Joan Rivers had balls and a razor sharp wit. She said what she wanted long before it was cool to be UN-PC, and shocked without trying to. Her work ethic was as legendary as her repartee, so its no surprise she went out kicking to the very end. A brave, strong woman, and one of the funniest comedians ever, her tenacity and genius prevailing even when the proverbial boy’s club of comedy was at its most intimidating. One of my all-time favorite broads! I shall miss and revere her always, and am so happy to see all the press she’s gotten.
Here’s the NYT obit. Not sure why Robert D. McFadden, a 30-yr veteran and political reporter wrote it, but I guess they wanted a jump start on the sad news. It starts with some flubby beauty metaphors that would’ve made Joan kvetch, but it gets better. Sometimes I think The Gray Lady has become The Gray Crone (and not in a good way), but that’s another matter.
Here’s Joan on the Ed Sullivan Show, 1967. Brilliant!! , and some of her best jokes:
I have no sex appeal. If my husband didn’t toss and turn, we’d never have had the kid.
People say that money is not the key to happiness, but I always figured if you have enough money, you can have a key made.
My best birth control now is just to leave the lights on.
I’ve had so much plastic surgery, when I die, they will donate my body to Tupperware.
My vagina is like Newark. Men know it’s there, but they don’t want to visit.
A man can sleep around, no questions asked. But if a woman makes 19 or 20 mistakes, she’s a tramp.
I hate housework. You make the beds, you do the dishes, and six months later, you have to start all over again.
My husband killed himself. And it was my fault. We were making love and I took the bag off my head.
When I was born, my mother asked the doctor, “Will she live?” He said, “Only if you take your foot off her throat.”
My earliest childhood memory was watching my parents loosen the wheels on my stroller.
My breasts are so low, now I can have a mammogram and a pedicure at the same time.
I was the only Jewish kid in a Catholic neighborhood. They all did Hail Marys, I did Hail Murrays.
I blame my mother for my poor sex life. All she told me was, “The man goes on top and the woman underneath.” For three years my husband and I slept in bunk beds.
Princess Diana and the Queen are driving down the lane when their car is forced off the road by masked thieves. “Out of the car and hand over your jewels.” After the thieves rob them and steal their car, Diana begins to put her earrings, necklace, and rings back on. “Wherever did you hide those,” demanded the Queen. “Where do you think?” asked Diana. “Pity Margaret wasn’t here,” said the Queen. “We could have saved the Bentley.”
I was so ugly that they sent my picture to Ripley’s Believe It or Not and he sent it back and said, “I don’t believe it.”
When the rabbi said, “Do you take this man,” 14 guys said, “She has.” My husband bought the horseback-riding story, thank God.
You want to get Cindy Crawford confused? Ask her to spell mom backwards.
I was so flat, I used to put Xs on my chest and write, “You are here.” I wore angora sweaters just so the guys would have something to pet.
I blame myself for David Gest. It was me who told Liza Minnelli to find herself a man who wouldn’t sleep with other women.
The whole Michael Jackson thing was my fault. I told him to date only 28-year-olds. Who knew he would find 20 of them?
I finally found out how priests get holy water. They boil the hell out of it.
And since we’re all adults here, let’s be brutally honest — most babies are not actually attractive. In fact, they’re weird and freakish-looking. A large percentage of them are squinty-eyed and bald and their faces are all mushed together, kind of like Renée Zellweger pushed up against a glass window.
I was dating a transvestite, and my mother said, “Marry him, you’ll double your wardrobe.”
Did you hear Tom Cruise just had a baby? He was there when it was born … He should have been there when it was conceived.
My sex life is so bad, my G-spot has been declared a historical landmark.
I knew I was an unwanted baby when I saw that my bath toys were a toaster and a radio.
I saw my first porno film recently. It was a Jewish porno film — one minute of sex and nine minutes of guilt.
Not all plastic surgeons are good. My cousin went to one and told him she wanted to turn back the hands of time. Now she has a face that could stop a clock.
Everybody talks about multiple orgasm. Multiple orgasm — I’m lucky if both sides of my toaster pop.
On the Vanna White diet, you only eat what you can spell.
I got a waterbed, but my husband stocked it with trout.
Want to know why women don’t blink during foreplay? Not enough time.
“You know I love you, Joan. Goodbye, through tears, Tiny Giant. Heaven just got meaner and way funnier.” PeeWee Herman