Women In Film

A lot's been happening lately, and I've been neglecting my diary writing with all the commotion -- so I'm making several entries today....

I am totally appalled! A few weeks ago when we watched those films depicting violence against women, I was disturbed, but that was nothing compared to how I feel now. And Desi wants to be an actress -- that's a career option I view with great fear. Some of the movies we've been reviewing were ridiculous and fake, but some were so graphic and brutal that it made me physically ill. Some were just sex movies, like 9 1/2 Weeks, which should be retitled 9 1/2 years because it's so boring! And you don't even see that little Sparky guy's butt once, despite the fact Kim whats-her-face is slithering around the floor totally nude for a dollar bill! And the woman who came up with this Boxing Matilda or Waltzing Helena or whatever it's called, should be amputated herself! A man kidnaps a woman and to show her he loves her, he cuts off her arms and legs. I mean, what's the point? There's not much you can do with her. . .I mean, she's nothing more than a doorstop now! And then there were the bizarre and low budget films like Headless Body in a Topless Bar (and I used to like Paul Williams!) and The Sinful Dwarf. It's frightening that actresses are subjected to these demeaning roles where they're used and overly abused, and the men not only come out looking like the heroes, but the female characters are supposed to enjoy it! I hope Desi's ambitions to be an actress are just a phase. Maybe if I get her into the pageants, I can steer her in another direction.

Natty's spent the entire week whining because I sent her to my hairdresser. Her bunned conservative hairdo wasn't prepared for the shock of an inflated treatment. So she's been running around with her usual little pinhead and this monstrous nest of hair perched on top. Don't you know Emerson loved that!

A trio of handsome young men came to the office to review these films with us, who proceeded to accuse us ladies of sexually harassing them. As if I could sexually harass a man! That would have been like if Noel had tried to sexually harass Mary Jo's dog, Brownie! I mean not only was she better looking, but Noel was a higher species. I did say one of the guys, who looks kind of like JFK, Jr., was cute, but he is cute, and he liked me for sayin' it -- so that's the end of that story!

After hearing testimony from well-known actresses and industry pin-heads, I felt obligated to speak up on this one, and I did. The country may think I'm the dumbest woman in Congress, but I'm certainly not as dumb as the women who take these degrading movie roles, and I made sure I let them know it!

The Conjugal Cottage

First of all, I've got to get a hold of that man to get stock in these pantyhose he designed. I am the terminator at tearing up pantyhose, but he brought me a pair that survived a fire unscathed. I think Emerson stretched her pair across the railroad tracks!

I know it's wrong to think this and I'll probably go to hell, but sometimes I wish that Natty would choke on her own phlegm if it would shut her up! She's been sick this week, and it's turned her into a whiny little baby! I swear, some people have no dignity! She was supposed to spend the weekend with her boyfriend in prison in the conjugal cottage. Since her sissy boyfriend Ed doesn't like to be around sick people, Emerson agreed to spend the weekend with him so he wouldn't lose the cottage. At first she didn't want to, so I said I'd do it to get Natty to shut the hell up, but Emerson said it could get to the press -- so now she's doing it instead.

When Emerson called us from the cottage, I'll bet anything she was half-naked. She was huffing and panting like she had done more than run to the phone. She said she was about to throw herself at him, and to avoid an awkward situation with Natty, she wanted me to finish out the weekend. Against my better judgment, I agreed to go.

Before I got to see Sissy, I was frisked by this female cop, who I think enjoyed her work a little too much! Even after having another woman put glue on my rear before I got into my pageant wear, I'd never felt that invaded! And the evening went downhill from there.

Ed spent his time ignoring me, with his nose in a magazine. Emerson said that they had danced and watched Casablanca, but if you ask me, that was due to his repressed homosexual desires. I mean, I'm much more attractive than Sissy, I've won many crowns in beauty pageants, and the man barely looked at me or acknowledged my presence. That says gay to me!

I was working on this candle-making project for Desi (I don't know why they would let children work with something as dangerous as candles), and I really don't know what happened. . . . .I was just trying to give Ed a preview of what he was missing and so I kissed him, and I knocked over the candles. Now it's all over the news that Suzanne Sugarbaker burned a Conjugal Cottage to the ground. People are going to wonder what the hell a United States Congresswoman was doing in a prison conjugal cottage, or worse -- think that I've been in prison - and I don't look good in orange!

North to Alaska

Natty and Emerson have been whining about their problems finding a good man, so we all made a pact to swear off guys. And then Natty stood by and let me get roped into going to Alaska to study the spawning habits of some stupid fish. We ended up finding out more about our own spawning habits, especially Natty, whom Sissy and I had to drag onto the plane to get her home.

Velilah said that Alaska was filled with all these "lumberjack Tom Cruises," but none of us took her seriously until we got there. I thought I was gonna have to track down Kay Daily to get one of her wet-naps to wipe the drool off of Natty's chin when we arrived. I guess I'd be sex-starved if I had an imprisoned homosexual boyfriend too!

Anyway, the three of us ended up having dinner with three very handsome men, who spent the entire trip worshiping us. Of Course, all men worship me, and the guy I ended up with was the rich one -- I didn't track all the way to Alaska to have an affair with some lumberjack peasant! I had my first slow-dance on a glacier and was having a wonderful time the first few days. And then I received a ring from Gil, which he told me he wanted me to keep no matter what happened between us. Since my policy is "all merchandise is nonreturnable," I intended to keep it anyway -- until I found my jewelers loupe. It turned out that the diamond was 24 carat cubic zirconium! He had nerve to think he could pass that sad little rock off as the real thing! Nothing gets past my expert eye. So, I instated my other policy: "All defective merchandise must be returned immediately!"

The three of us accused our beaus of being as fake as that diamond, but it turns out they've been treated by women the way that men usually treat us. Stuck there in Alaska, there aren't many women, and the ones they do get to date are usually just passing through. Which makes me hope that Natty didn't pick up any diseases. . .

Dear Diary

I don't know what is wrong with that Congresswoman Seizmore, other than the fact she needs a good wig. The woman has been on my case for months, but now she's launched an investigation into my personal activities. I tried to reason with her, but I think they raked those pruning sheers just a little too close to her brain. Ms. Chia-Head actually accused me of taking bribes, and when I tried to clear my name by telling her I had the facts written in my diary, she threatened to subpoena it. Who came up with that word anyway? Subpoena. . .it sounds like it's less than a regular poena. They're never going to get this book, though -- no one will ever see how much I weigh! I would rather eat these pages and gain more weight from them, than let anyone see my daily weight entries!

On the up side, Anthony arrived from Atlanta, and it's so good to see him again. He's the only man who's not a homosexual that I ever trusted enough to wax my legs. Although he did once buy some books that made me think he was a homosexual terrorist. . . But even after I've helped put him through law school, he's still the same sweet, gullible, charming black man he always was. And he's the first one I think of when I hear the word "friend." If things had worked out differently, I might have even married that man!

I've thought over every possibility, I'd flush this down the toilet but I don't know where it would go; I can't bury this 'cause the neighbors will see; I can't burn it 'cause I'd burn down the house (after Design House 86 and the Conjugal Cottage, I can't take that again)! I've drawn only one conclusion: Anthony will have to take a Carnival Cruise and throw this diary into the ocean. I've run out of options. And if he won't agree to it, I'll just have to remind him who paid for him to go to law school. In the end he'll do it, because he's a man and he'd do anything for me.

Editor's note: Talk-show host Regis Philbin, who was visiting the shoot of a Carnival Cruise commercial starring his co-anchor, Kathy Lee Gifford, claims to have been hit on the head by the diary when it was thrown overboard. The following morning on their show, Live with Regis and Kathy Lee, Regis read a few of Suzanne's weight entries on national television. The book disappeared shortly thereafter, with the exception of the few passages presented here which someone photocopied shortly before its disappearance.