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The Art of B*tching: ‘Lysistrata’ by Rebekah Tripp

For those of you that don’t live in the Los Angeles area, you will be missing too spectacular events over the next two weekends.

The first event is spectacular due to the amount of chaos, confusion, frustration and auto related incidents that it will cause.   One of the major highways in Los Angeles will be shut down over this coming weekend.  The 405 will be closed from the 101 to the 10.   The kids are calling it Carmageddon, clever, isn’t it?  The next two and a half days will be shrouded in a state of roadway despair.  People will be left wondering, if I leave my house today…will I be safe? Will I get to my desired destination in under 3 hours?  It’s going to be intense.

The next spectacular event is next weekend and it’s a shameless freakin plug…so sue me!  It does relate to B*tches though.  One of the hottest Greek plays (yep…I said a Greek play was hot!) featuring one of the baddest Greek B*tches…is called Lysistrata.  Guess what?? I happen to be doing a reading at my theatre next weekend and guess who’s playing the Bad A** B*tch…..ME!!  So come see it and support theatre!!  (Also, it’s a contemporary version of the play…super easy to understand.  There are big ol’ fake penises on stage and Lysistrata basically plots to end warmongering by a withholding of sex by the women…it’s freakin fantastic!!)  The details:

Saturday, July 23rd @ 8pm ($20) then Sunday, July 24th @ 2:30pm & 7:30pm ($10).

@ Antaeus Theatre, 5114 Lankershim Blvd, North Hollywood, CA

Reserve your tickets: tagenow.html 

Hope you can make it out to experience a little culture.

The Art of B*tching- ‘Justice’ by Rebekah Tripp

I know she’s blind…..but is she deaf and dumb as well??  I’m sure we all know the lack of justice to which I’m referring…the stupid Casey Anthony case.   I know every person, blogger, mom, aunt, Nancy Grace wanna-be, people at the grocery store are talking about it….well…I want my say too.  This is not the first time our justice system has failed….uhh…do you remember that little case involving my favorite breakfast juice…yea…O.J.  Big fat murder up in your face Justice…..what’d you do…set the sonofagun free. 

While listening to the radio yesterday, I heard it told (yep..I just said heard it told…like I was a 75 year old woman describing the dust bowl) that Juror number 3, spoke out and said that as they were turning in the verdict….of NOT GUILTY….they were crying because they knew it was wrong.  Are you sh*tting me…then fry the crazy, baby killing el diabla!!  Apparently, there was reasonable doubt that this maniacally self centered crazy bee-sting killed her child.  I mean, obviously the jury was preeettty sure…but, there was still a teensy weensy bit of uncertainty in itty bitty jury brains.  So much doubt, that it only really took them one day to deliberate!  Anthony’s defense attorney was so nimble with the law…oh…did I mention this was only his second real criminal case…oh…and that he was denied admission to the Florida bar for 8 years due to fact that he failed to pay child support to his ex-wife..oh…and that he’s an idiot…I’m sorry….what were we talking about…oh yes…the competency and morals of the lawyer!!!

Then…let us turn to the actual charges that Anthony was found guilty of… may be stunned…it’s a whopper…………….Misleading The Police.  Yep…she misled them alright.  She said she didn’t kill her daughter, when clearly…she did!!  She didn’t report that her daughter was missing for something like, 31 days!!  Are you kidding me??  Parents…back me up on this one…you contact the police if you don’t know where your kid is at for more than 20 minutes! Ridiculous!  Regardless of whether this evidence was circumstantial or not…this lady should have been punished by our court system.

Okay….I’m still fired up…but it’s time for me to wrap this up.  Let’s just recap.  Sh*tty jury, sh*tty attorney, woman that committed the most heinous crime; killing her child.  This woman, which, believe me…it kills me to share a gender with this bit of evil in a bad ponytail, she could be walking the streets in 9 days time.  If this is justice……I want no part of it.

'Father' by Rebekah Tripp

**COMEDY WARNING!  I am about to serve up some realness here folks.  I have decided to venture into my tiny, baby heart…and I warn you…some true feeling may come out during this entry.  You see, we comedians are people too…if you prick us, do we not bleed…if you feed us copious amounts of krispy kreme donuts, do we not get the urge to purge…if you annoy us, do we not B*tch.  So…put on some Enya and read on…….**

This past Sunday was Father’s Day.  I, a humble yet fabulous server, worked this day and served a multitude of families that chose to honor their father by taking them to my most modest of shrimp shacks.  I saw many a proud papa and I saw many a child that still gazed at their dad with reverence and laughed with him about some secret funny that only they two truly understood.

I did not speak with my Dad this Father’s Day.  I think it may have been the first time.  My father passed away last October.  I know…it sucks.  My dad and I never had that typical father daughter relationship, however, he was one hell of a character and gave me fodder for jokes for the rest of my life…and for that, I thank him.  So…I decided to honor him…here….with you guys.  Below is a list; a list for my Dad.

1.  While I’m quite sure that you wanted a boy to impart all of your softball knowledge to…you got me.  Though I’m not the best softball player…I can throw that ball like the dickens…and I’m tough on the field.  I thank you…for dragging me outside to play catch when I really wanted to be inside watching TV.

2.  Thank you for introducing me to Roy Orbison. The man is ugly as sin…but he’s got a sweet, sweet voice.

3. I would not have Native American super powers…if it weren’t for you.  Thank you for taking me to Pow Wows when I was a kid (yea…no sh*t people….I went to tons!)  I thought they were a little nerdy back then but I realize now, you were introducing me to a part of history that I belonged to….that and they were pretty freakin cool.

4. I know you were super proud of me…no matter what I did.

5.  Even though, from time to time, I secretly wished that Gregory Peck from To Kill a Mockingbird was my Dad, I’m glad I got you.  For better or worse, I’m who I am because of who you were, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Okay…mushy time over.  Go hug your Dad….or an old guy that doesn’t creep you out.


The Art of B*tching- ‘Facebook’ by Rebekah Tripp

At the behest of my dearest friend Sabby, I have chosen to write about Facebook today.  We all know this social media site; we all know how many facebook friends we have, we know the sting of being defriended, and we’ve all seen that Facebook movie….except for me, I’ve never seen it.  It’s not because I don’t want to, it’s more because I prefer to keep my Justin Timberlake; the singer, as my primary Timberlake source.  I don’t like to muddle the man’s talents; I keep my focus in the realm of the musical when it comes to he that is the Lake of Timber.

Anywho, my bud seems to think I have a rather severe addiction.  You know what I say?  “Yep.  Yep I do. And if your comment were on facebook, it’s not one that I would ‘like’, I can tell you that much!” So what if I’m drawn to this world of messages and facebook chats and Farmville?   So what I say!!!  I like to indulge in the mind numbing simplicity of it all.  I’m sure we’ve all checked up on people that we’ve met once in our lives, thought they were super cute, searched their facebook picture albums for any sign of a girlfriend, and then awkwardly reached out for a friend request with a random note that says, ‘Let’s be facebook friends forever.’

Honestly, Facebook has sooo many purposes, you guys.  You can keep in touch with old friends.  It’s a great way to keep in touch with friends that live in other countries.  You can chat with people online to save on cell phone minutes.  You can upload an infinite amount of pictures therefore having a living, breathing photo journal of your life.  I even read recently that a woman created a false facebook profile in order to trick her husband into believing that he was talking to a young and attractive gal in the hopes that he would confide in her regarding his plan to murder the ex wife thus allowing her to prove that her ex husband was plotting to kill her.  See!!! FACEBOOK CAN SAVE YOUR LIFE!!

Does Facebook have its drawbacks?  Yep it does….but I mean…really, doesn’t everything?  Slap bracelets, rubik’s cube, TV’s, electricity…they all had their naysayers.  Does it bother me that some of my good yet undeserving friends have more facebook friends than I have?  Maybe.  Do I feel the unnecessary pressure of accepting friend requests from certain people that may benefit me professionally even though I don’t like them personally? A little.  Is it super weird and wrong that you can get fired from a job because of a picture that you posted on Facebook and in turn your awesome friends that took some phenomenal yet unbecoming photos of you in Puerto Rico can’t post said pics through no fault of their own?  Um, Yea! And is it funny in an awkward way that you have to keep reassuring your mom (who, yes…is on Facebook) that you have not plummeted into a deep, pit of despair you just happened to put up a sad song lyric as your Facebook status?  A bit.

Let’s get real though people.  Facebook may have me under its spell…but please…join the crazy party if you haven’t already.  It’s heavenly here.  You never have to actually stand face to face with another human being for as long as you live.  Life is at your very fingertips…so start typing and get to living!!

The Art of B*tching- ‘Midwest’ by Rebekah Tripp

You know what folks?  I’m in my home town; a little Northwest suburb of Chicago known as Carol Stream.  AND thusly…..I have zero to b*tch about.  I have only to celebrate the fact that I get to spend loads of time with my mom; the munchkin and various lifelong friends and compatriots of my fair city!! It’s been oodles…that’s right, oodles of fun and I’m ever so said that I shall soon be heading back to California. Buuuut…my happiness factor will shoot right through the roof when I get back to the West Coast because on Monday, at 8:30 am, I get to go to Downtown Los Angeles to settle the little matter of a $358 speeding ticket.  Did someone just say ‘Next week’s topic!!’????

Alright my little love nuggets….I’m about to give you an inkling as to why I love the suburbs, the people, and the Midwest as a whole.  Here it go:

*Chili’s, Applebee’s, and TGI Fridays…..are neither ghetto nor a laughing matter.  These restaurants are serious business and a fantastic place to make smart and healthy food choices after your weekly Weight Watchers meeting. (I will say that my mom used to go to Olive Garden but the service blew.  I forgive you OG…I forgive you.)

*A multitude of bars in Chicago stay open until 4am.  WHICH MEANS…on a Saturday can party, kibitz after the bar closes in the parking lot, then head to Church for Sunday morning mass.

*White washed jeans and a T-shirt with a picture of a wolf on it, is a perfectly acceptable outfit to wear to: Target, the movies, Chili’s, etc.  We’re a no fuss kind of people.

*Portillo’s reigns supreme.  If you do not know what I’m talking about…get off your *ss, head to Buena Park, CA and get yourself a BEEF…for the love of Ditka!!

*When I arrived in town…it was 90 degrees, humid, sticky and though I felt barf barf gross for 85% of the day…it was lovely.  Today…it was rainy and dropped to 50 degrees!  In this city…people die from the bone chilling cold in the winter AND from the soul sucking heat in the summer….can you beat that??

*Last night I slept during a real, bonafide thunderstorm.  Nope…it wasn’t my little ‘lull me to sleep’ piece of crap noise machine that I use in California…the angels were bowling above ladies and gents and it was beautiful.

I have to say…if you haven’t been to Chicago…you must.  I don’t believe in bucket lists…don’t stack up a bunch of sh*t you have to do before you die…because you don’t know when that may be.  So do it now. Travel to this glorious city…it’s like Cheers…the whole city.  You’ll love it.  Lord knows I do.

Mama Munchkin.  The one, the only.

The Art of B*tching- ‘Ladies Room’ by Rebekah Tripp

So…it was a toss up as to what I was going to write about today.  I traveled from LAX to Chicago by plane and, as I’m sure you can imagine, there is an ample amount of ridiculous behavior to choose from.  However, I encountered he biggest bit of nonsense, in the ladies bathroom of all places!  I must…must..must speak on it. 

B*tches, we generally give boys a tremendously hard time for being sloppy pigs.  I believe that we, as loving ladies, give the boys an even harder time about bathroom behavior; putting the toilet seat down, stinking the room up, being gross and genuinely unclean.  This has got to stop ladies.  Our dissatisfaction has got to come to an end until we can get our sh*t together and be as neat as we nag our men to be. 

Today…today was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  Come on though, we all know that girls are far more disgusting than boys.  It’s one of those widely known things that we, as women, like to keep a secret so that we can sit up in our messy towers and lord over our men with a ‘honeydo’  list a mile long.

We’ve all been in that bar bathroom that looks like 20 2 year olds were allowed to run wild and piss and puke all over the place.  It’s disgusting and, while I attempt to keep it as clean as possible…possibly due to OCD, not all my fellow females do.  Well…after today…I make a stand. I say…NO MORE.  It makes us look like animals ladies…ANIMALS.  My example is this…and if there’s one crazy b*tch out there like this…there are more: 

I was behind the same (Good God in Heaven WHY???) nasty chick in the bathroom in both LAX and Chicago’s Midway airport.  Was it rotten luck?  Was it punishment for taking my hubs iPod with me on vacation? Was it the filthiest thing I’ve seen in a good long while?  The answer to these questions are a big ol, lit up on a marquee, fireworks spelling out the words, “F*CK YES!!”  For her sake….even though I owe her nothing but a punch in the face…I will call her ‘Rita’…also….I have no idea what her name might be.  I attempted to enter the bathroom after Rita at LAX. (I must also mention…I knew she blew it up…I have ears and those sounds were not the ‘oh crap a toot escaped’  those sounds were, ‘I shouldn’t have had thai food leftovers for breakfast’.) I almost barfed.  It looked like someone had flung chili on the walls.  I apologize for my candor but I have to paint an accurate picture here.  This was too much for me and my bladder dried up like the Sahara and I hightailed it outta there.  Encounter two in Chicago.  There’s a line in the ladies room.  Just had a four hour flight while sitting next to a 13 year old boy that had boundry issues.  My bladder was about to burst.  The stall door right in front of me opens…it’s freakin RITA!!!!  I hang my head and walk into the stall while mumbling, “F*ck” under my breath.  Why? Cause I know what I’m in for!  Rita does not disappoint.  Waiting for me, just in front of the toilet is the Lake Michigan of pee.  Are you kidding??  I can’t leave…I’m about to die…there’s a line out the door. So…what do I do?  I throw down a sh*tload of TP and mop up Rita’s mess.  BARF!  Rita…I hope you get a paper cut….under your nail….and then have to put your finger in lemon juice. 

Alright….so this is where it ends.  No more entering a ladies room with the mentality, ‘this isn’t my house so I can pee where I want’.  Someone has to clean it up!  If this warning and plea does not apply to you….I promise you know someone it does apply to…feel free to school their filthy *sses!!  We gotta keep each other in check ladies.  Let’s lock it up…and let’s clean it up.  If we can fix this messy behavior, then we can lovingly judge our men with a clear conscience! Perfection.

The Art of B*tching- ‘Napping’ by Rebekah Tripp

I have, over the last year, begun to take many naps.  I fall asleep on the couch or in many occurances, climb back into the decadence that is my king size bed, snuggle under the covers…and fall the afternoon.  When I hit 30, either my schedule reverted to that of a kindergartner’s or I developed an odd sleeping sickness which is undetectable by doctors.  In an effort to embrace my new sleeping habit, I’ve developed several reasons why I think my body has gone into this state of excessive sleep.  I will list them for you now in a further attempt at rationalization of a purely indulgent ritual.

1.  Obviously my body needs the sleep, right?  My body does what it wants.  It’s a good thing I have a bit of warning so that I can get myself properly into bed or on the couch, other wise I might be in the middle of driving and fall asleep at the wheel…which leads me to…

2.  Naptime narcolepsy.  A rare, hardly/never studied condition in which certain individuals can not stop themselves from falling asleep around 2-3pm PST.

3.  My Native American super powers are going to kick in soon and my body is charging itself as best it can for the transformation that it will soon go through.

4. While I may be unaware of it now….at some point in the future….as an actress…I will play an individual that sleeps a tremendous amount or lays about all the time.  So really…this is prep for a role that could win me my Oscar

5. I am a cat trapped in a magnificently, sultry woman’s body.  

So, I think that about sums it up folks.  Now listen….there’s no need to be jealous of my present condition.  Napping is indulgent, yes.  Napping is decadent, yes.  Napping is heavenly, definitely.  Give into it.  Love it.  Let it take you a way to sleepy time during the DAY!  Before you throw up your hands in disgust….next time 3pm hits..go to your bed, couch, or under your desk…lay your lil head down..think of nothing but relaxing…and lull yourself into the divine sleep that only the middle of the day can provide.

The Art of B*tching- ‘Healthcare’ by Rebekah Tripp

You heard me!  What’s up healthcare?  Why you be trippin?  Why are you such a pain in my damn *ss?  Why, even though I have perfectly good insurance, does it still cost an arm and a leg to go to the ER or the dentist?  Why are my doctors all up in my kool-aid if my payments are a little late? GAHHHHH!!!!   

So, this is something we’ve all talked about, heard about, debated and b*tched endlessly about.  Why, might I ask, has the healthcare system yet to change?  I know…my b*tchfest is going national today.  Usually it’s all about me and I realize that tending to a national issue/need may startle you in the way that coming home to a home cooked meal prepared by my husband would startle me. (HINT if you’re reading!)  Something needs to be said and my only hope is that, when Michelle Obama sits down at her computer in her favorite sleeveless tank shirt, showing off her Linda Hamilton arms, to read the Say Something Funny B*tch blog…she’ll see this article and pay attention!! 

Do you have insurance? No? A LOT of people in Los Angeles and more over, the country, don’t and I know a ton of people that have put their health on the back burner because of the cost.  Is that sh*t right? Nope.  Is it fair? Definitely nope!  So what do we do?  I’m all about approaching a problem with a solution but I’m stumped on this one folks.   Do you have any ideas?  It’s possible that you are more educated than I…in fact…not so much possible as probable.  So get out there…stir some sh*t up.  This is my Call to Arms day!!  If you have an idea on healthcare reform or you have several….call Obama…or your mom…or anybody that will listen. 

Bottom line: Everyone needs to go to the doctor.  We teach little dudes and dudettes the importance of preventative medicine (eating well, brushing your teeth, exercise, taking all your medicine) from an early age and then once they hit adulthood it’s all, ‘sorry sucka!! You’re sick? That sucks.  You’re an actor/musician/in your 30’s and don’t have insurance?  We’ll treat you, but you’ll be paying for it for the rest of your freakin life!!”  I’m over it guys.  I’m going to go into my living room with my cat, get out the ol white board and dry erase markers and brainstorm.  I suggest you do the same.

SSFB welcomes NEW staff writer: Beautiful Rebekah Tripp

Here is a little taste of .  For the whole enchilada- tune in tomorrow for her adventures in fine dining!

Get ready for Bekah to SAY SOMETHING FUNNY…. B*tch

Rebekah Tripp was born a delightfully adorable Bitch in the winter of a year that doesn’t even immediately pop up anymore when you have to select a year on those drop down boxes when you’re filling out forms online.  She hails from the Northwest Suburbs of Chicago and went to school at ISU, where she received a BS in Theatre…yep, you read that right.  Bekah, while an actor, is an improviser at heart and is currently a member of the troupes; Improv Mafia, PIT, and CoolTripp.  She is also half of the magically hilarious duo on   Rebekah loves Portillo’s hot dogs, confrontations at sporting events, massages without the fear of an awkward happy ending, the smell of fabric softner, Boo, Andy and Munchkin, and people who still use their turn signal.

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