I can’t even get a mechanic to jump my car.

I’ve given guys dry dreams.

My rape whistle plays “The Look of Love.”

I have a cigarette every time I have an orgasm, which is how I quit smoking.

My sex life is so bad that when I got pregnant, I didn’t know if I’d give birth to a child, a carrot or a cucumber.

After a month of alternating bouts of fury and depression, Max, my Pekingese, is beginning to realize that the new puppy, Samantha, may be here to stay. He is actually starting to tolerate her, and will enter a room that she is in. He will also let her bounce around him and even give a few playful, puppy nips.

This is what happens with dogs. Every day I thank God Melissa was an only child. It would be just too exhausting having to carry both of them out to the curb!

I just finished hosting "Just For Laughs," the annual comedy festival in Montreal. I flew up there on Wednesday morning, rehearsed, did the show and came back down to New York this morning. It’s amazing to see so many comedians all together. They are not a happy group! But the festival is a very important one, and the lobby of the St. Denis Theater was filled with producers looking for new talent and new hookers.

The audiences can be very tough, too. It is filled with friends of the individual comedians (who only laugh and applaud when their friends come on), comedians who weren’t picked to perform, and people from old-age homes who got free tickets and were bussed in.

Someone claimed that Mel Gibson, who supposedly was in Montreal for business, was actually in the audience. This terrified me as the man has no sense of humor at all. The last time he laughed at this many Jewish people was during "Schindler’s List."

This is the second time I hosted Just For Laughs. The first time was in 2002 (that’s a long time ago). I remember because Carrot Top was still a bottom and Max, my Pekingese, was just three years old.

But it was great seeing old and new faces. Some of the comics that were really terrific last night were Greg Giraldo, Tom Papa and Hal Cruttenden

The city of Montreal is gorgeous—very sophisticated, very cosmopolitan and they all speak French and English—and is known for many things, including being the home (someone told me) of Cirque du Soliel. I personally am not a circus person. Maybe it’s because circus performers have always hated me. Siegfried and Roy saw me naked once, which is why Roy tried to feed himself to that tiger. Even though my new dog, Samantha, is a Havanese—a breed traditionally trained to be circus dogs, only one person in my family has ever had intimate contact with circus folk. My nephew David once dated a female contortionist, but the romance soon ended because she finally realized she didn’t need him around: During sex, she was able to sit on her own face!

The show in England physically removed me from set for saying two of George Carlin’s seven unsayable words last month.

Well, one of the hostesses, apparently in honor of National Nudist Day, did a striptease and got naked during the broadcast!

Let’s make up our minds.

Grandma Week…and you Wonder Why I’m So Tired!?!

How many laps can an old Jew do in the pool? I just found out: one and a half when you are opposite your grandson.

Cooper, who was with me all week, had just one meltdown (unfortunately it was in the fanciest restaurant in Connecticut). Otherwise he was busy spending time holding his own Olympic trials in swim, and winning big at the county fair. We now have 11 cheap stuffed animals that not even Samantha, our semi-housebroken puppy, will pee on.

But Tuesday was the last day of Grandma Week. SOB SOB SOB!

We spent it at the Museum of Natural History in New York where Cooper got to hold live snakes and lizards at the reptile exhibit. I was thrilled that he got a chance to touch an Anna Wintour and heard it rattle and hiss!

Afterwards, we saw the Mets beat the San Francisco Giants. I’m not athletic, but I have to admit was a great football game.

One of the biggest disappointments of Grandma Week was this: By the third day, I stopped fixing my hair and wearing makeup, and yet people continued to recognize me. This means one of three things:

1) I am a natural beauty.
2) Obviously hair and makeup doesn’t knock the years off that I think it does.
3) All of my fans need new glasses.

 How awful it is when you’re totally makeup-less and your hair is looking bedraggled to have a stranger approach you and say, “Joan Rivers…I’d know you anywhere.” Only one thing would have been worse. If they added, “Television does you justice!”

Last week I brought Max, my Pekingese, with me to shoot my final episode of Z-Rock (premièring Sunday, August 24th on IFC at 11:30pm!). Max has a cameo role later in the season, so keep an eye out for him!

The scenes took place at American Kennels, and between takes I was chatting with one of the employees about some of the different dog breeds they had for sale. She told me that golden retrievers are “birders” because they bring back hunted ducks and game, while wheaten terriers are “ratters” used to catch mice and vermin aboard ships.

“What is Max?” I asked her. She told me that Pekingese are “snailers”—used to hunt down snails. I think that some day, when Max is feeling high and peppy, he just might be able catch up to one and give it hell!

I was talking to my makeup-lady, Adele Fass, and trying to get from her the names of celebrities that have been rude in her makeup chair. Instead, Adele suggested that we make a list of etiquette rules that celebrities should follow.

#1: If you are a female celebrity, make sure that you eat only organic fruits and vegetables so that when you are throwing them up in the bathroom, people will think you’re a gourmet.

#2: Let your fans see you as a green person. For example, Amy Winehouse the great environmentalist's car runs solely on leftover alcohol. (By the way, the last time I saw Amy she was in the middle of Park Avenue on her hands and knees trying to sniff up the white line.)

#3: Here’s a rule that Tom Cruise follows: Always be nice to strangers—like Katie Holmes.

#4: Learn how to speak to the press. For example, when John Travolta says in an interview, “I like to keep my private life private,” he’s really saying, “I’m a pillow-biter.”

#5: In this age of media scrutiny—the internet, You Tube, paparazzi—always remember that everything you do will be noticed. So, make sure your answering machine messages are not any of the following:

“Hi, this is Paris Hilton—please leave me a message at the sound of the moan.”

“You’ve reached Monica Lewinski—please leave me a MRRGGHH URGH ARGH UMNNF.”

“George Carlin can’t come to the phone, and never will again.”

“Hi, this is Kathy Bates. I can’t come to the phone because I’m having a light snack. I’ll call you back in a month.”

“Michael Jackson can’t come to the phone at the moment because he’s outside meeting a school bus.”

“Hi, this is Stevie Wonder. I can’t come to the phone because I can’t fucking find it! Keep calling back! And let it ring!”

And after my appearance on Loose Women, this is what my answering machine will say:
“Hi, this is Joan Rivers. Don’t say anything.”

I wanted to wish you all a very happy and safe Fourth of July weekend! I’m spending mine with Cooper and Melissa in Washington, DC.

We’ve already toured the Capitol Building and the Spy Museum, which Cooper loved!

We’ve also taken him to the Lincoln Memorial, Arlington Cemetery and the Air & Space Museum.              

    Next stop: the White House. 

 Look out Bush family…here come the Rivers!