A friend’s mother – at 83 – has just married her fifth husband. This depresses me a lot as I’ve barely had two and both wore very thick glasses.

Over the years I have found out that it is not looks, but rather sex appeal that counts and, apparently, I just don’t have “it”. How do I know this?

Maybe because in the last fifteen years, the only thing that’s been laid in my bedroom is new carpet.

The last time a man lifted a finger for me it was an obscene gesture.

And only one man ever said he wanted to get into my pants. It was my hairdresser and it kind of hurt when he added that he also wanted to get into my bra, my garter belt and my three inch spiked heels.

Last Monday I went to Washington, DC to surprise a dear friend for his birthday. Every time I travel to Washington, I take the Amtrak Acela trains back and forth and boy oh boy, do I love doing this.

Amtrak’s service is top notch, the trains are fast and comfortable and clean and the convenience of stepping onto a train in the middle of Manhattan and stepping off in central Washington is just the best! Plus – and say it with me, “NO AIRPORT SECURITY!”

I know how important security checks are at the airports and every time I fly I am delighted that all of my fellow passengers have been checked, but couldn’t they open a few extra lanes? Add a few more security people? And try to realize that comedians are not terrorists and don’t need to be strip searched?

I have always loved the train. When I was a little girl my mother used to play train with me, “Wooo, wooo,” Joanie, “Wooo, wooo.” The first time I heard a real train whistle all I could think was, “Wow, someone’s got a very big mother.”

And Murder on the Orient Express is one of my favorite stories because it involves two of my favorite things, glamorous train travel and bumping people off.

A friend of mine had her ego deflated when she walked in on her husband and found him fooling around with an inflatable pig.

Hello, hello, hello from Israel.

It took me nine hours to get here. It should have been twelve, but I’m Jewish, so they took a third off. So far I have been extremely moved by what I’ve seen, which is the inside of the King David Hotel…stunning!

Right now I am going to the Wailing Wall which, when I’m through, will have to be called the Whining Wall. My guide is a typical Israeli. Strong, muscular, tough, battle scarred and I feel very safe with her.

We are going to see the Mount of Olives which looks like, without my glasses, like a lot of little dogs went to the bathroom on a hillside.

Jerusalem is a walled city and I have seen many gates, my favorite being the Dung Gate. Though it wasn’t that pretty, it didn’t look as sh**ty as it sounded.

The day after our Museum of Natural History visit Cooper and I went to the Bronx Zoo and again had a wonderful time.  Funny thing is that I have lived in or around New York City for most of my life and have never been to this zoo.  There are gorillas, hippos, sloths, bats and elephants.  I felt like I was at my class reunion.

But the two best, best, best moments were going into the butterfly garden and having Cooper pick out all the gorgeous ones he saw and riding on the Bug Carousel.  There is not another ride like it in the whole world: a huge merry-go-round but instead of horses there are praying mantises, bees, spiders, etc. 

I took two turns on a giant cockroach.  You can’t get more New York than that!!!!

One of the joys of living in New York is that there is so much to do--just cleaning up from last Wednesday’s steam pipe explosion in midtown was pure excitement for the commoners.

So after our trip to Disney World, Cooper and I came back to New York and had two wonderful, expensive, exhausting days together into the city.

We went to the American Museum of Natural History on Central Park West to see the IMAX movie Dinosaurs Alive!  which is billed “for children” but unless you hate the child you’re with and want it to have a complete, traumatic breakdown, don’t take the kid unless it’s over ten.  The dynos slash, rip, and chew each other in such a ferocious way-it is a sight that I haven’t seen since my last Thanksgiving dinner with my relatives.

After the movie we went on a tour of the dinosaur exhibits.  Like most boys his age Cooper is CRAZY for dinosaurs (I only wish older guys felt the same way as maybe I could get a date once in a while.)  He thought this was just fabulous!  He played with every interactive exhibit and especially loved the bone display.  Pure Heaven for a 6 year old!
   (More fun with Cooper to come.)

Cooper was more excited to go to the Magic Kingdom than Epcot Center. I personally hated the rides like Tomorrowland because in the future my boobs will be on the ground instead of in my lap.  It made me want to rename the whole place Ep-Crone Center.

But all of the characters are adorable and played by young actors.  The slightly disappointing moment came when I was told the smaller ones-Mickey, Donald, Piglet are really girls.  But…this is 2007 and transsexual is soooooo in!

Of course some of the rides look really fun while you are waiting in line but aren’t so great once you get on board.  I thought this was a good lesson for Cooper, though, as it will prepare him for marriage.

P.S.  I read somewhere that the Pussycat Dolls are going to open an amusement park.  They’re going to call it Six Hags.

(Next blog: My adventures with Cooper in New York.)

Last week I went to Disney World with my grandson, Cooper and had the BEST, BEST, BEST, time!

Everyone there is so incredibly nice even though you know its phony nice and they are trained to be courteous to customers OR ELSE.  It gives the whole place a terrific atmosphere.  (The Disney people should give seminars on how to treat the public.)

Cooper got to have a rubber sword fight with Jack Sparrow (from Pirates of the Caribbean.) 

I wasn’t sure how happy I was about my grandson dueling with a blood-thirsty pirate till I got a load of Captain Jack’s treasure chest and I am happy to announce that we are engaged to be married!

(Stay tuned for more of my adventures with Cooper.)

 The following comments and responses were excerpted from my "Poor Alec Baldwin" blog.

Big Bad Wolf wrote: The Mother Pig couldn't wait to get the Father Pig in trouble so she leaked the message.  I wish someone would blow their house down. Pigs.

There certainly has been a lot of huffing and puffing going on about this.  Luckily it has started to blow over.--xxx Joan

Mamie wrote: If he talked to his child once like this he most likely talked to her like this before and maybe her mother also. Maybe it was her way of saying she didn't want to hear it anymore.

Who would know what the truth is with all that loud oinking going on? --xxx Joan

Jeff wrote:  Once again you hit the nail on the head.  As furious as he sounded he never even cursed. If he called her a little pig she is probably even worse.

It is all such a big boar! --xxx Joan

EJ wrote: I think Alec Baldwin was WAY out of line.  We all have lost our tempers with our children but I would never think of calling my child a pig or showing so much disrespect.

Though I don't agree with you, I would never call my daughter a pig either...though when she was a little girl her nickname was Holly Hoggy. --xxx Joan

I was sent a book called Woof: A Gay Man’s Guide to Dogs by Andrew DePrisco and there is a funny section where the author compares what a gay man would name his dog to what a straight man would. Here are some of the funniest ones, plus I threw in a few of my own.

A straight guy would call a big dog Tank or Sarge, while a gay man would call him Norma.

A straight guy might call his Bloodhound Sherlock, while a gay man would name him Sniffy.

A straight man would call his Pekinese Ping Pong and a gay guy would call his Miss Cho Cho Bunny.

A straight man would call his German Shepherd Heinrich and a gay guy would call his Marlene or Jewbait.

A gay man would call his Poodle something chic like Hermes and a straight man…wait, straight men don’t own Poodles.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, I can die happy. The Spice Girls are back and with new names. No longer will they be Baby, Ginger, Posh, Sporty and Scary, they are now going to be called Emma B., Geri, Victoria, Mel C. and Dairy (she used to be Scary, but now she is nursing).

The English papers were full of them. The tour, I believe, is being sponsored by Botox and each girl will make close to $20 million, which will be just enough to pay for their diuretics.

I have nothing against them personally and I hope that they enjoy touring. Victoria made a statement that she will have to spend weeks not seeing her children, so, basically, nothing has changed.

Just remember if you go to see them, they’re a bit older, therefore it will not be just the lesbian one who is wearing comfy shoes.

It's a week now since Paris was let out of prison.  I have marveled at the maturity she has shown in all of her interviews.  Below are things that she has said in interviews and my thoughts on her statments:

Paris said:   She felt as though she was in a cage.

             Joan thought: Duh!           

Paris said: She hated the cold breakfasts and the mystery meat dinners.

            Joan thought: Definitely not the quality of food she is used to throwing up.     

Paris said: She was tempted to go on a hunger strike.  

           Joan thought: The prison cook should have made her semen flavored oatmeal.  She'd have gained 5 pounds.

Paris said: She didn't suffer in prison.

           Joan thought:  No, it was the people who bought her CD who did the real suffering.

Anyhow, welcome home.  I am so glad the warden let her keep her hair extensions, except for the ones on her legs.

I just got back from London where I did a quiz show called 8 Out of 10 Cats. One of the questions they asked the panel was, “What things could grandparents do that would annoy their loved ones?” Here are some of my answers.

Ask for a lick of your ice cream cone with their teeth out.

Send you a dollar scotch taped inside your birthday card with a note, “Buy yourself something nice.”

Live long enough to spend all of their money.

Leave their dirty diapers in your guestroom waste basket.

Talk during funerals – their own.

Ask why they can’t see their favorite TV show while staring at the microwave.

And worst of all, show up in a porno film that you’re watching.

I'm at Disneyworld this week with my grandson but I want to wish everyone a grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreat 4th of July. 

Or, as they would say here, "Have a Magical Time"!

The German government has forbidden Tom Cruise to film his new movie in Germany as they feel that Scientology is a cult and want no part of it.

                            Isn’t the world insane?

Nazis vs. Scientologists. 

I never thought this would happen – for once I’m on Hitler’s side.

Oh! - otherwise known as the Oxygen Network - did a special about the 50 Funniest Women and guess who was number 13? Yep, that’s me - lucky thirteen. The worst part of all of this is that there are now twelve more names to add to my Kill List, so watch out Ellen Degeneres.

Women in comedy have a tough time because it is still such a man’s business and men don’t like funny women; it’s as simple as that. Men are not interested in women who can use their mouths for anything other than oral sex.

Men also hate funny women because they think we are laughing at them, not with them…and for once they’re right (especially when they are over 50 and naked).