Never Ask A Dyslexic For Directions

 I have lived in NYC for all of my life, but I still get lost and end up having to ask people for directions. As a dyslexic, you can never be afraid to look like a tourist, even in your own city. Sadly one summer my friend from the South, had remembered how to get back to my sister's apartment when I could not. I have come to realize I don't know if my lack of direction skills comes from being dyslexic or a trait I have inherited from my mother's family..The Simons. My uncle who isn't dyslexic, but claims he has Adult ADD, had once forgotten how to get back to my house in Long Island. My uncle would have probably kept driving around in circles, if it wasn't for my dad spotting him on his way home and helping him find his way. My mother is not only dyslexic, but also a Simon, which should explain why she had once driven to New Jersey instead of to our upper east side apartment when she was coming from Soho. Since I am a clone of my mother, it doesn't come across as bizarre that a blind women gave me directions on a Boston T map. To make myself feel better, I think she wasn't fully blind because she new exactly where the stop was on the map. Maybe she was just trying to be blind for a day, but whatever her intentions were it made me realize sometimes I just have to laugh at my life. But, If the seeing eye dog gave me directions then i could go home and feel sorry for myself.

I Did Not Need To Go To Hebrew School To Know Jews Should Not Be Dyslexic...Have You Read The Haggadah?

Receiving claps after reading my part in the haggadah has become as old as Passover itself. This year I not only read with confidence, but did some of my best mumbling.  Before posting I always skim over my writing and instead of reading mumble, as a normal person would, I read it as mumba.  After sitting for five minutes and wondering why mumba kept coming to my mind, it hit me.....  "One, Two, Three, Four, Five everybody in the hometown, hometown, home lets ride, to the Rickey shore....." At this point in the post, you're agreeing with the connection of the Mumble and Mumba, but questioning if those are really the lyrics to the song? The way I wrote that was my version of the song for the past 10 years. These are the real lyrics, "One, two, three, four, five everybody in the car, so come on Let's ride to the liquor store..." If anyone ever questions my dyslexia, instead of showing them my documents I should compare my version of the song to the real lyrics. For the amount of years I have been singing the Mumba song wrong, I have also been resisting the wrong pray in lighting the Menorah. My version, Ba-ruch A-tah Ado-nai E-lo-he-nu Me-lech ha-olam a-sher (My Text) To a not to Witch-a Stand One Name Under God To liberty and Justice For All. -I knight you with the ability to laugh now.  Back to the Jew dinner. I call it the Jew dinner because for a long time I couldn't pronounce any of the Jewish Holidays. Instead of trying to memorize them I just renamed a thousand year old tradition. Names of Holidays, friends and lovers have always been a struggle for me. I could never say Christian, so I would just ask people if they Christmas or Hanukkah. Remembering my friends names were also difficult, even if I was friends with them for months, I would ask them what their nickname was and hope it would be similar to their actually names. Renaming my lovers name has always been the best part of being dyslexic. Some of the names I have come up with have been, Appointment boy, BL, Re-Re, and there are some nicknames that I will not post because they are too inappropriate. My roommate told me I need to be honest to my fans, and to be like Chelsea Handler. I told her I'll be as honest and open above my life once I have had five successful books and have my own talk show.  

The Three Second Hold Up Is Good For Horny Men And Dyslexics

I am a very gullible person, but I don't know if it's because of my innocent appearance or my dyslexia. The answer, dyslexia, but to make myself feel better I would like to say it's a combination of the two. My teacher today was trying to make a joke by saying, "what is that Bollywood movie that has a lot of singing and dancing In it?" Like usual, I didn’t get the joke so I was going to say, "Oh I know which one your talking about, but I can’t think of it either." Before you question if I am even dyslexic  or just plan stupid, I like to say my teacher said it in a  very serious and questionable tone.
            At the age of 20 and having had criticized over a hundred people in my life, I have learned the lesson to wait at least 3 seconds before making any comments. The 3 second hold up isn't just good for dyslexics, but could help any horny guy at a bar. Men at there...if you see a hot girl at a bar, and you do the 3 second hold up, you might then question if you really want to approach her. I understand your horny, but do you want that surprise of a waking up to a ding dong instead of a coochie coochie in the AM?...I don't think so. 

I have come to the conclusion that a dyslexic only has two choices in life. Either to become famous or become a criminal.

Have you ever been in a conversation where a famous person is brought up, but you can't put that formula name with a face. Yet you continue to nod your head and laugh, but think who the fuck are they talking about?  In class we were talking about Annie Leibovitz.  Since I am dyslexic, which means I am horrible with names, even my friends, I didn't know who the fuck Annie Leibovitz was or even how to pronounce it. The first person that came to my mind was Annie, but then I thought no no not everything is related to my consistent character look-alike reference. My Second thought was is Lubwitch  a Jewish name, because as most of us know or maybe I am just making another quick statement, there are a lot of Jews in Hollywood right? Then I thought I might as well use the thousands of dollars my parents spend on tutors and sound the bitch out. How did I sound it out...Lub, which referenced to lube, and witch like I am going to witchta your ass. The great thing about being dyslexic is I have the ability to make as many improper sentences as possible. It’s like almost getting away with death. I wonder if anyone has ever pleated dyslexia as a mental challenge.
 Dear Judge,
I killed Boobie, I mean Bobby because he fun made about my dyslexic, please forgive me.
From,
rellik laires 
P.S, I did spell that word backwards, all on my own. 

If I Could Only Say One Sentence In My Life It Would Be...How Do You Spell This Word?

When I have trouble pronouncing certain words, I have this amazing ability of sounding like I am either speaking French, Korean or Pig Latin. Recently I have been trying to pronounce a certain word, which I don't even know if it’s an actually word or not, but it starts with a B and well...that’s all the clues I have so far. When I pronounce this mysterious word it almost sounds like I am trying to say Bonjour, but the word I am thinking about is another word for over the top. Although I am dyslexic, I'm capable of knowing Bonjour, means hello in French. Unlike my mother, who walked in a store in Paris and said, Hola, in her heavy Long Island Jewish accent. Please forgive her, she is a part of the dyslexic cult. Don't worry she wouldn't mind me posting about her dyslexia because everyday she tells me "Tori, you stand up in front of the room and say 'I am Dyslexic and I am proud.'"
 You know those people who start to sing a song and then forget the rest of the lyrics so they mumble the tone of the song under their breath? But, when I, sing a song and forget the rest of the lyrics, instead of just mumbling under my breath, I continuing singing in the same tempo, but in a Korean Pop Star voice that you would probably hear in the game Dance Dance Revolution. 

The one person I can always count on to understand my dyslexic/gibberish pronunciation is my sister. Sister, Sister, never knew how much I needed her, until I went to college and didn't have a spell-spell-spell, check-er. If the lyrics don't match the tempo of the original Sister, Sister theme song please forgive me. I mean there are bigger problems in my post that you can be critical towards. My sister and I would be the perfect contestants for the password game. We have been training since the day I was born. All the time she had to help me remember my middle name was Elaine, E, like Elephant.  I used to think my middle name was Malorie, which was actually her middle name. There isn't another person out there who I could call up and ask, What are those dark, creepy characters that were in the movie Hunchback of Notre-Dame and she would responded in a simple tone, you mean gargoyles. I feel like if my sister knew the moment her child would come  whom that it was going to be dyslexic, she would probably say, "Oh hell no, I ain't dealing with this again.", while shoving it up back in her hoot. For those of you who know my sister, she would never actually say those lines because one, she is the nicest person and two this sentences is so improper that she might throw up from it. 

Discussing Brits, Jews and Southern Folks In One Blog Post Can Only Be Done By A Dyslexic

One question...Why are the British noses so adorable and overly just perfect? My obsession with noses steams from my Jewish background. Let’s face it, the Jew nose isn’t the most attractive thing in the room. It might be the first thing we stare at, but in the similar stare you've given someone who had a giant pimple on their forehead. You want to tell them to just pop that bitch, but you realize how insensitive you would sound. Also like a Jew nose, there isn’t much you can do. This isn’t a cleft palate situation, their no charities for the Jew noses, just daddy's bank account. Don't worry, I am aware I'm sounding extremely mean, but one last comment about my people.....(WARNING THIS WILL SOUND ANTISEMITIC, BUT IT'S OKAY BECAUSE I AM A JEW). Do you ever notice those girls at parties who from the back would seem attractive, from their sledder bodies and American Apparel black skirts, but then they turn around and they've got the Jewish gargoyle look going on? You know where the eyes are droopy looking and their noses are weirdly shaped? Since I believe so strongly in karma I should probably stop making fun of Jewish people and go back to what I do best, making fun of Dyslexics. 

I don’t know if it was the British accent, my dyslexia or thinking everyone is similar to me and likes to make sexual comments, but when an fifty-year old British man, at a storytelling show said the sentences, “He must of been”, I put those four words together, and in my mind it sounded like the word masterbate. After I thought the man said masterbate, two thoughts came to my mind; why didn’t anyone laugh and the Brits even sound so sophisticated when they use crude words. In London, one of the subway stops was called cockfoster and well... you don't have to be dyslexic to imagine why that sounds funny. It sounds even better if you say it in a very serious British accent.....COCKFOSTER. Now wouldn't you say that is funnier then laughing at someone who is eating alone? 

Since my topics for this blog post are random and all over the place, much in the same way as I speak, I might as well post about my habit of putting on a fake southern accent during camp and yelling to people, "Come on guys, pass me the ball, I can't read." When I look back on my character choice, I most say I am pretty impressed with my knowledge on the South. I am not saying people in the South can't read well (here I go again, making rash comments that I will later regret) what I am trying to articulate is that it's easy to imagine the typical redneck, one tooth, trailer park character not being able to read well. After I make comments, I always get the same questionable look of, "How weird can you be to come up with that comment." You know what I say to those people, their are more sicker people out their who have more disgusting minds then me. At least I am not thinking about wanting to tie someone up, light them on fire and throw them in a river! I just happen to say the wrong words like prescriptions instead of descriptions and bandos instead of bandannas....When it all comes down to it I am just a normal dyslexic girl living in the real world, just trying to get by. (For those of you who watched Told By Ginger, that was a lyric from the seal girl song.) 

Not knowing what ash wednesday means, isn’t a dyslexic thing, it’s a jew thing

For a long period of time, which still includes today, I had no idea what ash wednesday meant. In high school there was this one factuality member, who year after year, on that very special Wednesday would always rock the dust on her forehead. I always wanted to say girl, you got something on your forehead, let me wipe it off.  I also thought she was trying to cover up this massive mole on her forehead. I am not exaggerating when I say massive, it took up half her forehead. Poor girl, god didn’t even bless her with a symmetrical mole. It was oddly shaped and looked like what kindergartners would draw as a moon. At first I thought ash Wednesday meant taking  your dead relatives ashes and sticking them on your forehead. I thought it was some type of reincarnation that Christina made up in the BC era. This theory came about after I had just seen the first Harry Potter movie. I was at the part where Voldemort had trapped himself in Professor Quirinus Quirrell body. I didn’t think J.K Rowling was that creative. I thought she had to have gotten this trapping soles idea from somewhere. As you can see I have no what ash wednesday stands for, but i am thinking it has to do with forgiving ones sins. My theory is that it’s only okay to walk around with dirty on your face in return for god to forgive you for all your sins, which includes the times you peed on the street, bit your toenails instead of using the clippers and the most sinful of sins wishing you could just pop that bitch of a pimple on the person’s face standing in front of you on the subway. Now that you know my sins, It would make me feel better if my three followers, which includes me, would tell me their sins.