Last night, when we were totally alone in the apartment, I spent ten minutes Laying-On-Hands (the way the healers do) on Lulu. I would touch her all over and say, “heal,” and “feel the heat, feel the heat.”

I looked like a total looney tune, but I had just watched the movie Elmer Gantry and I figured that if Burt Lancaster could do it, so could I! Who knows, maybe it will pay off.

As some of you may remember, about two months ago Lulu had to have her back right leg amputated because of cancer. She healed amazingly well and learned to get around within one week’s time. Unfortunately, in spite of the chemo, her cancer spread to her lungs and each day we see her deteriorate a little bit more. 

She is in absolutely no pain whatsoever and continues to be playful, annoying and her typical self. Her smile—yes, her smile!—which was always present, is a little less pronounced these days. But her eyes are bright, she’s eating like the little pig that she is, and she will run after ANY moving ball! 

Because of the tension in the house, my other dog Max is very upset and cranky, and has taken to urinating wherever he feels like it.We’ve dubbed him Captain Wee-Wee as a result. Just the other night, he left his mark on a stack of books lying on the floor. You might want to think twice before borrowing The Art of Robert Rauschenberg, The Full Collection of the Israeli Museum, and The Six Wives of Henry VIII from me' 

I have decided that I cannot go through the love/death cycle with another pet. So I’m planning to not—I REPEAT, NOT—get a new dog, but rather an elephant or a parrot, both of which can live to a ripe 60 years.

 But seriously, I am looking actively to adopt a small, female, HOUSEBROKEN dog for Max to torture and dominate once Lulu (and I hate to write this) goes to her heavenly retreat.

You may be wondering why I’m blogging so soon after my last post. As it turns out, just like with Chinese food, when you blog about China,  half-an-hour later you’re unsatisfied and ready to blog again!

I appeared live on The View on Wednesday morning, but Barbara Walters wasn’t there as she was away on her big book tour. Everything went very well, except (why is there always an “except”?) at the last minute, a producer came over to me with strict orders from ABC’s Legal Department.

“Don’t talk about China being so dirty,” he said. “People are still very upset about last month’s earthquake.” Actually, I think they were right. So, at the last minute I dropped the following jokes:

- I tried learning Chinese. Their word for “love” is “ai’qing.” Their word for “bird” is “niao.” And their word for “toilet” is “filthy hole in the ground.”

- The reason the Chinese eat their rice out of bowls held so close to their faces is so they can’t see all the bugs going in.

- Everyone claims the Chinese don’t eat dog. Maybe, but all I know is that while I was having dinner, my “lamb chop” jumped off my plate and tried to hump my leg.

Okay, let me be clear: I feel TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, DEVASTATED for the 70,000 casualties and their families. But let’s face facts, earthquakes or not, if you’re going to visit China, bring a lot of Lysol!

I’m very sad to say that Lulu’s health is fading fast, and it’s been upsetting the entire household. To make sure she’s as happy and comfortable as can be, I’ve been giving her everything that she needs, wants and likes.

It’s just breaking my heart to know that I’m the one who is going to have to decide when to “pull the plug” on her. If Melissa feels half as bad I do when she reaches for my switch I’ll know that I’ve lived a very full life.

So, the veterinarian will come by the house tomorrow—she thinks as the Messenger of Death, no doubt—but I’m still holding out for a miracle.

Please keep sending your kind thoughts and prayers.

I was asked by the Broadway Show League to be taped explaining “what Broadway means to me.” It was supposed to be for the opening of this year’s Tony Awards. I worked very semi-hard, and came up with the following three:

1) Broadway means I can celebrate the Great White Way without having to attend another Klan rally.

2) Broadway means that these days I’ve got to drive to New Jersey with a roll of quarters just to find a peep show booth.

And lastly,

3) Broadway means I no longer have to travel 3000 miles to get to Disneyland.

Well, the Tony committee just called to say they’ve written a different opening and will no longer need my services.

*#!*@#!

Actually, after re-reading what I wrote, I think I’m lucky.

Oh well….Happy Memorial Day!!!!!

 Don't forget to tune in today  to The View. 

 I'll be on live chatting with the girls about my upcoming projects...and having a few laughs as well.

Does anyone have any idea what a Super Delegate is?

Attention shoppers! Want to have a wonderful afternoon and forget that there is a recession on? Want to feel like a European in America with a pocketful of Euros? Want to feel like a hot tootsie who is married a rich, old guy and spends her days poking through stores so that when she gets home she is so tired that she doesn’t even notice that he’s poking her? Then VISIT YOUR LOCAL THRIFT SHOP!

Coming from my agent’s office this afternoon I was suddenly aware that he was on a street with many thrift shops and, though my schedule is very packed with lunches, designer shows, high powered meetings, interviews for magazines and major television shows and, though the paparazzi follow me everywhere, I still managed to find time to shoehorn in a little bargain shopping.

I found great, unusual and truly conversation starters in several of the shops I hit today. For example, a perfectly wonderful tweed skirt that smelled only slightly of urine (but at this age that is what is expected of me).

 A glamorous, kinda red wig, that, perhaps to an uneducated eye would look ratty, but I’m sure that 10 minutes at a high boil will make it something even Rapunzel would have been proud of. Several bracelets for the “forgotten women” - or perhaps they were elephant collars - which were all in very appealing colors if you like the Hungarian flag. And first edition paperbacks of many books that nobody cares about except Jackie Collins’ agent.

What fun I had meeting new fans that I usually only see from the tinted windows of my limo as they prepare their little beds for the night outside the shelter.

The high point of the afternoon was when one girl in the shop said, “Joan Rivers, can I take a picture with you? I’ve just dropped off a donation.” “I think I bought it,” I answered and then, being me, a great thought occurred to me, “Why not have her bring the things directly to my apartment so that we can cut out the middle man?”

Barbara Walters has just come out with a book that tells who she has slept with including actors, world leaders and just plain old rich men. Well I have a list too and though mine is not quite as glamorous as Barbara’s I am still proud of it:

Gumby

Mutt and Jeff

Gertrude Stein (while Alice was in the kitchen baking)

Ernest Hemingway (while Gert and Alice were in the kitchen washing the baking pan)

Harry S. Truman (who claimed that the buck stopped with me)

Anwar Sadat (who told me Barbara stank in bed)

And Mrs. Sadat (while Barbara was with Anwar).

Please excuse the slight break in my posting on the blog, but my assistants have deserted me!  Matt, has been away at Jazz Fest in New Orleans and Jocelyn, has been on Grand Jury duty.  No one is around to keep me on track but the payroll continues on as usual.

Matt saw a lot of different music at Jazz Fest and around the clubs in New Orleans at night. He saw and loved a Cajun/Celtic punk group called the Zydepunks, a blues singer named Bettye LaVette, the legendary Kermit Ruffins, Bonerama, Trombone Shorty, Steel Pulse, The Roots and has been boring me to tears with stories all day. When he started to tell me who he didn’t like, I perked right up. According to Matt, Stevie Wonder had a dull, flat, lifeless set. I think the problem was that the macramé planter on the back of Stevie’s head was clanking around so much that he couldn’t hear himself sing.

Here is what Jocelyn has been doing on the Grand Jury; so far she has sent 12 twelve bank robbers, 8 rapists, 5 hookers, 2 pickpockets, 1 mail frauder and 12 grifters to trial and, more than that, she has totally convinced her fellow jurors that we should go back to the old ways of branding, drawing and quartering, burning at the stake and, of course, all accused witches will be dunked.