The November 5th blog entree I did called “Whole Lotta Pictures” has been altered. Apparently, one of Jasmine’s most influential ‘friends’ teased her about her school picture being on there and well, when you are Jasmine’s age, friends opinions rule. I didn’t like my 10th grade school portrait much, the only good thing about it was the cool Stones pin on my white jacket. I had tweezed my brows Mae West thin and had an irritated look on my face (probably because I am not a morning person, even back then).
When Jasmine demanded I remove her picture from the blog, I refused at first. That blog took me 3 hours, and I found it rather sweet, cute indeed. She then threatened to get a lawyer to sue me if I don’t remove it and/or hire a hacker to break in and destroy my blog. I then had an idea, I said, “if you promise to never smoke cig’s again, I will remove it”. She said she can’t do that. So I said, then I can’t remove the picture. We are both super stubborn. After days of thinking about it and having certain bitchy relatives tell me it is her right to have it removed, I thought, well, there is no fucking point making a sweet/cute blog to show how gorgeous and cute Jasmine is, if she hates me for it now is there? So, there you go, photo deleted.
Blog city was down for couple days and I was not in the mood to blog while under the threat of being sued by my own daughter. Somehow the mood to blog just wasn’t there. I was walking around in a daze, thinking too deep (but hey, still singing when I got the chance to blow off steam). I have chaos going on all over the place as usual. I will soon get rid of my flat in Berlin and just find a tiny room to rent, a place to crash when I go to Berlin to see Jasmine. No need to have an expensive as HELL flat there when I only go every fourth month. If she wasn’t there, I doubt I would ever go there again. I would beg my good pals to come visit me. The place depresses the hell out of me, it seems it is 99.9% Homo-sexual now and that means paradise for the guys and hell for the hetro ladies (just ask Andrea or any other gal pals of mine). Chivalry? Not in Berlin. It doesn’t even exist in the German dictionary (they DON’T have a word for it!).
Since my last real blog, I have started making and selling my very own massage oils/cream. More on that stuff later. I also tested and hired a new assistant named Maggie. She brought her best pal Katie with her for the test and not only did she give me a kick ass massage but all three of us got along great, they are into rock and have the ‘don’t take no shit’ attitude’ that I adore. Maggie runs a famous shop with her guy called FILTH MART. Even Jay-Z mentions it his song ‘I just wanna luv ya’ he goes: “take off your Filth mart Jeans” . Many stars get their vintage jeans and rock t-shirts there, and that is how we met. Remember when I was banished to Berlin in October? And how Jasmine and Benjamin (her father/my ex) had the bright idea to go to NYC while I was in Berlin to visit Jasmine-yeah, you remember now.
(Get to the freakin’ point Dot) WELL, Jasmine’s pal Rachel told her about this cool shop (Filth Mart) that buys vintage rock t-shirts for $100 a pop. Jasmine usually wears my vintage Stones shirts as pajamas (I do too) so she had two of them with her. She brought them to the shop and sure enough, she got $200 cash. KA-CHING. One shirt was actually one of my favorites, from the European 1982 Stones tour, but what the hell, you can’t take them with you when you go, know what I mean? So she had some spending $$ in NYC. She told them about her Rockin’ Mom who has tons of them and the owner said he definitely wants to meet me and have a look at the shirts. I went there last weekend and sold 6 more vintage shirts and met Maggie. She said she has done massage most of her life and her guy attested to the fact, that she gives an AWESOME massage. Since they are moving very soon, we thought the best idea is to get the Dr. Dot test over and done with, to see what she’s got.
She passed the test with flying colors and we got on so well, two nights later, we all went out for some, yah, you guessed, KARAOKE. Jonesy and my pal Mike and his gal and a cute couple they know all came along as well. Jonesy was in awe of the fact both maggie and Katie are about 6 feet tall. He came up to their uh, breasts basically. Hey, he isn’t the tallest bloke, but he is charming, cute, funny and can sing his little Bostonian ass off.
Above: Katie, Maggie, Me Katie singing Pat Benetar’s Hit me with your best shot
< Katie Jonesy and Maggie
Mike and his lovely Berliner Woman~I”m bad with names 
Mike’s pals Max and his lovely gal Megan
Katie is awesome at karaoke. She TORE up that Pat Benetar song at the first karaoke place we went to and she told me when she first walked in, I was singing “Piece of my heart” by Janis and she went “DOH! That’s my song dammit!!”. So, when we got to the next place, she did that song and did a dam good job at it, I have to say, we are neck and neck at that song. WOW! Maggie, however, has never tried karaoke until this night! Katie convinced her to sing a song with her. They sang ZZ Top’s “Thank you”. It is a rockin’ number and holy shit, the place went crazy when these two chicks got up there. They were dancing and singing like pro’s and Maggie did NOT look shy, no stage fright for her, she was shaking her ass/hips/head like she has been a rock star for 10 years already. Jaws dropped, to say the least.
Max’s girl (above with brown hair and glasses, had never even witnessed karaoke until this night). I hope she gets hooked and turns in to a KARAOKE WHORE like myself. No, this doesn’t mean I am a whore, it means I am a karaoke whore. I found this web site that sells karaoke crap and they even have T-SHIRTS that say Karaoke WHORE on them. (click on the word WHORE to view shirt). Try it, you’ll like it, it’s intoxicating, addicting, challengnig and fun beyond belief. I am just NOT into Asian karaoke, I can’t stand hearing people sing karaoke in Japanese or Korean, etc. It hurts my ears 
I was driving the other night (Jonesy in passenger seat) on our way to a karaoke place on 85th and 2nd ave and I thought I was getting pulled over by the Police Van because I was speeding, but turns out, it was because my right head light was out. Funny thing is, I have two bumper stickers ( I am sure I mentioned this to you before) but one says “Ass, Gas or Grass, no one rides for free” and one of Home Simpson showing his ass and pointing to it, as in, Kiss my ass. Well, the Police Van was parked RIGHT behind us with their giant spot lights shining on my car. two cops got out and both had flash lights, they were flashing them in my back seat, then the front and in our eyes etc. I rolled down the window and I asked what the problem was, while Jonesy remained cool and kept flipping through my karaoke cd case as if nothing was going on. He asked me “Who’s the Doctor?” I was like “I am why?” he aimed his flash light into my back seat onto my stethoscope, that lie there on the back seat since Halloween 
He then asked me which Hospital I work at, I said I only treat private patients. Then he demanded my license and registration and that is when I coyly pulled out my PBA card, which is a card and badge that shows you are friends with someone high up on the police force. He asked me my friends name, I told him, they took everything into their van and came back 5 minutes later and told us to have my light fixed and to have a good night. So, a PBA card basically saves your ASS.
Joy, Jonesy and I decided to venture out to the Burbs for a night of karaoke. We drove about 20 minutes to get to Wayne, NJ to a bar called the Grasshopper. We thought it would be cool to sing in a new place, check out the small towns, you know. Well, it reminded us why we love the city so much. It is SMOKEY as hell there. 
Some of the people there recognized me as Dr. Dot from my column in Steppin’ Out which was sweet, that means someone is actually reading it. The wait is SUPER long to sing there and everyone seemed to be in a click, the kind that doesn’t take to kindly to strangers. So we sang once each and ripped that joint. Across the street, the center of ALL suburb towns in the usa, was a Dunkin’ Doughnuts, full of young folks with nothing to do, cause there is NOTHING to do. One guy said he parks there in the parking lot all the time and to make it comfortable, he has a chair in the back of his pick up truck 
I totally feel for bored people in the burbs. I get bored in the burbs and never fit in, I moved every freakin’ year, sometimes twice, so suburban people don’t accept new folks into their fucking clicks so easily, which is why I went to so many concerts. Until you are 21, there is not much to do in the burbs but eat, fuck, work, sleep, work out, drink alcohol secretly in someone’s car or the woods and oh, not to forget, the all so popular hangin’ at the MALL. I have to be near the city now, NYC to be more accurate. It has the pulse I love. People are sarcastic, but funny. Ambitious and impatient (just like me) and there is always something to do 24/7. You have the feeling, in this city, everyone voted for KERRY. The suburbs of America must have voted for Bush. I still haven’t even met ONE person who voted for that idiot. Where are these assholes? Not here.
Ok, I’m getting snotty again, time for bed (5:40am)
Here is Frank Zappa’s song “when the lie’s so big”
Just who do they really
Suppose that they are?
And how did they manage to travel as far
As they seem to have come?
Were we really that dumb?
People, wake up
Figure it out
Religious fanatics
Around and about
The Court House, The State House,
The Congress, The White House
Criminal saints
With a “Heavenly Mission” —
A nation enraptured
By pure superstition
When the lie’s so big
And the fog gets so thick
And the facts disappear
The Republican Trick
Can be played out again
People, please tell me when
We’ll be rid of these men!