) IMO, it's even sillier that, in 2014, lawmakers are still ensconced in a Prohibition-era mindset over marijuana -- somehow they're conveniently forgetting the amount of people killed by drunk drivers each year. How many research studies do those ignorant bastards need to finally believe cannabis helps cure cancer patients? (Stay tuned for Ricki Lake's upcoming documentary, "Weed the People" to find out.)

If there's any doubt as to some of the medicinal benefits (especially for anyone suffering anorexia, anxiety, arthritis, chronic pain, depression, fibromyalgia, insomnia, migraines, MS, nausea, the list goes on and on), might I suggest PUFF, PUFF, PASS. Shotgun, perhaps? A big FAT DAB'll do y'a ... and I ain't talkin' hair gel.

Live and let live is how most evolved people think. While you're waiting for the rest of the world to catch up, enjoy this selection from my HIGH-KU OF THE DAY™ ... more on Tumblr and Twitter!

Giggle bush me up

Puff the magic dragon sings

Legalize sweet leaf.

Wacky tabacky

Geisha in the sky with diamonds (oops, that’s 8)

Dance, little toe, dance.

Doobie doobie do

Stoned not stupid, puff, puff pass

Read between blurred lines.

Love and peace and herb

Bush leaves me straight-trippin’ boo

Combustible fun.

Snizzle this wizzle

Even Bill Clinton got high

Who’s illegal now?

Stoners be twaxin’

Hittin’ more trees than Tarzan
Bongzilla lives on.

Legalize they cry

Munchies munchies everywhere

Not a bong to chong.

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IN HONOR OF SEXY DONUTS EVERYWHERE

Hola Love Muffins! Did y'a miss me??! I've been sequestered away making new music (get ready for GEISHANISTA GO-GO!), but being that today's such an auspicious holiday, I had to chime in. Sorta.

It's National Donut Day ... ummm, "yay"? While the rest of the world salivates over heaping helpings of colorful Kentucky-fried dough (sorry, not a fan), I couldn't resist Googling "sexy donuts." One might surmise that the term "sexy donuts" is an oxymoron, but you're in for a fabulously freaky treat -- minus millions of empty calories. I know "sexy [INSERT RANDOM ITEM HERE]" is a running theme with me (see Sexy Strawberries), but get over it. Please. A girl can never have TOO MUCH FUN. And hot damn, I have a reputation to maintain.

Ours is a seriously sordid world and, keeping that in mind, it's only fair I get some sick twisted pleasure out of providing commentary on the random, albeit hilarious, pics that popped up. Consider it my "raison d'être." (You don't think I'd be joking about diamonds and daddies, do you? Well, do you? Exactly.)

Without further ado, we're off to see the blizzard of insanity. (A baker's dozen, no less.) Remember, these are supposed to be SEXY. Try not to guffaw. Dulce de leche and jelly and glazed -- OH MY!

WTF? No, seriously, WTF? Not a sexy donut in sight.

Unless you count those forehead implants. Add spikey

sprinkles and they're fresh out of the oven. Now that's hot.

If orange is the new black, then

Cheetos are the new donuts.

Ring-around-the-Long-John, anyone?

Hell, I'd be pissed too if some stupid dying douche

ate my last tequila ganache-filled confection.

Wait, I'm confoozled. Which is the donut ... and do we even wanna

know what's she filled with? Is cannibalism sexy? You decide. 

But first, run before she eats the entire gottdamned Internet.

From one extreme to ... SO many ways to go with 

this one (especially since she's squatting), but let's keep it 

semi SFW. Here she's not CFDA-naked OR a donut, but 

kudos to Ri-Ri and her f'g awesome SEO peeps once again. 

Guess where she's hiding the creme-filled?

Not sure 'bout you, but this screams DONUT to me. 

Technically, Dennis Leary is NOT a sexy donut.

That's just my opinion.

Neither is Robert Downey Jr., but diet schmiet. 

Who wouldn't take a bite outta that? Yum. (Call me.)

At first, I thought fugly, mismatched earrings ... BUT NO!!! 

They're Britney Spears-inspired sexy donuts. No sh*t.

Another "Where's Waldo?" conundrum. But isn't it fun in a

Chucky-chops-up-Rudolf-and-hides'im-in-your-stocking kinda way?

See what promises of sexy donuts do to 

sugar-starved horndogs? (And walking beanstalks.) 

All over some hoochie cruller in the front row.

Christy Creams ... of course she does. 

Hey, I didn't name her.

Today's pièce de résistance ... look ma, no teeth!

Enough said.

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HAPPY CINCO DE MAYO!

It's Cinco de Mayo, a day of mucho margaritas, music, and guac til y'a drop! Okay, skip the guac and make sure those margaritas flow like the Rio Grande. BTW, throw in a few rubies, diamonds, and emeralds in honor of the Mexican flag. (If anything, I'm patriotic.) Worried about extra calories from all those, um, limes? Celebrate with skinny margaritas -- just make mine frozen and served by a bevy of buff conquistadors wearing nothing but sombreros. Por favor. (Yum.)

FUN FACT: Did you know the holiday is actually called "El Dia de la Batalla de Puebla" and commemorates the Mexican army's victory over French forces in the Battle of Puebla? Americans mistake it for Mexican Independence Day (it's not), which falls on September 16. Get with the program gringos.

Aside from our usual Photoshopped antics (it's the pic that NEVER dies), I couldn't resist seeing what popped up by Googling "Cinco de Mayo." It's the little things that make holidays so dang special. You can just imagine my "Ay Carumba!" delight upon finding the following treats.

MUY CALIENTE! 

Now THIS is my kinda party ... extra salt. 

Cinco de Nike ... sólo lo hacen.

Senorita Boop? 

This bitch loves any reason to shake her maracas.

Nothing says "let's get wasted" more than eggs.

An ex-BF after wishing instant karma on him. 

(It's an improvement.)

My fave fruit turned Mexican flag.

Sick bastages.

Um ... NOT so much joy. 

(Referencing above-mentioned ex-BF.) 

This screams "Mrs. Doubtfire 2" ... 

Robin Williams needs all the help he can get.

Scary spice. (Cholula!)

WTF? NO CUERVO?

Really? Not funny.

Just. Stop. It.

No friggin' clue. 

(Copyright infringement on my sushi bikini? You decide.)

Einstein rocking his rendition of "Frito Bandito."

Krauts just wanna have fun.

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