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Cynique

Can we talk?

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Well, another show biz legend bites the dust.  Robins Williams' death certainly warmed up the crowd for the Joan River's  show.  The attention given to their sudden deaths by the media has been relentless to a fault. But it's a sign of the times. Pop culture vultures have an avid appetite for circling the carcasses of famous creatures.  Excuse me while I wipe the blood off my beak.        

 

Still,  I mourn Joan's passing, myself.   I have always felt a special kinship with her because we were the same age, 2 cynical ol broads, dismissive of superficiality and maudlin sentimentality.  She ridiculed celebrities, bad mouthed their wardrobes and personal lives, shied away from political correctness, shocked tight-assed people, and was quick to drop the f-bomb. Above all, she never missed a chance to poke fun at herself.  A bitch after my own heart.   Rest in peace, girlfriend.  Save a seat for me. 

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I got to see Joan Rivers a couple of years ago at a screening of her bio-pic

 

"My vagina is like Newark, New Jersey. Men know where it's located, but they don't want to visit." 

 

I found this joke on our interview with Lillian McEwenshe used this joke to describe the last time she had a good laugh.  Joan will be missed. RIP.

 

Don't join her too soon Cynique

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