All wrapped up in Lance and his 6th victory, almost forgot to wish Jaquline and Mick a happy birthday!
Viva Lance Armstrong
Armstrong’s tour de force
17:22pm 25th July 2004 Lance Armstrong secured a record sixth Tour de France victory on the Champs Elysee after surviving the final stage unscathed.
The Texan, who recovered from testicular cancer before winning his first Tour in 1999, became the first man to win six editions of the most competitive race in cycling.
In doing so, he surpassed five-time winners Jacques Anquetil, Bernard Hinault, Eddy Merckx and Miguel Indurain.
After covering 3,391.1 kilometres in 20 days’ racing, the 32-year-old finished with a comfortable lead of six minutes, 19 seconds ahead of the German champion Andreas Kloden. Ivan Basso of Italy was third.
Although his achievement is unprecedented, Armstrong has not often looked stronger and he is considering returning next year to try for a seventh victory.
That will dismay his rivals, none of whom were in the same class as the US Postal rider this year.
This was supposed to be his toughest July yet with the route designed to counter his strengths, while at least four competitors were said to have realistic chances of beating him.
However, Jan Ullrich, a winner in 1997, did not even manage the second place (schade war Deutschland?) he has achieved on the three other occasions he has raced against Armstrong in the Tour.
Tyler Hamilton, meanwhile, and the Spanish duo of Roberto Heras and Iban Mayo all dropped out with injuries before the finish.
Richard Virenque gave the French reason to celebrate as he won a seventh Tour of the Mountains jersey while Australia’s Robbie McEwen secured the green points jersey.
With a goddess like Sheryl on your side, winning is easier. I adore Lance and his ambition, not even cancer can keep the man down. CONGRATS Lance.
Emotional roller coaster rides (and some week old photos)
Ah, life if the suburbs, it gets dull, so to make things lively and exciting, relatives scrap and fight. So good to be here in CT again, getting screamed at by various relatives after they have a few drinks. Makes you want to move here.
We didn’t go to NYC after all, too much driving. We stayed up in MASS for a few more days where gray squirrels and the Red Sox rule. We headed south to CT on Tuesday night and arrived at 1am or so and got hit with bad news. NO INTERNET!
Have I gotten so high maintenance that I can not surrive with out internet? I thought I was suffering already with a MAC lap top up at Betsy’s, not being able to down load photos or use cute colored letters to treat your eyes to some fun while you should be working.
But now, no internet, I felt like a junkie must feel with no smack. My uncle Billy who just miraculously got out of jail, what should have been a 20 year sentence for a fatal car accident (he was in passanger seat and was fighting with his gal who was driving) anyways they hit an on coming car 4 years ago and killed the driver 🙁 and he has been sitting in jail ever since. Apparently my bitchy phone call motivated his appointed lawyer to get an appeal, he won and is now free. I do not make this stuff up, I actually sugar coat things so Jerry Springer doesn’t call.
Anyhow, Billy and I both yearn for the internet so we hounded the cable company and that didn’t work, so I called a guy who calls himself the Computer Guy aka Tim, an older southern man who helped us several times by coming over and charging next to nothing to fix the PC.
Since then, lets see, Jasmine had her two best buddies come here to join us and the house is packed, it is hot as hell and as usual, the yearly family feud has broken out over who the hell knows what. It sucks always being the visitor, you walk on egg shells and feel bad about your strange habits. Can’t wait to have just one big ass house somewhere and make everyone come visit me for a change. Naturally my yard will be full of dogs.
The thrill has kind of died now over the photos, but better late than never:
This one above is Laurie, a friend of mine now, but years ago, she was the friend of my aunt Caron and Nancy, in other words, I have known her since I was 5 years old or so. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body and I think her face resembles Burnedette Peters a bit. Her 21-year-old son, Rick, is a DJ on WCCC, Connecticut’s best classic rock station. He does the late show on Monday and Tuesdays I believe. I mean the REALLY late show. I will be his guest this Monday night and he said I may be able to play what ever I want, in other words, predominantley Frank Zappa, Beatles and Led Zepp, maybe some OLD Pink Floyd (I won’t even listen to anything with out Roger Waters on it) and then maybe some Alice Cooper or Janis, Doors or Moody Blues. I will try not to swear 🙂
That is Felicia and Kill Bill at Pastoris in Ellington.
Shannon and I at Pastoris.
This is Steve, I call him Elton because he sings EXACTLY like Elton John. Very cool dude. 
Above, from right to left is Steve, Shannon, Laurie, her man and the blonde is Shannon’s cousin, whom I guess somehow, must be related to me. We almost had words when she proudly talked about her being a Republican and how she loves Bush and works in Hartford at the Capital in politics and will absolutely vote for Bush. If I was a dog, the hair on my back would have been standing up so tall, it would have looked like a fucking mohawk. I guess it is best NOT to talk politics in a bar after drinking margaritas . Live and let live, live and let live, I keep telling myself.
I have more photos, like the one of Chris whom I hired up in MASS, but I will wait until I get my ass back to NYC to download more photos and crop them and all that crap, as this PC could die any minute.
Billy, my uncle I mentioned before, loved it when I printed out my blog and sent it to him. I am not much of a letter writer as I have too much writing to do as it is, so this blog is kind of a lazy way to keep in touch with everyone at the same time, without having to type the same shit over and over again to all of my pals.
Anyhow, he loved it and showed it to all of the inmates and it was entertainment for all of them, glad it helped fight off boredom for someone.
Last night, (Friday) Jasmine, Rachel and Hannah all went to the mall and then to Golf Land in Vernon. My ol pal Vickie Lindstrom brought them from the mall to Gold Land, and we thought all would be well. I got a call from them and they were yelling “the place was held up and robbed! we have to give statements cause we were witnesses!” HELLO! Are my family police/drama magnets?
Can’t we just go out once without the cops being involved? I think not. Anyhow, They were screaming and all I was thinking was, GREAT! Rachel’s mom will LOVE this, I let them go to where crazy guys dressed in army gear run amok with huge shot guns?
The guy (how pathetic must you be to HOLD UP an arcade?) was dressed from head to toe in Army clothes and was packing a huge gun. First he held up the staff with big ass knives, got his loot and waved the gun around while he ran off. The girls saw the whole thing and several cop cars (they said a dozen) came and also some under cover detectives. The girls were giggling the second time they called, saying the detective that was interviewing them went to Rockville High School with me and knew me as Dot Jagger/Leckner.
I told them to put him on the phone. His name was Steve, but I wouldn’t recognize him unless I saw him, he found it amusing these 15 year old gals there with German passports, he was like, “what the HELL are you gals doing in Vernon, CT!!??” They told him and he said, ah, Vickie brought you here, and Dot? Oh, I know her too!” We had a good laugh on the phone and he dropped them at Denny’s (most exciting place in Vernon) as the Golf Land was closing and I wasn’t there yet.
The girls LOVE to go to Denny’s and gawk at the scanky looking crowds that pile in there after 11pm. It is so entertaining to eat and watch the stream of weirdoes come in and out of the place. It is open 24/7 so anyone who is under 21 hangs out there and then when the bars close (a whopping 1am) folks come there to eat and see if there isn’t something they could drag home with them.EW!
My assistants Joy and Catherine have been busy massaging the manager of KISS’s (Doc) wife, Wendy. She LOVES my team. I haven’t massaged her yet; I hear she is gorgeous and sweet too. I am to massage a band called Disturbed (do YOU know who they are, as I don’t) on July 30th in NJ.
I have missed a lot of what’s going on because I have had NO INTERNET!! Can you feel me! I guess camping would be out of the question for me, as I am too high (tech) maintenance, I admit it.
But then again, rolling around in the mud/dirt with bugs and having to wear flip flops cause the shower floor is too nasty and smells like ASS doesn’t sound appealing to me anymore, I did that for years following the Grateful Dead. Can’t believe they are on tour, I miss Jerry!
Gotta scoot.
Dr.
Ask Dr. Dot
Dear Dr. Dot,
I can’t keep an erection, especially with a condom.
Chris.K Jersey City
Hey Chris,
My theory is, fluoride is responsible for softies. In the US, there is a lot
of fluoride in our drinking water, which gives us nice teeth but makes our
men soft down there. In Europe, the men have horrible teeth but are as stiff
as a board and can go all night; so,it must be the water! Try drinking Evian or
imported water for a month AND try to make your lady orgasm before you even
grab for a condom.
————————————————————————————————
Hi Dr.
I need cheap ways to look gorgeous.The competition is stiff here in the city
and I am not rich.
Christy, NYC
Dear Christy
1. if you have those porno-like fake nails, stop getting them, men don’t
care about them anyways.Do your own pedicure and coat toenails and cuticles
with vaseline before showering to make the polish last longer.
2. Forget brand named clothing, jewelry and shoes. It doesn’t matter as long
as you look clean and polished.
3. Shave, don’t get waxed. It saves time and money.
4.Wet and Wild lip liner, nail polish etc is super cheap and no one will
know the difference.
5. You can cut corners on everything except your hair, pay for a good
colorist, but get a $10 cut at a barber shop.
6.Drink club soda when you go out. It hydrates your skin and only tap water
is cheaper.
7.Buy a oil free sun block for your day cream, you don’t need any other face
cream in the day. For night time, ask your dermatologist for a prescription
cream that erases fine lines.Use vaseline around eyes.
Kiss in Boston (Paul Stanley got the Dr. Dot rub down)
“Dot – I don’t know where to begin….I had SUCH a blast tonight (last night) from the bar to meeting Paul Stanley….I don’t BELIEVE I met him…he looks fuckin GREAT!” …Robyn
Let me back track here about Thursday night before I get to the amazing Paul Stanley part. I was told by Mike, Betsy’s son, NOT to go to Red’s bar and Grill in Lynn Mass to do karaoke. He said “Dot, it is a Hell’s Angels bar, you will get stabbed and they all do coke there, people get killed there” blah blah blah. The more shit he talked about the place, the more determined I was to go out and do karaoke there! The Dj, “Jimmy Ice Entertainment” had told me about the place. I met him last year when he was the karaoke DJ at another place in Lynn. So at least I would know someone there, he and his pal Joe. After miles of the NASTIEST neighborhoods I have seen in a LONG time, I mean, I am NOT prejudice at ALL, but I was the only white cracker around for MILES. I stopped into a shop to get cough drops (trick to sound better at karaoke) and people were just staring at me like “I know you lost white girl”.
It doesn’t matter to me what color people are, you are either cool, or you’re not. BUT this area looked scary, run down and dangerous. Like they say “Lynn Lynn the city of Sin, you never come out the way you went in”. Anyhow, I crossed some rail road tracks and there was Reds. I pulled in and the parking lot had an all girl soft ball team out side smoking cigs. I didn’t see any Hells Angels, K? Inside there was several TV’s adorning the wooden walls and some folks playing pool. I sat at the bar and noticed most of the folks at the bar were older and all buying lotto/lottery tickets the whole time and they were engrossed in some kind of lottery game or show on half of the TV’s (don’t ask, as I am no expert on that) AND on the other TV’s, there was a Red Sox game. I doubt there is any other city in America that is SO into their local baseball team as here in Bean town. What the HELL is so exciting about watching a game that 1) You aren’t actually playing 2)You have no control over who wins or loses, but get upset anyways if your team loses 3) The men wear tight polyester pants 4) Takes HOURS to end Oh Gawd I just can’t share the joy and or agony of watching any sport, I want to do something, not watch it. People from Boston are so obsessed with the Red Sox and baseball in general, it boggles the mind. All women in this huge area like it or not, are baseball widows.
The men are THAT glued to the game. I am sure they would prefer to watch their beloved Red Sox over a strip show hands down! Anyhow, there were no coke sniffing bikers at this BORING bar and once again, 80’s style perm/hair do’s ruled the room. I asked someone at the bar, “Is this the White peoples bar?” as I looked around and noticed there was NO hispanic or blacks anywhere around. Strange, as the area all around the bar was absolutely dark skinned. Odd how all the white folks gather at this boring bingo bar and watch baseball on TV. The karaoke thing was merely an annoying distraction to the TV crowd. They were kind of pissed off every time some one sang, and when they clapped so effortlessly at the end of every song, I know it was because they were glad the fucker stopped singing. It was NO fun to sing there ,as you really had the feeling the whole bar wanted you to shut up so they could hear the game. I sang two songs and beat feet out of there. You KNOW the place sucked if I leave early, as normally I pay the staff to stay longer so everyone can sing longer.Not the case here. In short, I don’t recommend it at ALL, even if there is NOTHING to do, stay home and wank instead, or eat ice cream.Plus, if I hear that song from the Grease sound track again, actually, any of the songs, I will vomit profusely.
Since KISS didn’t want a massage before the show, their very cool manager Doc asked me to be at the hotel around midnight to massage Paul. I could have gone to the show, but Great Woods (tweeter center in mansfield mass) is far from Wakefield and it is a bitch to get through the traffic (ask my assistant Stephanie who had to get through it to massage Sting). I decided I would pass on seeing the show. I mean, they put on a KICK ASS show but I wasn’t in the mood to fight traffic. I asked my pal Robyn to meet me at Seaport Bar & Grill on 150 Northern ave in Boston.Along the way I got to see most of downtown Boston and I remembered how quaint it is. It is clean, small, friendly but has so many construction sites and one way streets, it is almost impossible to find your way around in a car there. Better to just park where ever you get off the highway and take a taxi. Anyhow, I saw online that this Seaport Bar has karaoke on Friday and Sunday nights. It is actually on the water, big boats docked all around it and all. We had a great time (I will post photos from all of this on Tuesday) catching up and laughing our sarcastic asses off. She wasn’t in the mood to sing, but I was ( I sang 1 Beatles tune and 2 Zepp tunes). There is a great vibe in this joint, everyone is happy and friendly, very into the karaoke and it is cheap as HELL there. Didn’t catch the DJ’s name, but it is a guy in his late thirties who speaks with a heavy Boston accent (it is fun making them say the words “park the car”). This DJ is the best so far in MASS, he is fair, every one sings when it is their turn, (regardless of breast size or if they are a regular) the sound was awesome and he only played music in between singers briefly while he looked for the next song. I highly recommend this place.I have to say, I felt a tad like Jessica Simpson for a second when I asked the bartender what the difference between chicken tenders and buffalo tenders was. I even said “I don’t mean to pull a Jessica Simpson on you, but what is the difference?”.Hey I was a strict vegetarian from age 10 until just 2 years ago, now I just eat chicken a couple times a month for protein, so this buffalo thing threw me off.
Robyn and I took a taxi to my car and I can’t believe it only cost $10 to park at a garage in Boston! In NYC it would have cost me $40. This place is cheap! We drove to the Ritz Carlton Hotel and dragged my massage table (yeah, the one I am not supposed to be carrying) to the fancy smancy bar. We sat at this dinky table, me with one eye on the lobby/door to see when the band would come in. Tiny parades of scantily clad groupies (I will DEFINITELY be inserting a photo of them HERE asap) were already circling the bar.It reminded me of the good old rock and roll days when there were still groupies around. I seldom saw them in Germany, actually only when KISS played did I see such groupies. They all strolled around the bar looking like “uh, we are just normal guest here, don’t mind us”. Most had painful Fuck Me shoes on with micro mini skirts and bleached Vince Neil/Poison hair.I was thinking to myself “they still make you?” but I wasn’t feeling mean, I understand their desire, their hunger and curiosity.
Three of them sat down on a sofa across from us and asked me in such a sweet, innocent girly kind of way “could you take a photo of us?”. I did -and one with my camera too. They drove down from Manchester, NH for the show. They asked about my shirt (I changed into my drdot.com t-shirt in the car) and I showed them my flyer. One of them said she had been to my site before, so I gave her my flyer. All three gals were gawking at my flyer when Paul Stanley and Eric of KISS walked into the bar.Paul said “Dr. Dot! How are you?” . The groupies jaws (and Robyn’s too) all dropped in amazement. I gave Paul a hug and introduced him to Robyn. Paul then introduced me to Eric, who acted like he knew me, but when I massaged KISS over the years, Peter was on drums, so I had never met Eric.I told Paul I live in NYC now and he said that he lives in LA and I said no problem, I have two great assistants out there. He said “Dot, sending one of your assistants to massage me would be like me sending an assistant out on stage to do my show, people want the best, not the rest”.
NOTE: Here is a word from Robyn: “After an emotionally exhausting day full of hysterical crying, beach lounging, compulsive shopping then more crying – I obviously needed help from a pro. Lucky for me, Dr. Dot was in Boston and I knew a few hours of girl time would cure all that ailed me. We met at the Seaside Bar and Grill on the waterfront where Dot and I gossiped over a few cocktails. She also gave me some much needed relationship advice. Dot is one of the few people who can “kick me in the ass” so to speak and give me the honest advice that I need. So thanks Dot! But the purpose of our jaunt to the Seaside was so the lovely Dr. could get her Karaoke on. Man, that woman can belt out a Zeppelin tune that would make Mr. Plant’s jaw drop. All the men (even the ladies) were in awe. Then the clock struck midnight and Dot had to shuffle off to the Ritz to meet up with the Kiss crew after their show at the Tweeter Center. So we’re sitting in the bar watching the scantily dressed groupies filter in and the next thing you know Paul Stanley is standing behind me. My jaw hit the floor. I never get star struck but there he was the singer of Kiss without make-up looking absolutely fabulous. He greeted Dot with a big hug. The last time she massaged him was in Germany so she informed him she’s in the states now. However Paul lives in LA not the NY/NJ area where Dot’s based. But she informed him she has assistants in LA and Paul replied “Dot, I don’t want an assistant. That’s like me sending an assistant on stage to sing – no one wants that, they want the best.” I thought that was the funniest thing ever – but its true. No one can beat a Dr. Dot massage. Dot and Paul took off to massage land and I walked home screaming into my friends answering machine “I just met Paul Stanley from Kiss!!” Thank god Dot lives 237 miles away from me – I don’t think Boston could handle the two of us together. So thank you Dot for yet another memorable and therapeutic evening.” Robyn Hale Editorial Advisor FAT CITY Magazine PO Box 120196 Boston, MA 02112
Back to my train of thought. Doc (manager) walked in the bar and said hello.He was planning on getting a massage after Paul. Doc is a VIP manager type, he kicks ass and does so with a smile. Last show I saw of KISS, he insisted that I sit on the sound board and watch the show, and he sat me in his chair. He has a directors type chair, you know, those Hollywood type chairs with the stars name embroidered on it, and his says ‘DOC’ on it. I felt honored to be in the kings chair. Respect. Doc and Eric went off and relaxed in the bar, and were probably adored by the harem of gorgeous ladies that lingered around. Paul didn’t want a drink, he said (rather loudly in front of the groupies) “No, I don’t want to sit here at all, I want my rub down Dot”. He had a sore hip from all that jumping around he does on stage, so we headed up to his giant suite. Paul is not your ordinary rock star type. Not brown nosing one bit here, you know me, I don’t do that, but the man is very deep, he has his head screwed on properly and multi-talented. He showed me many paintings he has done on his lap top and the art he does would make Ronnie Wood a bit jealous. He does portraits, like one of his dad and a self portrait that rivals top notch art work. He has his art work on display and for sale in galleries out in LA. I told him people would buy it in a heart beat if it was available online, it is gorgeous material.
Plus, most KISS fans know, that Paul was played the lead role in Phantom of the Opera up in Toronto from May until October 1999. He got raved reviews and told me they want him to star again in the play on Broadway as soon as he has time, for three months or so. He showed me photos of him dressed as the phantom and he looks so mysterious. While were surfing around on his lap top, I showed him my web sites and the links section, I asked him if the KISS banner I had was the correct site as there are so many KISS sites, he clicked on it and said , yes, that is the one (http://www.kissonline.com) and he showed me around that site. How cool that was having Paul show me the KISS site and showing him mine. He saved my www.puredrdot.com site in his ‘favorites’ on the lap top. 🙂 I was also honored to see his private photos of his cute as a button 10 year old son. Curly strawberry blonde hair, light brown eyes, oh gawd he is an angel. The girls haven’t a chance when he grows up. I massaged him for around 90 minutes, sweating my ass off to give him the best massage ever, plus he must have had the fire place going, as it was super warm in his room and it smelled of fire wood. He said he had spent the day before walking around Boston shopping.He doesn’t seem to mind when people recognize him or ask for autographs, he said it is normal to him and I know they adore their fans. He is in great shape by the way, and wins the prize hands down for the best calves in rock and roll. I mean, I have massaged him many times before, but his calves are in top shape now, like a professional bicyclist who just finished Tour de France or so. I don’t think Paul smokes or drinks, and I know he eats super health. He says he doens’t eat before a show as it may make him too sluggish, ditto with massage, he never gets a massage before the show as it relaxes him too much.
After the massage he wrote me a check, how cool is that to have a personal check from Paul? It has his name on it in full, Paul Stanley. I doubt I will even cash it, it is just too brilliant. I was admiring his jewelry while he was writing the check and he told me most of it was made for him personally in Japan. He has exquisite taste in jewelry, I know, I know, I sound SO ass kissing here, but I can’t help it, he is fucking cool. His jewelry is all silver and he has these thick, kind of linked chains, but each link has a design on it and one has a big purple square brilliant stone on it, looks like something a king would wear. They all have those clasps on them, you know the one the Brits have on their pocket watches, the silver bar that slips through the silver hole. They look like royal jewels. Even his wallet is majestic looking, dark brown suede with silver and stone jewels on it, and it has a long thick silver chain that can detach if needed to prevent pick pockets, I said “I doubt anyone gets close enough to you for that Paul”. He is relaxed, friendly and very intelligent. Organized, clean and has impeccable taste, like I said, not a typical rock star. He said the band is better than ever right now, tight, full of energy and tough as nails. I regret not seeing the show now. It is kind of embarrassing when the star asks you “So, how did you like the show” and having to say, well, I didn’t go, it was too far, etc. It was so late by the time I left, Doc didn’t want a massage anymore, and so Paul got the concierge up there to carry my table down for me, what a gentleman! I didn’t take any photos, I already have a whole KISS section on my sites and when a person gets a massage, they get so relaxed and covered in oil, that is NOT the time to take a photo. No matter, take my word for it, Paul is looking great! I will post his autograph soon though. I tell you, it is such a pleasure to work with KISS, especially Paul, he is generous (HUGE tipper) and very polite and fun to chat to.
I can’t wait to see Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. I guess I will head down to NYC later tonight, Jasmine has her gal pal Rachel Liebeskind (the daughter of Daniel Liebeskind who is the architect doing the new world trade center) with her and they are demanding to go to the city, apparently CT is too dull for them for a whole week. I understand this, as it is true, if you are under 21, keg parties in the woods and hanging in the mall is about all the burbs have to offer the wild youth. This has GOT to be my longest blog ever, your eyes must need a massage by now. I will be adding photos and links, color and all that when I get my hands on a PC. KISSes
Dr. Dot
Doug from CT comments on my Turtle’s Sex
Dear Dot,
you conclude incorrectly that since Sugar appears to have “bitchy attributes” that Sugar is female. After closer inspection of the picture of Sugar and Spice, and taking into account both turtles behavorial patterns and lineage, I have come to the conclusion that Sugar is most definitely male. In the photo, I discovered a “Gleam” in sugars eye as he was looking at Spice. It was the “I want to do the turtle nasty with you, the naughty, the nice, the ‘give it’ to you Spice.” The reason he appears “bitchy” is because of his Arabian lineage, and his strict observance of the Koran. In fact he lusts after, longs for, yet despises Spice for her “free love,” Greek heritage and shell wiggle as she walks. She’s an infidel, walking with her head UNCOVERED, extended out FAR and HIGH beyond the perimeter of her shell, where it should be kept retracted, hidden, out of sight. So you see, Sugar is indeed a male, He’s just not turtley enough to ‘git’ some Spice in his life; He’s just a virgin, suffering from male back-up syndrome, a Muslim religious zealot, who displays outwardly bitchy female attributes.
Doug
From Heaven to Hell in one evening (by way of Massachusetts)
You know I am here in Mass, Wakefield to be exact, visiting Betsy (my Mom type friend) and waiting to massage Kiss today (Thursday) and Friday, that is, if they don’t cancel last minute like some rock stars do, because, well, they are rock stars dammit and can do what they want when they want to.
Anyhow, last night proved to me that MASS is much more uptight then CT, and here I was thinking that CT has Nazi’s as cops, you know, following you around while you drive, making you nervous until you do something wrong, then they pull you over and give you a ticket. I thought NO cops can be more uptight than CT cops, they are power hungry, control freak Nazi wanna be muther fuckers. Honest, if you don’t believe me, ask the folks who live there. At least they let me slide with my German drives license, but NOT in MASS.
I tired to go out Tuesday night to a SHIT hole in Malden MASS called Rain to do karaoke and you would think since it was raining its ASS off and there were only 5 people in the whole place, including the wanker bouncer type dude who called himself Jimmy, they would WANT people to come in and buy some drinks, but they made it so hard and scoffed at my German Drivers License and told me they don’t except such ID (hey, I know I look young, but come ON I definitely look older than 21) BUT no, even though I had a wallet full of other ID (none with a photo on it) and many credit cards that prove who I am (well, that match the name on my German License) he was flexing his power muscle and refused to let me in.I drove over 40 minutes to get there in the pouring rain and he was set on being prick of the evening. That has nothing to do with the cop behavior, I know, but he was acting worse then a cop.
Jasmine and I were cruising around Wakefield and the surrounding towns looking for something to do on Monday night, and the local cops were following us, wondering what we were doing/looking for. Maybe it is the bumper sticker on the back of my car that pisses the cops off (?) It reads ‘Ass, Gas or Grass, no one rides for free” then next to it is another sticker of Homer Simpson, mooning you and pointing at his bare ass, as in, KISS MY ASS (he has that expression on his face,hard to explain). But, Jasmine and I did discover, this Pilgrim type white bread area closes down at 10 p.m. sharp, the ONLY thing open within a 45 minute drive is a 7/11 (for those of you who don’t know what a 7/11 is, it is a shop that NEVER closes, and I mean, NEVER and they are ALL over the US and always operated by men from India, Bangladesh or any of those surrounding countries, hence the accent of the one running the Kwiki mart in the Simpsons).
Anyhow, this is a NO fringe blog week, no fancy colors, no photos, no links, it is the bare blog, as I have to write it on a MAC and the usual options are not visible on Betsy’s MAC 🙁 So, tonight, I experienced a bit of Heaven on earth. I searched online for a Massage Therapist in this area and found an angel. Her name is Chris and she runs her own spa type clinic near here and I proposed to her the idea of joining the Dr. Dot army }:) We made an appointment and I went to her and she gave me a rub down. She is an angel, so strong and naturally pretty. She painted her clinic all on her own, decorated it herself too and it smells lovely, looks cozy and clean and very professional. Her team is extremely educated and talented too. I hired her and she will be on our site as soon as I get back to civilization where I can download my new photos and blog normally again (say, next Tuesday probably).Until then, you can check out her web site at: www.essentialbodyworkandmassage.com of course you have to copy and paste it into your browser as I can not do the fancy link adding with my basic, naked blog features on the MAC 🙁
After a nice long chat and getting to know each-other, we were amazed at how many things we have in common and it felt meant to be, she told me she was ready to try to get her hands on stars again, as she used to work in a Hotel in Boston and did get to massage some stars there, like Motley Crue, Jamiroquai and many famous athletes and play writes. Since she has been busy they last fews years with her Spa, she hasn’t had the time or contacts like she used to, so it was strange that I contacted her, as she said that is exactly what she wanted.
I left and headed south on I 95 to a town called Canton, MASS. I found out about a place online that has karaoke on Wednesday nights. It is called T K O’Sheas on Neponset street. It was like walking onto the set of the Wedding Singer (didn’t you see that movie yet?) The few chicks in there all had this perm gone wrong and acid washed jeans, deep evil tan that has left their skin looking like beef jerky. The female DJ had it out for me right away (did you expect anything else?) She looked like the woman in “Something about Mary” who shows her tits, you know, the loud neighbor lady who is so brown from tanning? I dressed WAY DOWN as not to ruffle any feathers/egos, I know better. I wore army pants and a light purple sweater with ‘don’t shag me sandals’ and a jean jacket.
Still, she made me wait AGES to get to the mic and I did my best version of Bobby McGee to test the waters. I noticed she didn’t like me when she CRANKED the echo effect which made it sound like I sang every word twice. The sound system sucked anyways, even the amp in my car could blow her system away. Anyhow, I noticed most men sang two times each then it was finally (90 minutes later) my turn again and I belted out Black Dog (Led Zepp) which was drowned out by the Dj chatting loudly to a bunch of Metro Sexual Yuppies who has strolled in just as I started the song. These guys had the same eyebrows as Sharon Stone had in Basic Instinct. Honest. Each one of them sang a Billy Joel song which only made me despise them more. I am starting to hate Bon Jovi, Billy Joel, Sinatra and Bruce Springsteen’s tunes because of OVERPLAY in karaoke clubs. In NYC, every fuck thinks they should do one of the four aforementioned groups because they are in the NYC/NJ area. Karaoke clubs and bars play these groups over and over and OVER again, it almost makes you sea sick.
Back to the Hell part of this blog.No, it wasn’t the old permed-like-your-mama’s-nasty-poodle DJ wench, it gets worse. The bar is shaped like a doughnut so you can see everyone and vice versa. I noticed trouble brewing and was praying to GOD to let it start AFTER my next song as I waited another HOUR to sing and I was sure I would be next ( I was almost ready to bribe the bitch, but since I blew $260 the other night doing just that, I behaved). Suddenly two fat guys started yelling at each-other (note, most are fat as there isn’t much else to do except eat and fuck, and like Chris Rock says, after the fucking frenzy cools down, you just eat anyways, so don’t get married!). The two hot heads (who reminded me of two horny roosters fighting over a hen in heat) started pushing each-other and swinging at each-other and YELLING really loud while some guy was still trying to sing and suddenly one of them takes a bottle and SMASHES it right in the other hot heads FACE making him bleed ridiculous amounts of blood, which of course started a mini war in the bar amongst all the alcohol/testosterone loaded males. It was a loud blood bath and even a woman got beat (accidentally) hard.
The music stopped, everyone who was sane called the cops, but still the fight went on and on, and it even tried to spread to guys who were just sitting at the bar, seems like once a fight is on, it is like a tornado that wants to suck everyone into it. It was horrible. Almost everyone in there had blood on them, be it their face, body and or clothing. Nasty! The frizzy gum snapping Dj was busy packing her equipment away, using this as an excuse to stop early, she looked almost relieved. ( I suggested to the guy next to me to sing either “everybody was kung fu fighting” or “give peace a chance” but the bitchy poodle wasn’t going for it. I went outside after I saw 8 cop cars, an ambulance AND of course, in America no fight in complete without a GIANT fire truck. I didn’t understand what they were doing there, perhaps to hose down the hot heads? I think since 9/11 American firemen like to cash in on that “firemen are hero’s” thing and hope some hot babe notices them in their sexy uniforms, hence, increasing their chances to get some trim. I asked one of the cops outside (who ALSO had the same Sharon Stone shaped eyebrows, which leads me to believe, in Canton, there must be some smoking hot chick who runs a waxing salon and the guys just can’t seem to stay away from her and let her have her way with her hot wax). I asked him “do people still fight in bars?” he said “yes maam” and I said “that is SO 80’s” and then told him my car was blocked in by two cop cars and I GOTTA GO.
I left that huge mess, happy it wasn’t me for a change in the middle of it. At least I had some excitement tonight, as to say I get bored easily is a massive understatement. I will have to resort to eating Ben and Jerry’s again as there is no sex or chocolate around for me. Notice one year ago, in my August 2003 blog,I was also here in Wakefield, with the same shit going on. No sex, just ice cream! You can also shoot back to that time in my blog to see photos of Wakefield, it may be a tad dull, but it is one of the most beautiful towns around.
I was told recently there are many ghost around, which is just grand, me having mighty sleeping disorder(s)- I can now find many more reasons NOT to sleep. Great. “Oh, but they are FRIENDLY ghosts” nice one, but will they watch when I view my “adult” dvd later? FYI, the expect you to drive 55 miles per hour here on the highway.
As LAME as that song is, I have to quote Sammy: Gonna write me up for 125 Post my face wanted dead or alive Take my license, all that jive I can’t drive 55!
My Turtles; Sugar and Spice
This GORGEOUS creature above left is SPICE, she is from Greek decent 🙂 and my all time favorite animal. I got her in 1998. She is so peaceful and calm, so polite how she takes the leaves gently from your hand and she even comes to me (as quickly as she can) when I call her name!
She has huge eyes,which you can’t see, sadly, in these photos. The turtle tattoo I got on my ankle was drawn from a photo of Spice. (I am having it covered with a flower as no one can tell it is a turtle and I am tired of explaining it is Spice from a front view).
The second photo is Spice on the left and SUGAR on the right. I got Sugar a few months before Spice. No one can tell if Sugar is male or female yet! I think she is a girl, as she hisses and acts bitchy. She always looks grumpy and if she could say “talk to the hand” she would. Sugar is of Afganistan decent, the tiny little Arab!
I adore them SO MUCH. They are the ONLY things in the world that can calm me down. Watching them eat and walk around makes me relax. I wish I could have them with me all the time, but it wouldn’t be possible or fair. The breeder I bought them from , I call him, Mr. Turtle, watches them for me until I settle down. He lives in Berlin in a HUGE house and has a giant Turtle farm. He has over 70 turtles and does sell them, but he makes you sign papers and they cost A LOT. He is a BIG turlte fan and doesn’t just breed them to make money. He is a real estate broker and is rolling in dough, he just does the turtle thing as a hobby.
He has had some of his turtles for 35 years! They live to be over 100 years old so even if I pick my babies up in 5 years, it’s cool. I visit them most every time I go to Berlin and he sends me photos of them. They are an endangered animals so you can’t just drag them around with you from country to country. I miss my babies
I had another one, Pepper, who recently passed away. He was given to me a couple years ago, a Polish turtle. Mr. Turtle told me he died of HERPES! I was like “what? Did he have unsafe sex or what? How does a turtle get herpes!?” Apparently, it is a virus that strikes animals too, not through sex though and Pepper passed away. RIP Pepper 🙁
STING TIME in Connecticut (this time WITH photos)
My massage assistants are all smiles lately. I have sent them to massage Sting and sometimes to massages Eric Claptons band too. Getting paid to rub someone as handsome as Sting seems almost unfair. They are in disbelief. How can work be so dam fun?
Yesterday, I met up with Felicia (who is 5 years older than me but used to babysit me when I was 5 in Ellington) and my half sister Shannon (we found out in 1994 we have the same biological Father named Salvatore Giacomini- long story) in Vernon, CT and we all piled frantically into Felicia’s monster of a SUV (that means BIG gas guzzling jeep for those of you who aren’t from the US) and sped off to Mohegan Sun where Sting was awaiting my massage. Felicia was coming along with her table to rub down the rest of the band, who sometimes don’t get a massage cause Sting is bogarting the massage therapist.
Shannon came along, well, to look sweet and parade around in a white Dr. Dot T-shirt and have fun. This was her second concert in her life so far, first one being Tom Petty (nice choice!) a few years ago.
Privately, I am usually 30 minutes late. When it comes to business, I am on time. This time, I beat Sting to the venue. Due to heavy rain, his private plane had to circle around for an hour before landing! Must have been frustrating as he only flew from Manhattan to CT.
Anyhow, everyone was still in a great mood even though there was a delay. Sting and the band went directly to the stage to do the sound check. Us gals sat front and center for the sound check and it was mind blowing. For me, the sound check is always better than the show; you get to see the real stuff! William (scroll back a few days if you don’t know who William is by now) comes on stage during a song and puts Stings coffee down on a monitor for him. Kipper, the keyboardist does most of the singing during sound check, I assume it is to let Sting save his voice for the show. Kipper actually sounds like Sting when he sings anyways. He has produced Stings last two albums, the guy is multi talented.
Above: William on stage during sound check chatting with Dominic.That is Kipper at the right.
Dominic nodded and smiled when he saw me sitting there with the girls, then Sting saw me and gave me a friendly grin. My sister and Felicia were so ecstatic while all this was going on. When the music stopped, Dominic yelled, “Dot, I owe you money!” from the stage.
Let us remember this as the FIRST (and probably last) time a rock musician 1) Remembers he owes you money 2) Admits he owes you money 3) PAYS you the money he owes you without being hounded or threatened!
I actually could NOT believe my ears. What a sweet heart! I massaged him last week (as you read) and he was short $40 (hey, most rock stars don’t even carry cash on them at all) so he said he would pay me next time he saw me. A man who keeps his word. Nice one!
He jumped off the stage and came up to me with a $50 bill and just said, “Keep the change Dot.” He is so cool; wearing white leather Birkenstock open-toed sandals everywhere he goes. He is so relaxed and friendly. 
Above: Shannon and Felicia during sound check. At right, Sting during sound check.
The girls were glued to Rhani when they met him (Stings percussionist). They both find him erotic and sexy and cute and all that. I massaged Sting for almost 2 hours and at the same time Felicia was in another room massaging Dominic and Kipper, then the soundman, Jim.
Shannon was lured into the bands dressing room and was sipping $300 bottle champagne with them. She is so innocent and sweet (rated G version of me) and the lads were pleased to meet her.
Her eyes were so wide open and somehow like a deer caught in headlights the whole night, like “WOW! I am backstage at Sting and talking to Sting!” She didn’t talk much, just looked very happy. I introduced her to Sting after his massage and she was blushing her ass off. 
My sister Shannon, blushing with Sir Sting
I had things to do and left her there chatting with him, she was glowing all night and talking about how polite and friendly he is and “the accent” got to her. Most of the management and crew have British accents; it is heaven to hear the banter backstage.
While Felicia was still massaging, Shannon and I sat in our seats (8th row center from the stage) and watched Annie Lennox do her stuff. She ROCKED! Her voice is like an angel and she moves like a cat, she is confident, cool, unique, fucking AMAZING. You know me, attention span like a fruit fly who drank too much coffee, but I sat there with my mouth wide open and watched this woman show how it is supposed to be done.
I could write a whole blog about how impressed I was with her, but I will spare you. She is fit, strong and still gorgeous. He voice blows Mariah Carey off the map. After her one-hour show, I asked Sting to introduce me to her, so he did and he told her “Dot has been massaging me for years Annie, she is the best!” What an intro! Annie’s accent is SO charming (born in Aberdeen, Scotland). Amazing that you can’t hear any of her accent when she sings, but when she speaks, it is a heavy accent (I get Goosebumps listening to her talk).
I told her in every way possible (without sounding obsessed) how much I enjoyed her performance and that I hope to massage her soon. She told her assistant to take my number down, so cross your fingers for me will ya?
Annie and I ^
“There are two kinds of artists left: those who endorse Pepsi and those who simply won’t.”
-Annie Lennox
Sting, Rhani and Annie chat before show ^
Ok, prepare for one of the dumbest things ever said backstage. I was all aglow, near the part of the backstage where the band goes out onto the stage, observing the ritual they do before they walk out there, be it praying, shaking their hands in the air, holding hands or what have you.
Annie and Sting were chatting, all the back up singers were chatting, the band was ready to walk out there, as Sting and Annie do a song together and everyone was excited. Felicia walks up to me and I whispered, “Oh GOD, I just met Annie Lennox, I am so fucking excited, she is so amazing, look at her!” Felicia looks over and says to me “Hey, she looks just like the singer of the Eurythmics!” . The look I gave her was priceless. I said “Do NOT say that again, that IS her!” Fucking HELL! I thank you LORD that Annie, or anyone else, didn’t heard that blurt out of musical ignorance. Thank you LORD.
Sting and my massage assistant Felicia ^
But then again, Felicia shouldn’t know any of her music; she is a HARD CORE Bon Jovi fanatic. End of Story.
We then watched half of Stings show and said good-bye to William and were on our way before the traffic jam. The ladies were more than grateful and were bouncing off the walls on the way back to Vernon. I even got my pal Laurie an autographed Sting photo for her living room wall. It is so rewarding keeping the faith and lending a hand when it can make someone so happy.
Sting rips up the stage ^ My camera can not make such great photos from a distance.
Sting: “If I ever lose my faith in you” :
You could say I lost my faith in science and progress
You could say I lost my belief in the holy church
You could say I lost my sense of direction
You could say all of this and worse but
If I ever lose my faith in you
There’d be nothing left for me to do
Some would say I was a lost man in a lost world
You could say I lost my faith in the people on TV
You could say I’d lost my belief in our politicians
They all seemed like game show hosts to me
If I ever lose my faith in you
There’d be nothing left for me to do
I could be lost inside their lies without a trace
But every time I close my eyes I see your face
I never saw no miracle of science
That didn’t go from a blessing to a curse
I never saw no military solution
That didn’t always end up as something worse but
Let me say this first
If I ever lose my faith in you
There’d be nothing left for me to do
Dr.
Ask Dr. Dot: How to receive a Massage
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Dear Dr. Dot, Dear Frank, Don’t eat a big meal directly before the rub down. You will feel like you are laying on a rock and your belly will be making embarrassing noises if you do. Since it is your dime, you should wear whatever you want during the massage. Most therapists have seen it all and won’t be bothered either way. Boxers will hold down your stiffy if you get excited, but you can also hold “him” down by asking the therapist to give you extra towels to drape around your pelvis area (tell them you get cold easily). NOTE: Don’t mention your stiff if you get one. It is just one of those things that happens, breath deep and let it go. Remove all jewelry and your watch. Your hair will look like hell after, so if you have somewhere nice to go after, warn them to avoid your whole head. If you don’t have them do your scalp, it is worth looking like Don King afterwards. Don’t talk during your massage, unless you need to ask for more or less pressure or inform the therapist about an injury. Talking is counterproductive and makes the time fly very fast. It also distracts the therapist and you won’t get the best results if they have to keep chatting to you. If they won’t shut up, do find the courage to say “I would prefer to enjoy this massage in silence”. It is your time and money and you should speak up if something is bothering you (you want music, or silence; the room is too cold/hot). The squeaky wheel gets the oil.
Ok, time to explain the photos above. On the left, Johnny K. who looks EXACTLY like Marky Mark (Mark Wahlberg) me, and Jonesy. They are both from Boston and we met a couple weeks ago in Iggys (karaoke bar in NYC) and they were admiring my Led Zepp tunes and I was covered in serious goose bumps when Jonesy belted out “Me and Mrs. Jones“. Holy Shit he can sing. He had the girls all hot and sweaty, screaming and feeling faint. Amazing that tiny white cracker can sing like a big black man. And he performs the song, you know, gets into it, acting it out which is the whipped cream on the cake. Hate it when folks just stand there and sing, you gotta FEEL the song. Check out Jonesy’s web site . He does stand up comedy and in my opinion will make it BIG soon. He is a force heading towards the big screen- mark my words. Then the other photo is of my good pal Seth (was the singer of Mensch, now an actor) me and again, Jonesy. When these guys do karaoke, it is a spectacle; they take over the joint and can rap, rock and sing a love song that brings tears to the ladies eyes. It is not only raining men at that point, it’s raining talented men. I heard there is a big photo of Sting and I in the Hartford Courant today, I hope 7/11 has a copy left for me 🙁
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