When watching such thought-provoking television as MTV's Laguna Beach, you can't help but ponder the philosophical quandry- Am I a Kristen or a Lauren?
Or worse, am I a Jessica?
The show is so fucking engrossing that I find myself talking about the pack of spoiled blonde bitches as if they were my group of friends. Pathetic? Completely. Especially since I'm a 26 year old (gasp!) faggot who's social life really should have moved on from high school dramatics.
But it hasn't. So get into it.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Monday, September 12, 2005
Bush: Race Had No Part in Recovery Efforts
"The storm didn't discriminate and neither will the recovery effort," Mr. Bush told reporters at a news conference after touring parts of New Orleans in the back of a military truck. "The rescue efforts were comprehensive. The recovery will be comprehensive."
Ha! Let me know when your comprehensive recovery efforts are going to start, Bush. I'm sure the good people of New Orleans can wait on your schedule.
And you can say all you want about race not playing an issue, but its abudundantly clear that class certainly did, because the government had no plan on how to evacuate those citizens whom depend on public transportation.
I'e totally fallen in love with Anderson Cooper. There's a great article about him in the NYT in which they label him the "anti-anchorperson" for wearing his heart on his sleeve during his coverage. He's cried twice on the air, and angrily questioned Senator Mary L. Landrieu's, Democrat of Louisiana choice to thank on-air federal officials for their response to the devastation.
"Excuse me, Senator, I'm sorry for interrupting. I haven't heard that, because, for the last four days, I've been seeing dead bodies in the streets here in Mississippi. And to listen to politicians thanking each other and complimenting each other, you know, I got to tell you, there are a lot of people here who are very upset, and very angry, and very frustrated.
"And when they hear politicians slap - you know, thanking one another, it just, you know, it kind of cuts them the wrong way right now, because literally there was a body on the streets of this town yesterday being eaten by rats because this woman had been laying in the street for 48 hours."
Ha! Let me know when your comprehensive recovery efforts are going to start, Bush. I'm sure the good people of New Orleans can wait on your schedule.
And you can say all you want about race not playing an issue, but its abudundantly clear that class certainly did, because the government had no plan on how to evacuate those citizens whom depend on public transportation.
I'e totally fallen in love with Anderson Cooper. There's a great article about him in the NYT in which they label him the "anti-anchorperson" for wearing his heart on his sleeve during his coverage. He's cried twice on the air, and angrily questioned Senator Mary L. Landrieu's, Democrat of Louisiana choice to thank on-air federal officials for their response to the devastation.
"Excuse me, Senator, I'm sorry for interrupting. I haven't heard that, because, for the last four days, I've been seeing dead bodies in the streets here in Mississippi. And to listen to politicians thanking each other and complimenting each other, you know, I got to tell you, there are a lot of people here who are very upset, and very angry, and very frustrated.
"And when they hear politicians slap - you know, thanking one another, it just, you know, it kind of cuts them the wrong way right now, because literally there was a body on the streets of this town yesterday being eaten by rats because this woman had been laying in the street for 48 hours."
Thursday, September 08, 2005
To be an American
I can honestly say that I am embarrased to be called an American.
Hurricane Katrina showed how little our federal government cares for the social welfare of our poorest citizens.
Why it took our President three days to show up in New Orleans is beyond me. THat Condi Rice was out shopping on Fifth Avenue buying Ferragamo shoes the day after the hurricane disgusts me.
Look, Condi, you may be Secretary of State, but as an elected official of the highest level, you are expected to act in an appropiate and responsible manner. That means no vacay with shopping sprees and Broadway shows while a horrific natural disaster destroyed the lives of thousands. That's just fucking retarded, you dumb Republican piece of trash.
I like how Bush is now heading a special committee to investigate "what went wrong" with how our goverment reacted.
I'll save you the time, Bush.
What went wrong? It was the fact that those affected were poor black folk. The next time a hurricane hits, we'll make sure it affects only rich white constituents, and I'm sure your ass will cut your vacation short to get to the ravaged city.
Last night Gov. Schwarzenegger released a statement informing the residents of CA that he will veto the CA Legislature's Gay Rights Bill. To that I say fuck you. I defended you before, Arnold, but no more.
I'm likely to continue ranting like this for some time now. I'm truly disgusted by how our nation's leadership seems to care less about civil rights and social welfare than it does securing access to oil.
Hurricane Katrina showed how little our federal government cares for the social welfare of our poorest citizens.
Why it took our President three days to show up in New Orleans is beyond me. THat Condi Rice was out shopping on Fifth Avenue buying Ferragamo shoes the day after the hurricane disgusts me.
Look, Condi, you may be Secretary of State, but as an elected official of the highest level, you are expected to act in an appropiate and responsible manner. That means no vacay with shopping sprees and Broadway shows while a horrific natural disaster destroyed the lives of thousands. That's just fucking retarded, you dumb Republican piece of trash.
I like how Bush is now heading a special committee to investigate "what went wrong" with how our goverment reacted.
I'll save you the time, Bush.
What went wrong? It was the fact that those affected were poor black folk. The next time a hurricane hits, we'll make sure it affects only rich white constituents, and I'm sure your ass will cut your vacation short to get to the ravaged city.
Last night Gov. Schwarzenegger released a statement informing the residents of CA that he will veto the CA Legislature's Gay Rights Bill. To that I say fuck you. I defended you before, Arnold, but no more.
I'm likely to continue ranting like this for some time now. I'm truly disgusted by how our nation's leadership seems to care less about civil rights and social welfare than it does securing access to oil.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Reality Check
I'm not in Vegas. No, I'm at my office in downtown LA nursing a bad stomach flu that I got from the EX.
Fucking bitch. I curse anyone who gives me the shits...except that the EX is still the sweetest piece of man candy in the world. Grrrr...As much as I would LOVE to HATE him, I can't!
So this past weekend was spent with me lying on the couch moaning, passing gas, and watching Laguna Beach reruns. How very UN-GLAM! SEE HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN?! I've become Anna Nicole pre-TrimSpa. I used to be thin, gorgeous, and in demand.
Altho I felt like complete ASS, I let myself get dragged out to I-Candy in WeHo. That's the bar being featured on that cheesey ass reality show on Bravo with the buff muscle queen with the overly plucked eyebrows crying about how he came out late in life because being gay in LA is so hard. YAWN.
Go watch some hurricane coverage bitch, get off your cross, and realize how lucky you are that youre a rich white man living in California. You may suck dick, but at least you're not starving. Actually far from it. Cry me a river, faggot.
Btw, looking at that hurricane coverage, it makes you realize one important lesson: When the government says to evacuate an area, you do it. Apparantly about 50,000 peole chose to ignore the evacutation notice and ended up realized they made a big mistake once the water filled their houses. That's fucking scary shit there people. I'm including the victims of the hurricane in my prayers.
And now back to my shallow life:
Last night I had to say good-bye to Kirk, my geeky animator, who's off to Italy and New York for two months to work on a series of coffee commercials. Am I sad? Ehhh...uhh... not really.
I told him to have fun, fuck hot D & G models, and to get tan.
And as of Thursday, I finally have health insurance. HEALTH BENEFITS, WHATS UP!??!
One of the few perks of having a boring fucking job.
Fucking bitch. I curse anyone who gives me the shits...except that the EX is still the sweetest piece of man candy in the world. Grrrr...As much as I would LOVE to HATE him, I can't!
So this past weekend was spent with me lying on the couch moaning, passing gas, and watching Laguna Beach reruns. How very UN-GLAM! SEE HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN?! I've become Anna Nicole pre-TrimSpa. I used to be thin, gorgeous, and in demand.
Altho I felt like complete ASS, I let myself get dragged out to I-Candy in WeHo. That's the bar being featured on that cheesey ass reality show on Bravo with the buff muscle queen with the overly plucked eyebrows crying about how he came out late in life because being gay in LA is so hard. YAWN.
Go watch some hurricane coverage bitch, get off your cross, and realize how lucky you are that youre a rich white man living in California. You may suck dick, but at least you're not starving. Actually far from it. Cry me a river, faggot.
Btw, looking at that hurricane coverage, it makes you realize one important lesson: When the government says to evacuate an area, you do it. Apparantly about 50,000 peole chose to ignore the evacutation notice and ended up realized they made a big mistake once the water filled their houses. That's fucking scary shit there people. I'm including the victims of the hurricane in my prayers.
And now back to my shallow life:
Last night I had to say good-bye to Kirk, my geeky animator, who's off to Italy and New York for two months to work on a series of coffee commercials. Am I sad? Ehhh...uhh... not really.
I told him to have fun, fuck hot D & G models, and to get tan.
And as of Thursday, I finally have health insurance. HEALTH BENEFITS, WHATS UP!??!
One of the few perks of having a boring fucking job.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Chow Chow
So it occured to me while working out last night that many of you have no real feeling for who the important people are in my life.
So here, for you, is the start of a series of handy reference guides using current pop culture fixtures.
Chow Chow, one of my most favorite people in the world, is very much one-half of the Skeletwins (TM Pink is the New Blog) meets John Cho from Harold and Kumar go to White Castle with alot of Patsy from AbFab. And a big heap of Janice Dickinson.
He spends more money on clothes a month than most people spend on rent, and he's a vicious she-bitch with sharp claws and a razor wit. I'd say he's part Naomi Campbell but everyone wants to be Naomi, including myself. Namoi is without a doubt the world's preminent Supermodel. No one else comes close to working the attitude that really defines the spirit of SUPERMODEL realness than Ms. Campbell. Go slap the help, sweetie, and do a kilo of coke off of your Louis Vutton luggage while touring Africa on some Goodwill Ambassador tour. While giving face. That's nerve.
I called him last night as he was out partying with our mutual friend Carly who's sexual orientation is harder to pin down than a greased pig at a Weight Watchers convention.
In mid-conversation, he began yelling at some car, "Take your ugly Jetta elsewhere, Jersey bitch!
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
What Happens in Vegas...
im being sent to vegas for work this weekend for the biggest fashion-buying event in the country.
MAGIC.
Bring it.
Alto I must say Vegas is disgusting. It's full of hick trash wearing oversized tees and ugly khaki shorts.
And there are NOO hot gay men there..its sort of a wasteland for the fags.
So am I excited about going? Eh.
I'll probably kill some anorexic blond bitch...or make tons of best friends.
Anyone know of a hot slutty gay stripper with tons of club and drug hook-ups?
MAGIC.
Bring it.
Alto I must say Vegas is disgusting. It's full of hick trash wearing oversized tees and ugly khaki shorts.
And there are NOO hot gay men there..its sort of a wasteland for the fags.
So am I excited about going? Eh.
I'll probably kill some anorexic blond bitch...or make tons of best friends.
Anyone know of a hot slutty gay stripper with tons of club and drug hook-ups?
The Best Week Ever
So last week was an incredible week for me.
My best friend Owen came out from Chicago to hang out with me for four days. He goes to medical school at Northwestern and he'll hopefully become a plastic surgeon someday and suck all the fat out of my ass when I'm 50 and look like Jabba the Hut.
At Stanford, we were the crazy druggie stoner bitches who thought we were so cool because we would cook K in the dorm kitchens, but honestly hanging out with him has always been more adventure and comraderie than just getting high.
Together we're like the Hardy Boys of the Circuit.
In his company though I've done some of the most rash and ridiculous things...he seems to be a catalyst for impulsive behavior.
One time during gay pride, I was drunk...natch...and while waiting in line to get into the END UP in SF (the most cracked out place on God's green earth...PERIOD), I met this FOBBY asian guy who barely spoke a word of English but was saavy enough to flash me his vial full of K. I did what any self-respecting crack head would do and proceeded to make out with the little rice paddy while swiping his K and handing it to Owen.
Karma bit fast becasue the both of us entered K holes and had to jump into the nearest cab...only to wake up on my bathroom floor the next day with a pool of drool around my head.
But this past trip was different. I had to work that weekend, and most of our time was spent catching up and working out. He's grown up to be a gorgeous man... but is refreshingly more concerned with life than looks. All in all...even though this reunion lacked black trannies, k holes, and a big party, it was nice to hang out with the man who's become my brother.
But the next time...it's on, bitches. I'm talking about Black Party/Alegria/Junior marathon, and I'm taking the House of Aviance with me... I want runway on K with a thousand buff daddies surrounding me while Abel spins. Work.
On Friday I arrived in Ptown and hung out with the EX and his friends. It was of course messy. And emotional... but completely worth it. because im criminally insane.
I could spend the rest of my life in his arms. He's coming out to visit next month and I can only hope that things become easier for us.
I love him so much that there are times I hate him. Loving someone complicates things, especially when the two people in love are control-freaks.
Well that's the update for now...
I'm going to Barry's Bootcamp sometime this week. An intense bootcamp work-out in which you do cardio for half an hour followed by free-weights. Some hot trainer I met at Crunch last night talked me into it. Supposedly they used to give t-shirts away to people who threw up, but they were giving away too many t-shirts, so now when you puke, you just get to take a break. It's totally the sick sadist shit I love.
My best friend Owen came out from Chicago to hang out with me for four days. He goes to medical school at Northwestern and he'll hopefully become a plastic surgeon someday and suck all the fat out of my ass when I'm 50 and look like Jabba the Hut.
At Stanford, we were the crazy druggie stoner bitches who thought we were so cool because we would cook K in the dorm kitchens, but honestly hanging out with him has always been more adventure and comraderie than just getting high.
Together we're like the Hardy Boys of the Circuit.
In his company though I've done some of the most rash and ridiculous things...he seems to be a catalyst for impulsive behavior.
One time during gay pride, I was drunk...natch...and while waiting in line to get into the END UP in SF (the most cracked out place on God's green earth...PERIOD), I met this FOBBY asian guy who barely spoke a word of English but was saavy enough to flash me his vial full of K. I did what any self-respecting crack head would do and proceeded to make out with the little rice paddy while swiping his K and handing it to Owen.
Karma bit fast becasue the both of us entered K holes and had to jump into the nearest cab...only to wake up on my bathroom floor the next day with a pool of drool around my head.
But this past trip was different. I had to work that weekend, and most of our time was spent catching up and working out. He's grown up to be a gorgeous man... but is refreshingly more concerned with life than looks. All in all...even though this reunion lacked black trannies, k holes, and a big party, it was nice to hang out with the man who's become my brother.
But the next time...it's on, bitches. I'm talking about Black Party/Alegria/Junior marathon, and I'm taking the House of Aviance with me... I want runway on K with a thousand buff daddies surrounding me while Abel spins. Work.
On Friday I arrived in Ptown and hung out with the EX and his friends. It was of course messy. And emotional... but completely worth it. because im criminally insane.
I could spend the rest of my life in his arms. He's coming out to visit next month and I can only hope that things become easier for us.
I love him so much that there are times I hate him. Loving someone complicates things, especially when the two people in love are control-freaks.
Well that's the update for now...
I'm going to Barry's Bootcamp sometime this week. An intense bootcamp work-out in which you do cardio for half an hour followed by free-weights. Some hot trainer I met at Crunch last night talked me into it. Supposedly they used to give t-shirts away to people who threw up, but they were giving away too many t-shirts, so now when you puke, you just get to take a break. It's totally the sick sadist shit I love.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Reporting from Ptown
I took the red-eye Thursday and got into Provincetown early Friday morning. In all, I got less than 3 hours of sleep, was wired on a gallon of coffee, and lost my toiletrie bag, but the four days have been worth it.
Ptown is a small paradise, and spending time with my ex has been a gift.
I'll write more on my time here when I return to LA.
Ptown is a small paradise, and spending time with my ex has been a gift.
I'll write more on my time here when I return to LA.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
What?!
A friend...I won't say who sent me this text this afternoon:
Our friends dog just ate our used condom. What do I do? I am so embarrased but afraid hes' going to vomit it up and there'll be a condom on the floor. Aaah!
Our friends dog just ate our used condom. What do I do? I am so embarrased but afraid hes' going to vomit it up and there'll be a condom on the floor. Aaah!
Woody Allen on LA
I don't wanna live in a city where the only cultural advantage is that you can make a right turn on a red light.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Listing
Soooo much has happened and Im so busy at work I cant really write it down:
1) Went to birthday party for friend's personal trainer on Friday. Everyone there had a SICK ripped body. I felt skinny fat so I turned to patron gimlets. I kept wondering.. where the fuck do you find the time to work out so much? Oh yeah, that's your fucking job. The party was at Fiesta Cantina, which I realized is the high-school cafeteria for West Hollywood gays. We sat at a big table out in front...and at one point this salty gaysian friend of Kirks asks him, "Why are you sitting with all of the plastics? They're all porn stars and personal trainers."
And its then I realize those are the heros and idols of the shallow gays... and Im as shallow as a kiddie pool for midgets.
Just kidding..I'm not, but I did allow the body facism at the table to dazzle me and to make me feel bad about myself at the same time. After a couple drinks though, I was all about groping feels and hanging with Kirk.
2) I saw Carrie at the Hollywood Forever Cemetary with Kirk. So much fun. Tons of young 20 somethings packed the big lawn in front of the mauseloeum and drank their concoctions and ate their picnics. Kirk brought New York Style Deli sandwiches and cookies from Stolichnaya Bakery.
3) Met a really cute dressing-room guy at Club Monaco. But its hard for me to figure out whether or not I think he's cute because he's actually cute or because I'm a sick flirt and I like to make out with dressing-room guys.
4) I hate being poor. In trying to dress well for a job that's involved with fashion...how do you pull off a cohesive look without going broke? Shoplifting? That would be tragic. Look at Winona, she's never really recovered.
5) Michelle took advantage of Sephora's return policy which is the best in the nation. While working for her former PR agency, she got a BUTTLOAD of expensive facial products, didnt use any of them, and took them into Sephora claiming she got them at the one in SoHo New York.
She got herself a 300 credit. Now how do I convince her to get me some Strivectin-D?!
6) Jake's in town. He's still so hot it makes my head spin. He got asked to enter a stripping contest last night. Its only when you're with a really hot guy that you realize that you're not super fucking hot yourselfbecause the world all seems to fall all over itself to talk to Jake. If I wasn't fucking him, I'd hate him.
7) Work's really busy so I'll be quiet again for the next several days.
XOXOXO
1) Went to birthday party for friend's personal trainer on Friday. Everyone there had a SICK ripped body. I felt skinny fat so I turned to patron gimlets. I kept wondering.. where the fuck do you find the time to work out so much? Oh yeah, that's your fucking job. The party was at Fiesta Cantina, which I realized is the high-school cafeteria for West Hollywood gays. We sat at a big table out in front...and at one point this salty gaysian friend of Kirks asks him, "Why are you sitting with all of the plastics? They're all porn stars and personal trainers."
And its then I realize those are the heros and idols of the shallow gays... and Im as shallow as a kiddie pool for midgets.
Just kidding..I'm not, but I did allow the body facism at the table to dazzle me and to make me feel bad about myself at the same time. After a couple drinks though, I was all about groping feels and hanging with Kirk.
2) I saw Carrie at the Hollywood Forever Cemetary with Kirk. So much fun. Tons of young 20 somethings packed the big lawn in front of the mauseloeum and drank their concoctions and ate their picnics. Kirk brought New York Style Deli sandwiches and cookies from Stolichnaya Bakery.
3) Met a really cute dressing-room guy at Club Monaco. But its hard for me to figure out whether or not I think he's cute because he's actually cute or because I'm a sick flirt and I like to make out with dressing-room guys.
4) I hate being poor. In trying to dress well for a job that's involved with fashion...how do you pull off a cohesive look without going broke? Shoplifting? That would be tragic. Look at Winona, she's never really recovered.
5) Michelle took advantage of Sephora's return policy which is the best in the nation. While working for her former PR agency, she got a BUTTLOAD of expensive facial products, didnt use any of them, and took them into Sephora claiming she got them at the one in SoHo New York.
She got herself a 300 credit. Now how do I convince her to get me some Strivectin-D?!
6) Jake's in town. He's still so hot it makes my head spin. He got asked to enter a stripping contest last night. Its only when you're with a really hot guy that you realize that you're not super fucking hot yourselfbecause the world all seems to fall all over itself to talk to Jake. If I wasn't fucking him, I'd hate him.
7) Work's really busy so I'll be quiet again for the next several days.
XOXOXO
Friday, July 29, 2005
Spank Me Daddy
So last night Michelle and I met up with my old friend Johnny at the Gauntlet.
Johnny is an insane nut.
He went to Berkeley and befriended this jewess who went to high school with a jewess in my dorm.
So of course the two gals tried to set us up even though we're so not each other's type.
We may have sucked each other off, but thats about it. He's like a sister to me now, but I only get to see him like once every year since he goes to law school in Ohio.
As I approached the seedy leather bar, he was waiting outside, his thin 6'2 frame leaning against the blue stuccoed wall. (blue stucco, ewww..)
He was holding a water bottle filled with jack and diet since he's still a lush even if he is broke.
He perked up upon seeing me, rushed over to me and without hesitation said,
"Oh my god, Astro, I met some guy off of Craigslist, and he came over and jizzed all over my ear. Can you get HIV from that?! My ear totally hurts!"
And he was being dead serious.
Anyways, I had forgotten that you can't bring a girl to a leather bar. Michelle screeched upon entering, the big burly men turned and glared at me for bringing vadge into their lair of testosterone, and John kept asking me about his cum-laced ear.
Of course I fell in love with the bartender and several of the patrons. I think I'm destined to become a bear. That or I'm just really tired of the skinny primadonna queens that frequent West Hollywood. I want a man with muscles, a bit of fat, and a little edge and not Lindsay Lohan. (Lin-Lo)
I suggested we hit Akbar, where we hung out for a hot minute. But I was tired, and wanted to go home to shop online for a cardigan and cashmere v-neck sweater. (I want Gucci, but Michelle keeps trying to get me to buy Polo Raph Lauren Purple Label. I'm a skank, not a prepster)
My best friend Chow called me a couple nights back about an attempted mugging that occured to him in the Lower East Side.
Fortunately, the cops apprehended the street rat and Chow is 100% fine.
Makes you want to carry mace and a big stick. And a security guard with an even bigger stick.
Tonight I'm going to my friend's party for his personal trainer's birthday. Oh yes, kids, that's LA for you.
Johnny is an insane nut.
He went to Berkeley and befriended this jewess who went to high school with a jewess in my dorm.
So of course the two gals tried to set us up even though we're so not each other's type.
We may have sucked each other off, but thats about it. He's like a sister to me now, but I only get to see him like once every year since he goes to law school in Ohio.
As I approached the seedy leather bar, he was waiting outside, his thin 6'2 frame leaning against the blue stuccoed wall. (blue stucco, ewww..)
He was holding a water bottle filled with jack and diet since he's still a lush even if he is broke.
He perked up upon seeing me, rushed over to me and without hesitation said,
"Oh my god, Astro, I met some guy off of Craigslist, and he came over and jizzed all over my ear. Can you get HIV from that?! My ear totally hurts!"
And he was being dead serious.
Anyways, I had forgotten that you can't bring a girl to a leather bar. Michelle screeched upon entering, the big burly men turned and glared at me for bringing vadge into their lair of testosterone, and John kept asking me about his cum-laced ear.
Of course I fell in love with the bartender and several of the patrons. I think I'm destined to become a bear. That or I'm just really tired of the skinny primadonna queens that frequent West Hollywood. I want a man with muscles, a bit of fat, and a little edge and not Lindsay Lohan. (Lin-Lo)
I suggested we hit Akbar, where we hung out for a hot minute. But I was tired, and wanted to go home to shop online for a cardigan and cashmere v-neck sweater. (I want Gucci, but Michelle keeps trying to get me to buy Polo Raph Lauren Purple Label. I'm a skank, not a prepster)
My best friend Chow called me a couple nights back about an attempted mugging that occured to him in the Lower East Side.
Fortunately, the cops apprehended the street rat and Chow is 100% fine.
Makes you want to carry mace and a big stick. And a security guard with an even bigger stick.
Tonight I'm going to my friend's party for his personal trainer's birthday. Oh yes, kids, that's LA for you.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Fixed that link on the previous entry
sorry bout that..
Tonight im going to that Wet Underwear Contest at the Gauntlet II. Their website displays the tagline "Upholding the Masculine/Leather/Fetish/Uniform Ethic."
HA! Whatever!
The queens there are probably two drinks away from doing runway.
Tonight im going to that Wet Underwear Contest at the Gauntlet II. Their website displays the tagline "Upholding the Masculine/Leather/Fetish/Uniform Ethic."
HA! Whatever!
The queens there are probably two drinks away from doing runway.
Reading on...
My friend/fag hag Michelle sent me a link to this guy's weblog. Yet another sister fighting the good battle against crystal meth
Tina makes you crazy, kiddies...and it makes you look like Karen Carpenter with bad skin. 'Nuff said.
Tina makes you crazy, kiddies...and it makes you look like Karen Carpenter with bad skin. 'Nuff said.
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Being Courted
Its funny how things rarely go the way you think they'll go...
I totally thought Kirk was waaay too nice for me. He doesn't drink even though he was never an alocoholic, he rarey goes out, and likes to stay in and read instead of bar hopping. HELLO, I'm a crazy lush/bar slut, what the hell do I have in common with this guy?!?!?
But he's been courting me pretty steadily these past few weeks, and my resolve for us not to work is weakening...
the motherfucker bought me Harry Potter AND has already done the one thing that will guarantee a tug on my heart strings: he surprised me with a pint of Ben and Jerry's. The fat girl inside of me already loves him.
I still don't know if I want a boyfriend, because in examing my track record this past year, I've repeatedly developed big crushes on guys who were emotionally unavailable, complete drug addicts, or big himbos. In other words, I've dated
men who I knew I could never really fall for...or become really vulnerable to.
All the while lamenting my state as a singleton.
Have I met quality guys in that time? Yes.
And Kirk's one of them, but I STILL have whiplash from that little incident I like to call Chernobyl:The Break-Up Summer 04.
I don't know what I'm looking for...some miracle-worker blind date who'll trust immediately upon first contact? Or some built-hottie with a heart of gold who works with mentally-handicapped children? Because even if I did meet the perfect guy, I doubt I'd be ready or willing to give it a go.
But I'm trying.. just gotta breathe and not be too neurotic about it all.
My hottie tottie boy from SF is coming down this upcoming weekend...so let's see if I can focus on one guy for than a week. Speaking of...Jake sent me the photo of the Golden Gate from Baker Beach. Jesus, I forgot how beautiful SF actually is...it wasnt until I was in LA- the ugliest fucking city on the California coastline that I realized the extent of SF's beauty.
In other news, I've been extremely busy with work... which is good and bad.
Good because Im starting to like my job. Bad because I hate waking up at 6:30 to get to the office at 8am. WHO DOES THAT?! Fucking aye! JESUS!
And so far every friend I've made so far in LA seems to be a New Yorker. Probably because I can't deal with dishonesty, and I'm sorry LA but your residents tend to be full of shit.
Don't tell me your a model, dude, when you're 5'4 and slightly pudgy. Saying you're a model ain't going to make you look like one. And calling yourself an actor when the one thing you've done is a commercial 7 years ago is a bit of a stretch. And make sure not to name drop too much; it looks desperate.
A bunch of us are going to the Gauntlet's wet underwear contest tomorrow night. Wish me luck, boys...my goodies are gonna be wet.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Poodle's Pad
Okay, so I'm full of envy and spite.
My friend Paul was out of town this week on work so he gave me the keys to his lush pad in WeHo.
The aprtment complex he lives in is REE-FUCKING-DICULOUS.
The kind of place that perhaps 5 percent of the total world population can afford to live in. IT's that KIND OF PLACE.
So of course its full of childless gays with large incomes and big SUVs.
As I was dropping by to use the pool the other day, the door to the apartment across the hall opened up and out stepped POODLE, a classmate of mine from Stanford.
Poodle earned his name as an undergrad for his incesssant primping. As a freshman, he made weekly trips to the nail salon, tanning salon, AND hair salon. (YES HAIR SALON... barber shops just wouldn't do for this girl) He went on to continue his weekly coiffing along with increased gym time....making this Stanford belle a very hot commodity.
He's fairly attractive with a lean built body, bright smile, and dark eyes, BUT he's also one of the most smug individuals in existence. AND I HAAAAAATE SMUGNESS.
Every converation I've had with Poodle involves 1)his money, 2) his looks, and 3) a repeating of the first two.
Poodle squealed when he saw me, and insisted I check his apartment out.
Except Poodle didnt live in an apartment, he lived on the set of a lost gay Sex and the City character. Or a high-end furniture showroom.
He lives in a two-bedroom apartment by himself. Dark hardwood floors. Marble showers, custom-designed kitchen, and two bathrooms.
And he owns the place.
Normally this sort of thing wouldnt bother me, but lately as I'm dealing with car payments, insurance, and student loans, I've become sensitive to money problems.
And I felt jealous. Jealous that Poodle has his rich parents to bank roll his life.
I know its totally idiotic seeing as we're all pretty lucky to have the lives we have.
Being a rational human being, the gym manager piped in his two cents during that night's work out.
"Since he didnt have to work for it, he doesn't really appreciate it. It's not like he earned that apartment, so in some ways I feel bad for him."
Who wants to earn shit?! And why do you feel bad for him??
Eh, but such is life...
It just sucks when you catch yourself being jealous of someone who sorta rubs you the wrong way.
My friend Paul was out of town this week on work so he gave me the keys to his lush pad in WeHo.
The aprtment complex he lives in is REE-FUCKING-DICULOUS.
The kind of place that perhaps 5 percent of the total world population can afford to live in. IT's that KIND OF PLACE.
So of course its full of childless gays with large incomes and big SUVs.
As I was dropping by to use the pool the other day, the door to the apartment across the hall opened up and out stepped POODLE, a classmate of mine from Stanford.
Poodle earned his name as an undergrad for his incesssant primping. As a freshman, he made weekly trips to the nail salon, tanning salon, AND hair salon. (YES HAIR SALON... barber shops just wouldn't do for this girl) He went on to continue his weekly coiffing along with increased gym time....making this Stanford belle a very hot commodity.
He's fairly attractive with a lean built body, bright smile, and dark eyes, BUT he's also one of the most smug individuals in existence. AND I HAAAAAATE SMUGNESS.
Every converation I've had with Poodle involves 1)his money, 2) his looks, and 3) a repeating of the first two.
Poodle squealed when he saw me, and insisted I check his apartment out.
Except Poodle didnt live in an apartment, he lived on the set of a lost gay Sex and the City character. Or a high-end furniture showroom.
He lives in a two-bedroom apartment by himself. Dark hardwood floors. Marble showers, custom-designed kitchen, and two bathrooms.
And he owns the place.
Normally this sort of thing wouldnt bother me, but lately as I'm dealing with car payments, insurance, and student loans, I've become sensitive to money problems.
And I felt jealous. Jealous that Poodle has his rich parents to bank roll his life.
I know its totally idiotic seeing as we're all pretty lucky to have the lives we have.
Being a rational human being, the gym manager piped in his two cents during that night's work out.
"Since he didnt have to work for it, he doesn't really appreciate it. It's not like he earned that apartment, so in some ways I feel bad for him."
Who wants to earn shit?! And why do you feel bad for him??
Eh, but such is life...
It just sucks when you catch yourself being jealous of someone who sorta rubs you the wrong way.
Thursday, July 21, 2005
You've Got To Work It Out
Last night the manager of my gym worked my kitten to a pulp. He's this beefy southern queen with a huge drawl and biceps to match. Despite the muscle mass, he's all woman! WEEEERK! He had me doing crazy exercises that made me want to vomit..had me panting, sweating, and on the verge of tears.
And I absolutely loved it.
Knowing that I'm pushing my body beyond its limitations really eggs me on. Especially when I can lift more weight than even a month ago. It's disgustingly body facist and self-absorbed, but it totally turns me on.
So why is it that I can't be like that with my career? Am I destined to become a huge meathead?!
Eh! Whatever, at least I'm not doing crack, people!
In other news, it looks like I'm going to be in Provincetown for a long weekend next month, and I really can't wait.
Gimme some East Coast flavor with quality beach time.
I'm going to see Trannyshack tomorrow night at some tranny-bar called Illusions.
And I absolutely loved it.
Knowing that I'm pushing my body beyond its limitations really eggs me on. Especially when I can lift more weight than even a month ago. It's disgustingly body facist and self-absorbed, but it totally turns me on.
So why is it that I can't be like that with my career? Am I destined to become a huge meathead?!
Eh! Whatever, at least I'm not doing crack, people!
In other news, it looks like I'm going to be in Provincetown for a long weekend next month, and I really can't wait.
Gimme some East Coast flavor with quality beach time.
I'm going to see Trannyshack tomorrow night at some tranny-bar called Illusions.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Eating in Glass Towers
Tim sent me a text message from Jean George's new restaurant Perry St, and once again, I'm mad with jealousy.
Not that I want to taste the culinary mastery of Jean George as much as I want to be in the Richard Meier towers, the architectural over-priced housing folly.
My plans for tonight include the Mean Girls DVD and some Carb-Karma Cookie Dough Ice Cream.
Not that I want to taste the culinary mastery of Jean George as much as I want to be in the Richard Meier towers, the architectural over-priced housing folly.
My plans for tonight include the Mean Girls DVD and some Carb-Karma Cookie Dough Ice Cream.
Monday, July 18, 2005
I got myself a fag hag
Tourists in LA always drive convertibles, and not cute ones like Mini-Cooper convertibles, but they'll have a Sebring. What kind of car is called a Sebring?!
And they're always red-faced from not wearing hats or sunblock.
On Friday, we headed to East West in WeHo.
Upscale, full of power fags, overpriced drinks and a full-on bouncer and line at the front.
As I stepped up to the bar, I laughed, and called Rachel, "Look, I'm not waiting in line for a gay bar in West Hollywood! Manhattan MAYBE, but WeHo...NEVER!"
Fortunately, Michelle got us in quick without too much of a scene, and this loud queen was silenced.
East West used to be Revolver, the video bar that showed Britney Spears clips and Sex and the City episodes. From what I hear, its been around since Pre-AIDS days, so I was sorta sad to see it go.
Now its home to the most upscale bar I've seen anywhere. Theres been talk that the management wants to institute some members only policy- which is laughable because of course faggots will be all over that like me on Collin O'Neal.
But come on, the bar isnt that nice...it's not like its the Soho House. But I feel like gays need to feel like they're members of some exclusive club in order to justify their catty behavior.
The guys there were honestly really hot. Probably the hottest collection of guys I've seen since coming here, but like all LA boys, they were all very manicured.
Michelle held court at our table at East West because she's the biggest fag hag I've ever met.
Now I know I've said I hate fag hags, because for the most part they're a cloying annoyance. And for most men, they're a crutch. Women who can't get a social life of their own so they latch onto the gay scene. And in doing so, become huge cock blockers.
But there's something very charismatic about Michelle.
She's incredibly witty, has a biting comedic edge, and is slightly crazy.
Which in my book, makes you family.
Plus she's elitist in the same ways I am and we've been ripping on people constantly.
She called me about a month ago out of the blue, and I had NO idea who the fuck she was.
Last year, I went into a friend's PR agency to interview for a job. I didn't end up getting the job (most likely because I was fifteen minutes late to the interview....) but I apparantly left a good impression with my friend's personal assistant. Now, I maybe talked to Michelle for 30 seconds...
This is the call I got:
Michelle: Hey honey, its Michelle!
Me: Uh..hey..
Michelle: Hey, long time no talk, but I heard you just moved out here so I thought I'd give you a call. I moved out here about a month ago.
Me: Great...now I dont mean to be rude, but who...are you?
Michelle: It's Michelle from Henry's office. We met last year, silly.
Me: Oh cool.... uhh, (trying to scan my memory for anything)
Michelle: Look doll, I have a harem of hot gay friends here, and if you're smart you'll come hang out and get cocktails ASAP.
Me (thinking): I'm now being telemarketed by fag hags.
And I of course perked up by the mention of "harem of hot gay friends."
I've met them, and they're soooo hot. Which sadly makes me happy. Looks like I have myself a fag hag.
And they're always red-faced from not wearing hats or sunblock.
On Friday, we headed to East West in WeHo.
Upscale, full of power fags, overpriced drinks and a full-on bouncer and line at the front.
As I stepped up to the bar, I laughed, and called Rachel, "Look, I'm not waiting in line for a gay bar in West Hollywood! Manhattan MAYBE, but WeHo...NEVER!"
Fortunately, Michelle got us in quick without too much of a scene, and this loud queen was silenced.
East West used to be Revolver, the video bar that showed Britney Spears clips and Sex and the City episodes. From what I hear, its been around since Pre-AIDS days, so I was sorta sad to see it go.
Now its home to the most upscale bar I've seen anywhere. Theres been talk that the management wants to institute some members only policy- which is laughable because of course faggots will be all over that like me on Collin O'Neal.
But come on, the bar isnt that nice...it's not like its the Soho House. But I feel like gays need to feel like they're members of some exclusive club in order to justify their catty behavior.
The guys there were honestly really hot. Probably the hottest collection of guys I've seen since coming here, but like all LA boys, they were all very manicured.
Michelle held court at our table at East West because she's the biggest fag hag I've ever met.
Now I know I've said I hate fag hags, because for the most part they're a cloying annoyance. And for most men, they're a crutch. Women who can't get a social life of their own so they latch onto the gay scene. And in doing so, become huge cock blockers.
But there's something very charismatic about Michelle.
She's incredibly witty, has a biting comedic edge, and is slightly crazy.
Which in my book, makes you family.
Plus she's elitist in the same ways I am and we've been ripping on people constantly.
She called me about a month ago out of the blue, and I had NO idea who the fuck she was.
Last year, I went into a friend's PR agency to interview for a job. I didn't end up getting the job (most likely because I was fifteen minutes late to the interview....) but I apparantly left a good impression with my friend's personal assistant. Now, I maybe talked to Michelle for 30 seconds...
This is the call I got:
Michelle: Hey honey, its Michelle!
Me: Uh..hey..
Michelle: Hey, long time no talk, but I heard you just moved out here so I thought I'd give you a call. I moved out here about a month ago.
Me: Great...now I dont mean to be rude, but who...are you?
Michelle: It's Michelle from Henry's office. We met last year, silly.
Me: Oh cool.... uhh, (trying to scan my memory for anything)
Michelle: Look doll, I have a harem of hot gay friends here, and if you're smart you'll come hang out and get cocktails ASAP.
Me (thinking): I'm now being telemarketed by fag hags.
And I of course perked up by the mention of "harem of hot gay friends."
I've met them, and they're soooo hot. Which sadly makes me happy. Looks like I have myself a fag hag.
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