Right now there is a fucking awful Kidz Bop 14 commercial on TV. There are 13 previous Kidz Bop discs. People purchase them. Using money. Oh my god.
Speaking of the G.O.D. the gods of tail feather were mega raped on Tuesday. (dance reference)
Jeylan and I seem to be on the same page in terms of what makes for a satisfactory evening out on the town these days. Tequila works like a charm matter of fact, a charm that jingles with the sound of bootycall texting, uncontrolled voice volume, swearing, and crooked walk. I like how super drunk girls have so much trouble walking but dancing?? No prob. Got that on lock. All night. Back flips? Maybe. As long as there is slightly obscure 80s music on and an empty space, its smooooth sailin.
This is completely self indulgent, posting photos of girl twirl and modelface but I will never ever pretend that I am above these things. It is a right of passage, it is the only decade in our lives (20s ahem) where hot retarded trampy nights out are not pedo bait, nor are they lame Sex and the City - esque grow-up-you-old-hag type shit either. They are ALMOST excusable.
Disclaimer disclaimed.
Smiths. Were played. At LEAST. 4 times an hour.
And that is the appropriate flail.
White people hands up
MegaBeth heard the call. Even more familiar to the white dancer is the air guitar call (observe guy on right)
really.
No stop really.
i got nothin.
' except bench dancing. because that happens when you just stop giving a fuck about CouthLevel.
Turkish people are sort of white so they hear the hands up call, just not as blaringly loud.
Turks aren't white you honky!
this is pudding. The proof? Main ingredient.
MegaBeth and Jeylan french kissed my soul.
The couch I'm laying on smells a little bit like feet. Or maybe its just this blog. Smelling through the airwaves.
Here the thing about the Cos. Cosby Show? Good. Old comedy routines? Stellar.
the director of the photo shoot was like ok now try one of you looking as retarded as you can. hooooold it. we got it. we got the shot.
Everything else about him? Fucking. Awful. Barf to you Cos.
Is your voice real or am I just in an auditory nightmare? Because it kind of sounds like the worst thing to ever weasel into my ear. Are you one of those people who is always DOING a voice? Like you don't even remember what you really sound like because you have some weird obsession with putting on? Thats based in deep insecurities and lack of self awareness, which is super lame, grow up.
You're also a humongous sellout.
And did you really think this was the wave of the future?
Of course you did, cause you're the same guy who thought it lucrative and wise to sell jello and puddin pops. And don't ever make that jell-o face, that one expression with the pursed lips/head wiggle because it is irritating. If I ever meet you and you do that, I will definitely scream.
The problem with screaming around the Cos is that people might assume hes drugging and raping you even if he isn't. Because he is a molester. Duh. Didn't you read all the statements made by women he gave the puddin pop to? He also gave a few the Herp. Hmm, hi hypocrite, you WROTE A BOOK ON SUCCESSFUL MARRIAGES BUT YOU CHEAT ON CAMILLE INCESSANTLY. You self righteous bastard.
So how come you hate black folk so much Cos? Why did you invent Fat Albert? Was there any reason other than to diss the young black male? Nope prob not. I like how you go on news programs and visit colleges just to bitch and moan about poor black people who are stupid losers.
hi ornery. you look supes happs!
There is only one person who is more of a stupid loser than you and its the guy who designed all those fucking sweaters you wore thru the 80s.
Stupidest Loser title could also go to the pedophile/gerontophiliac kookoo bird who sculpted this bullshit.
All combined, your voice/face/sweaters/sexism/racism makes for a totally shitty person, sorry to tell you.
I'm also sorry somebody killed your son, but maybe thats why you turned into a total dickwiper. Wait or it could have been the realization that you were replaced in our culture with a much more lovable black dude, his name is Morgan Freeman. Yeah too bad about that.
If the Morgs ever shows up murdered, I think we can safely say who did it.
So I really want to do Fuck That Guy tonight but I can't because I don't feel angry at all just really wound up. My weekend consisted only of working so my ACTUAL weekend begins tomorrow afternoon yesssssssssss. Fuck That Guy will be so so good but I can't talk about it because then you will get excited then feel let down then hate me then I will have to slit my femoral artery (not my wrists because it takes too long and I would probably call 911 before I passed out and that would be a shit sack of medical bills for nothing)
So yeah, point of the last couple days is that I am having quarterlife crisis. Big fucking deal I'm turning 25 soonish. It has translated into a couple of very retarded behaviors. One. I am saving 5 dollar bills in a money clip. i cannot spend any 5 dollar bills that cross my hands. I have been doing this for a month and I have 170 dollars. OK I cheated and put a couple of 20s in, but fuck you I'm just trying to feel good about myself. "Saving for a rainy day!" Why don't people save for a sunny day when they need money to go out and buy 8 margaritas and rage out. Don't know. Logic is dead.
Why am I saving money? Just in case I want to stop playing teenager and have a savings account. Psht.
Two. The saving money thing is directly related to, but also independant of.... Fixing this apartment of mine. No it is not mine, i did not purchase it. Who do you think I am fucking Daddy Warbucks? That guy by the way looks like he smells like dog shit. When I see bald men I think of bad smells, specifically animal poop. I will tell you why. Because of the bald dad from Mallrats who gets doodoo on his hands from the whole Jason Lee chocolate pretzel prank. When I say pretzel in my mind I say it like pretzal and it makes me laugh so much internally. Sometimes when I pass food carts on the street and I see said product, I laugh out loud at my pronunciation and people think I'm a slow person. Slowbaby!
Wait so I was talking about fixing the apartment I do not now, nor will ever own. (Maybe I will who the fuck knows) Anyway it is a haggard den of sex and cat naps. And pizza eating. Etc. Etc. Looks how it sounds. But ps I have decided I am painting, getting new rugs, and getting new light fixtures. All before my birthday AHEM September the Fifth. How will I do this you ask? Oh. With all my time off. And with sheer willpower. And tears. And midget migrant workers. Who will be paid in french kisses and shots of well tequila. JKJKJKJKJK!
I want everything in here to go from resembling a log cabin to resembling a ship which (I have been told it feels like somehow) I begin here:
Yeah? No? I'm doing it anyway. So fuck off.
I also think I'm going to paint some wall and or doors and or floors in here purple. Though that has no connection to shippage, that is not the point. Its a feeling I'm shooting for. Jesus.
So basically I am about to spend all of those 5s I painstakingly put into the najavo eagle money clip this month. And no one even cares what my apartment looks like except for me.
This is becoming a very boring topic very quickly.
How about something else. I was talking to LA Jew Jash on video chat and we were taking SnapShats!!! of mustaches and boo!bs! and all kinds of fun things. I don;t like the time diff though because its always super bright in the room hes in and super dark in mine. But the darkness in my room is totally permanent, my walls might as well seep sounds of The Cure. Frooooowwwwwwn. (thats how I like it I'm not even sad so keep your faggy judgements to collective selves) Selves = elves = Lord of the Rings = best movies ever = did you notice that hobbits eat all the time and they have a meal called ELEVENSIES aka eating at 11 am between breakfast and lunch.
I want to start taking breaks at work called elevensies!
I was talking about Jash.
Googer Tooth comparing
Pink Glitter Dildo invasions
Who cares not interesting except with my eyeliner moo-sta-shiehhhh (saying it like that is better) makes me look exactly like the purple pie man of porcupine peak
if you don't know you really better ax somebady
Jash makes me laugh the end. He does this thing where he comes into the camera view from the side like hes climbing a mountain. Great.
I have to go back to watching Six Feet Under Season 2 and having a total love hate relationship with the fact that I wish i lived in that show. Not really but really. Totes Freals.
I want to send a shout out to tequila. Hey tequila! You're a jerk!
So. I was in Jersey at a spa Thursday then had a few panic attacks for no reason. I got a massage, had an awesome lunch, went swimming, walked on the beach... (all courtesy of my awesome mom) How is any of that not fantastic? I'll tell you.
Resting makes me fucking nuts, thats the problem. I mostly panicked on the ferry on the way back into the city because I could see the buildings on the horizon and had the worst case of acute separation anxiety ever. I hate leaving home. Its becoming a problem for me because I really want to travel, its just that when I do, I feel like my heart may very well explode. All I see in my mind is my apartment and my block and the F train and my corner store and my bedroom window. and my cats and my friends. It sounds like I am in love. I am. Totally. Just not with a person. With a life.
It felt awesome to get in a cab and say "just take south street down then a left on Market" Then I could sort of breathe again. I showered and got dressed in about 6 minutes because I am supes low maints. Met Liv and Hiyme and Erman for some margaritas at their "spot." L and H are apparently the kind of couple now who has a "spot." Our waiter gave us some tequila shots and I should have seen impending doom at that very moment, but I didn't. Oh hindsight, you ballbusting shitfucker.
TBones came and met us and nearly got run over by a car. She wanted us to go to a place on Ludlow where there were free pina coladas. That is the grossest stupidest thing I've ever heard, but thats ok.
I saw this sticker in the bathroom
I also think it was at that bar where I was outside smoking with Erman and saw the best think ever. An old jailbird looking garbage man. Doing push ups in the middle of the street. While the other two garbage men took care of all the actual trash. He was really souped up when I took a picture of him I think it probably gave him a boner
Then I chatted with the gem of a gal who owns the bar and she is a winner. She gave me some free booze, more tequila thanks very much, and we chatted about how awesome it is that people actually open bars and restaurants and don't immediately fail. There is basically endless competition in that arena in the city, I have no idea how people do it. Maybe I should ask the guy I work for. But I think if I did, he would say something completely vague like, "you just gotta get your SHIT right THATS what you do. and you have to be the fucking BOSS" He would say this, not looking at me, texting 83 people on his iphone at once. Awesome.
Speaking of iphones, I am getting one in 6 days. I feel like the world must be coming to an end because I never thought I would go there. I feel like I have joined the evil team in junior high gym class. The one who takes softball really serious and yells at you for not trying hard enough and asks you if you even know what a shortstop is supposed to do. No I don't know and I don't care and I hate you. How do these people relate to iphone people? I just feel like I don't belong, thats what I'm saying. I feel like an outsider and all the iphoners will be like ugh retard, she doesn't even have her calendar uploaded or use her blah blah widget. I'll use simple widgets only thank you very much and typing the world widget makes me Pim (puke in mouth)
I think I was talking about last night and tequila. So I drank some. We left the bar on Ludlow and went to the fish for some retarded reason. Every time i go there I end up arguing with some little skate rat fuckyface and threatening to kick his ass for talking shit. Last night I didn't yell at anyone though, I think I just got drunker and then disappeared. I've been doing that a lot lately, just walking out of places, and a friend will catch me out the corner of their eye and be like, "where the fuck do you think you're going?" Then I say something thats a lie like "I'll be right back" and take a cab home. I also usually don't remember why it is I left. Last night was one of those. You know you're in trouble when you find yourself by Crown Chicken buying 25 cent toys from the machine and mingling with the dealers in front of the deli. They are also like 14 years old but at least they're congenial. I've decided its a good idea for me to omit all activity taking place between midnight and 5 am on my blog because to be honest, they are none of your god damn business. Don't be naive.
Anyway I had some phone drama, I had some friend drama, (mainly that I'm a bad one) I had some cat drama (they have been dragging chicken out of the garbage those savages) and I had some sleep drama. Meaning I had trouble sleeping.
Part of the reason I couldn't sleep was because I fucked up and my little Yolac was meant to stay over and I left her hanging by accident.
Hey I'm sorry I suck. Thats a cute picture. Did I say I was sorry? Because I am.
And tomorrow is work for me instead of a lovely little vaca in St James. I am very sad I can't go. I wanted to swim in a pool and lay on Sam and eat Olivias salads and do cartwheels and complain about things to Hiyme. I wanted to tell jokes to Denise and become super friends with Erman. But noooooooo. Its ok I need money. It looks like I have taken on the new life role of Lady Moneybags because I am basically wiping my booty with 20 dollar bills.
By the way, I'm caught up to all the women of the universe by finally having watched the Sex and the City movie. Hey, is it June? No its August. Sorry I take awhile. I still have not seen the Dark Knight. I know. I KNOW.
Anyway, I thought it was rad because I have a vagine. I seriously cried like a baby when Carrie comes running out of the car, and Big gets out of his car, and he's just left her at the alter (HELLLLLLO EVERY WOMANS NIGHTMARE) cause hes too scared to man up and get his marrying on... And you think maybe he will say sorry and she will let him say he didn't mean to do it to her, but NO. She bugs out and starts beating the living shit out of him with flowers and then Miranda and Charlotte come running over and everyone is crying and its just WHEEEEW! Ugh I was totally overwhelmed.
The look on that horse face of hers is truly heartbreaking. What a horror. If anyone ever does that to me I think I will actually just die on the spot.
But truthies, the saddest part for me was not seeing Richard Wrights sexy old man ass. I wish Samantha had stayed with him so I could drool over his leering dirtbag creepiness. I want to stick my tongue between his gap teef. Remember when he was in Warriors!?
Fuck that guy is back on schedule! Hooray! Keep the hoorays on lock because the guy we are fucking this week is totally accustomed to being applauded. He is totally not an asshole at all. Hes way too ugly to be an asshole. Ugly guys tend to be bit nicer generally speaking. That explains nothing because its bullshit. Most ugly dudes I know are bitter fuckfaces with mother issues and angsty rejection hang ups. So I lied. Great. I'm a liar.
Anyway. Fuck you Michael Phelps.
Fuck that. This week should be fuck Phelps teeth. His mouth makes me literally sick. Dude. Your parents raised you to become one of the greatest athletes of our time. How many thousands of dollars went into your little swimmy fish hobby? Why the fuck could they not shell out a measly 3 grand for some orthodontics?? Ew. God. Thinking about kissing the black hole that is the gaping mouth of Phelps makes me imagine kissing a humpback whale. Coincidence they are both excellent swimmers? Nope.
OK fine. MP is a perfectly fit male specimen. But I hate that! Beer guts? Hot. Slight man ass? Hot. Quasi cut arm muscles that don't exactly impress ladies but are a half assed attempt of a "weight lifting" habit? Duh.
It's funny when dudes DON'T work out, but like twice a month they use the free weights in someones basement and feel like HeMan. That is right up my dirty stinking alley.
I really don't want anything to do with the Adonises of the world. So you work out. So you never wheeze. So you don't smoke cigarettes or drink 14 beers in one night. So you don't cry when someone kicks you in the ankle bone. Fuck off!
You think you're better than me? You're not. You're just a slave Phelps, a slave to the system. If this was ancient Greece, you would be reaming 15 year old sporty boys and teaching them how to read in Latin and how to get their "stroke" just right. What I'm trying to say is. You're totally gay.
Speaking of gay, what is the gayelle deal with your sisters?
Your parents were totally nuts and also genius to toss all three of you right into the pool. Maybe they hoped you would drown! Just kidding! You're awesome! That's why I hate you so much.
Hey, remember the other night when I was watching you win 8 gold medals? Oh yeah. Cause NBC did a little piece on you. Saying how you're 6'3 but your WINGSPAN is 6'7.... OK yeah that was great. Then they said your heart pumps twice as much blood as everyone elses. Why don't we all just go find some broken fence stakes... Say a prayer to you, god Phelps... And plunge ourselves onto the wooden shards? It would be like all of US are Vlad the Impaler. Me might as well take it there because, hey, what are you if you're not breaking world records every hour? Nothing. That's what.
This FTG is super violent and I'll tell you why. Because that's precisely what sports do to people. Sports make people all wound up and retarded like their heads are stuffed with illegal firecrackers from the outskirts of Ocala, Florida.
Hey werewolf. Why don't you just go on TRL and flirt with Vanessa Manilla Folders and show everyone your gross body? You already did that? Fantastic I wish I had it on tape. When I say tape I mean full on VHS. I still do that shit because I'm afraid of the passage of time. I could probably blame that fear on you Phelps. Everything is your fault. All of the stupid redneck Americana loving shitbrains running around gloating are thanks to you. "Yeeeeewhoooo! Ameeeericuh!!! Fuuuuck youuuuuu Chinamen! Fuuuuck youuuu Russia! Fuuuuuuuck you France!"
Fuck Michael Phelps because he is just another undeserved feather in the hat of the already fat lazy bastardly nation of the U S of A. Someone call Susan Powter so we can stop the insanity
1) Paul Newman is dying and James Dean is dead. That is in my opinion the greatest tragedy to hit the universe of foxiness. Only watch the following screen test if you have already masturbated at least twice today.
2) I realize how fucked up it is to follow the dream team up there with this bear daddy monstrosity, but I think... Once upon a time... Ron Jeremy wasn't that hideous. I like leather jackets. Sue me. Eh?
3) Remember when Madonna came to New York and was a prostitute? What a dollbaby I've never been one for breasty women, but she looks great!
4) If I were a horse this is what I would look like: Dusty Rose gallops in disheveled and untamed. Don't ever try to tell that horse whats what.
5) This behavior is only appropriate when staying on the 40th floor or higher What should we all mentally bounce off of Stephanie's foxy ass? Anything. Speaking of things that can do anything...
6) Will it blend? Tom Dickson really gets me ready to roll. He is not a fox, but science itself is foxy. As is unnecessary destruction.
Don't breathe this.
*99% of all credit for hilarious youtube video findings goes to the ever retarded Simon Semen Sperms. Who is himself, a fox. An old creepy fox.
7) For fox calls. The gentle pings of the mbira. Everything from Africa is foxy. Except malaria and genocide.
8) Mimes are never foxes. Get eaten by a fox as a matter of fact. Marcel Marceau you are the least attractive creation the lord could ever have conceived.
A) During the 6 hours of record organization this week I found a couple of covers I basically want tattooed on my face.
B) The only thing sexier than those covers (strategically photographed on Mr Ps white shag rug) is the following French Pop Tart music video.
This song is like a caramel apple only its not an apple is a very soft booty and the caramel glows with the light of lust and disco glitter dust. Madleen Kane could whisper her way out of a routine execution.
This is going to hurt me infinitely more than it hurts him.
Fuck George Clooney.
And fuck his happy Oscar accepting moment.
George, you fucking salt and pepper haired perfect toothed basketball playing charming charmer joke telling bastard. Where the fuck do you get off giving women hope? You are probably the biggest asshole in the universe. Why do you even exist? To hurt our collective feelings?
You happen to be visually perfect, not to mention obviously funny, smart and talented. Oh wait, you're also ABSURDLY rich and fun loving. I forgot, you also had a pot bellied pig as a pet for like 15 years and you are probably an ace in the bedrooooooooom. Interesting how you REFUSE to get hitched. Or procreate. Why?
Because you simply exist to remind women that all great men really don't give a shit about us anyway.
You would much rather spend your free time shooting the shit with Brad Pitt in your fucking Italian palace, smoking highly illegal cigars and tanning your godlike torsos.
Actually I think I know why I hate you. You're an Irish boy from Kentucky. Yet. You are one of the most liberal actors in Hollywood. I think the tetonic plates split open creating an alternate universe where people like you happen without God peeing in his pants. A LIBERAL. IRISH BOY. From KENTUCKY. What?? I hate you so much that my heart hurts and I want you to rip it out of my chest, examine it with your ER skills, and put it back for me.
Sometimes I google you, and I get a little stomachache because I realize there is only one of you, and we are never going to get to make out. Then I want to get your cell phone number, call you up, and tell you you're a fucking asshole for dating an obviously retarded Vegas waitress who probably loves cocaine more than she loves her own mother and masturbates to her reflection whispering, "yes yes you ARE the future Mrs Clooney"
No bitch, you're not. He broke up with you despite the fact that your body is rad and you were probably tons of fun. NONE of us will ever be Mrs Clooney because this has all been a joke on us.
Oh, here you are with your ex Renee. Hm, you're still pals. Just so you know, when you pet her hair like that, her insides rip apart and she aches with the memory of your touch and wants to kill herself for somehow losing her grip on you. So great job on that.
No matter how many motorcycle rides he takes you on, no matter how many martinis he buys you, no matter how many nights you spend in his snuggly gigantic bed in Lake Cuomo enjoying the smell of George Darling wafting over the nice breeze coming in off the veranda.... You will never get him. I will never get him.
George Clooney will never walk into my apartment in this suit, wiggling his tie back and forth to loosen it up. Right after i typed that, the things in my mind I thought about doing to him are completely innapropriate, even for me. So I don't really want to talk about this bullshit any further.
Fuck you George Clooney. Because not fucking you...isn't something I can bear to think about.
Fuck that guy will return this evening with an excellent subject. It was going to be Kanye West, but I'll tell you, its not. If you want to know why, watch the video.
It is very impressive to me. And I really don't have it in me to say fuck Kayne after this:
If you did not grow up in New Jersey watching public access television this may not amuse you even remotely. But when I watch it I feel like a wee one again sitting on the floor. My dad loved this show.
This is a later episode from '91 but I kind of adore the drummer from The Vestrymen. He hardly moves. At all. This is the most relaxed grunge group to have ever existed.
Twas an interesting and colorful weekend. "Weekend" equaled Tuesday night til today. Tomorrow it all ends, back to the grind, happily, so happily.
I am pretty sure there is a new version of the rave in New York. I am also pretty sure I went to them for the last two nights.
Thursday was Williamsburg Warehouse, no one has any idea what that is including me. It is a warehouse. In Williamsburg. Where I THOUGHT we would be dancing our actual asses off, which no one was really. When you walk in and look up, you see the largest ceiling fan in the history of civilized man. I could also include uncivilized man because I doubt those dirt hags had gigantic electrical cooling devices. Stephanie was scared of the fan. Denise and I were not. What is the point of sharing that information?
Some tripped out projection on the back wall
Anyway the open bar was impressive meaning Denise and I got fairly shit housed. We sat upstairs for hours in some makeshift VIP area where the dj booth was. There was a pretty amazing couch. There were a lot of douchy guys as well. A few were mildly attractive but sadly below the level of masculinity a girl like me would generally require. Fuck you, you look like a lonely oil painter.
I decided to play Frankie, recently divorced 28 year old with tons of spunk! So basically I was myself with a failed marriage and a different name. NBD. Denise stuck with her alter ego Sara, and Stephanie decided to be a no-nonsense lesbian. Good choice.
The room was red if you can't tell. I like how Stephanie took it to the limit with the "don't step to me" face.
Tough nasty had to go home early, shes been a walking tummyache for at least a week. It makes me sad and I say little baby prayers sometimes so she will get better soon. Dear God. Please take away sweet Sterpie's belly grumble. Don't be a prick. Just kidding! I love you. Your friend, Krissy. xoxo.
Somehow hours later, after peeing outside and smoking too many cigarettes, Denise and I were ready to move on. We went to Union Pool (whyyyyy? I do not KNOW.) But first I had to get a turkey sandwich which was fucking delectable. It was also 3 dollars! Go Brooklyn.
We saw Naomi who has returned from road tripping and also Fan, which is so weird because I would never envision her at a super white guy bar.
this was the best part of going there. sign on the ice cream truck in the backyard.
I ate my sandwich alone like a recluse and basically went home after that without saying goodbye. That is how you know you are very drunk. You see your friends 5 feet away. And you slink out the place like a dirty little miscreant. When I say that in my mind I picture my head on Golloms body. With long blonde hair and shiny lip gloss. Oh my god Halloween inspiration. Actually no I can't because I've been planning to dress as Popeye for like 2 years.
I yam what I yam.
I woke up yesterday a little bummed about my drunk dial from the cab, which is becoming all too predictable with one person in particular. Some people you really can't help drunk dialing because they let you get away with way too much shit from the start. So I think mostly I call/text this person A) to get a reaction and B) because for some reason I assume he will forgive me and not judge me for being a stupid lush. I suppose that is a hidden compliment to him, I am full of those. Its so secretive without names I love it, its like a game. Only one where I will definitely lose because I'm sitting here blogging about it. I am so self depricating about the fact that I have a blog. Shame Shame!
Anyway. yesterday.
I went out to see my mum for a few hours which was really nice and I took Lucy because I am dog sitting her until Sunday night. I will be honest, she is making me a little crazy because when I want to lay in bed and she doesn't, she makes this weird dog talk sound in her throat and I want to tell her to shut up but she doesn't speak English so we are just not communicating. Even if she had the correct voicebox, she would probably speak Spanish anyway, and I am not confident that I have a the full conversational skills to really chat with her. I'm no slouch, but I also would not label myself as fluent. We took the ferry which Lucy has done before a number of times but I doubt she remembers it because her brain is the size of a peanut.
I feel like I am just talking for the sake of talking because I am biding my time until I break down and order pizza. Thats all I am thinking about, honestly. Pizza and soda. And now Ninjas. Ok the ninjas are gone, just pizza and soda. And also a little bit of horse. Not to eat, to look at. I just really love horses.
So yeah it was nice to see my mum and my brother, came back here to the city to get ready to get to see a show at Irving Plaza.
Also, my most Jewish friend called me just as I was about to get into the shower to tell me he was stopping by. Goes like this, "Hey Kris Im commin ovah" "Wait 20 minutes I was just about to shower, why do you always call when I am about to get naked?" "You are always about to get naked"
This is a very true statement. So B comes over and acts amazingly weird, makes little to no sense, and gets sexually assaulted by Lucy.
She was very attracted to his moose knuckle.
Then we ate tuna sandwiches, and B let me know he was bummed he forgot about the show that night which I was so luckily attending. He also let me know I am looking especially youthful and fresh lately. Which is true I am. The secret is this:
I am not the kind of girl whos like "ooooohhhh prooooooduct!" I actually hate the WORD product as well as the idea that anything can make you look more beautiful just by applying a miniscule amount to your face. I'm not going to get all into it, but this shit really seriously is a tiny miracle.
What show did I go to? You want to know I can smell it.
Disco came back from the decaying dead. Somehow it does not smell like total shit either.
Jiwon has a friend in the band she grew up with in Hawaii, which is just another example of how crazy New York City is. They both end up here, one on stage, the other in the audience dancing and sweating. The crowd at the venue was super geigh. How geigh? I saw a cross dressing man who looked exactly, to a tee, like Sheneneh Jenkins.
How is their not a better picture of such a cultural icon? Its like not being able to find a decent picture of Marilyn Monroe.
Basically, the drinks were overpriced, I got into two fights (one with a total homobitch, one with an old beard who should have been at home resting her tired feet), I spilled vodka all over myself, I was surrounded by the smell of expensive cologne and armpits, and my eardrums nearly blew it. It was, in short, fantastique. Jiji and I danced and felt the tooootal vibes of the gaaaaaaaalaxy and watched balloons float around, and reveled in the presence of at least 4 very serious Voguers. The horn section could probably elicit a riot if taken to the streets. The transvestite lead singer Nomi is a fucking HOT BITCH if I ever saw one. She has made some decent music previously solo but I love her with this band. She has a great wig and somehow managed a costume change and shakes her fake boobs like nobodys business. Look see.
Don't need drugs when theres a disco ball.
Strangely, you can not tell from those pictures that this was the most energetic show ever.
Not from last night, from Studio B, but you should watch it if you care to see how great they are
Jiji was wearing these amazing shorts that were originally full on black leather Hammer jammies.
But she hemmed them up short and she looked pretty dreamy if you ask me. What a fashion plate.
I really like Jiwon because she laughs at my jokes all the time and she is a spiritual little thing. We ate some Japanese food around 1 am which was delish and I hoped the asshole Long Island kids at the table next to us would get arrested for being drunk in public or get their cars impounded or something. I DID NOT really like them
I took too many cabs this week. And I can no longer hold off on the glory of pizza. The end.
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