i miss fags.

Fuck I miss the gays. We don't have them in my city and it feels so cold and lonely here.
The place I go to get my dose of daily Eastcoast Gayness (the best, most concentrated and cynical kind) is Overheard in New York.com The link to overheardinnewyork.com is in my links, or you can go here if your ass is too lazy to navigate to the sidebar. it's pretty far, i know. This is my favorite post for today:

No, Dear Heart, I'm With You

Queer: I would never want my little girl to be in Girl Scouts!
Girl: Why?
Queer: Because Girl Scouts is for lesbians.
Girl: That's not true! I was in Girl Scouts, and I'm not a lesbian!
Queer: Yeah, but you're fat and alone.

--Washington Sq Park

my boyfriend might be gay

One of my good friends has this irrational fear that all her boyfriends are secretly gay. Maybe i'm the one who should be worried.

wow

and while on the subject of photo essays, go here and see the Chernobyl photo essay. It's at the bottom left. If you aren't rendered speechless, you probably don't have a pulse.

another day in paradise.

i'm obsessed with photo essays. I don't know why, but i am. yesterday i found the VF Photo Agency and spent at least three hours crying helplessly in front of the computer. There is SO much suffering in the world. what can i do? how can i help? make a lot of money that then use it for good? or forget the pursuit of money and move to cambodia and live in a mental institution and try to help the poor captive souls there that are chained naked to their beds for all of eternity, or help the people living with advanced TB and AIDS who have been abandoned by their families.

I read/saw the photo essay of the Traina Sisters (by Lauren Greenfield--the Traina sisters are the worthless daughters of Romance novelist danielle steele) and then read/saw the "Lost Lives-Mental Health Crisis in Asia" (by John Stanmeyer) essay. The traina sisters shop around New York in the back of a limo, lounge around giant lofts on prisine white couches, and starve themselves to look hot. The poor souls in cambodia have no clothing, have been abandoned by their families, live in human waste in an institution that can't afford to even give them underwear, a mattress or a pair of shoes. They are honestly chained to the wall with padlocks. The disparity between one human lifestyle and another is so tragic. And it seems that the people who have all the money are so worthless and affected that they don't even think of helping other with it. (yes, tiger, i know you have your foundation, good job. and bill gates, thanks from India for all the help. yes, angelina. we think you're a saint. sort of .) But seeing these heartwrenching photos of others tragic daily lives makes me hate paris hilton's worthless vacant self-centered ass more than ever. if you have money, do something good with it.

anyway, after you read this go directly to the VF site if for no other reason than to realize how lucky you really are.

crackheads are everywhere

Somebody out there actually thought that the above picture was helpful in showing me the inside of the condo they had for rent. thank you. now i know how the house will look when i've been up for two days smoking crack and try to walk into the other room.

i'm moving out of my current place because it's in the middle of nowhere and takes either a 35 minute drive to get to anywhere we would want to go or a $100 cab ride which is retarded. I'm trying to do the responsible thing and look far in advance for a new place, but apparently no one in the apartment renting world understands that. Everything listed on craigslist is all "move in five days ago" or "half off rent for July" (i'm like of COURSE it should be half off, it is the END of july moron.)
when i do actually find something i would like to rent that doesn't require me to move in ten minutes from now, it is posted by some vague and unhelpful person that couldn't actually want to rent the place because their post says:
w/w, w/d, 2 bdrm, 2.5 bath great place pool in complex newer tile all appliances included great location.
what the fuck?
first of all, what rental doesn't have appliances? pls bring own fridge and stove, great location?
i sent an email asking where exactly it was located, how much rent was, when the move in date was and does it have carpet (i won't live in a place with carpet. do you know what is IN carpet? i'd rather have plain concrete or even asphault. even gravel would be better than carpet,)

I got back: yes it has carpet.

that's it. yes it has carpet.
and then to top it off, all the rest of the listings i could find today had generic pictures of the pool or the courtyard by the condo. i don't give a fuck about the outside view of the hedge by the pool for fucks sake, i want to see the actual place in which i might be living, like inside the kitchen and the bedroom for example. why even waste my time with a picture of the railing outside the complex and no other pictures?! is it just me or is everyone annoying on purpose?

dogskin and foreskin should never touch.

somebody needs to talk to Jay-Z

I know this picture isn't exactly new, but i'm mentioning it here because no matter how many times i see it, it never gets old. Which is lucky for me, because the first time I saw this horrible image it was irreversibly seared onto my retinas, so I see it all the fucking time.
Nice going, beyonce. Your retarded outfit has permanently damaged my vision and now I have to go around seeing your flaming plastic belt that doesn't match your street-sweeper boots riding horribly above your shredded skirt that is threatening show even MORE of your scary thigh.
and nice hair. piece.

Sometimes i hate my body...

...but then i find pictures like this, and i don't feel so bad. It's way better to be semi-hot your whole life (me) than to be a really hot teen star for fifteen minutes and then crumble into trash (Tara Reid.) Thanks, Tara. Because of you, I feel hot enough to skip the gym today.

these things are all true 1-20

1. i hate it when people waste food.
2. i'm scared i'll never be satisfied.
3. i fucking love meat but feel guilty eating it.
4. i'm a lucky bitch.
5. if my mascara is making my eyelashes clump together I can't leave the house until I separate them all.
6. i'm afraid i won't lead a significant life.
7. i love dave chapelle
8. OJ did it.
9. i'm allergic to gluten
10. i can't remember names of boring people. i'm sorry, but it's true. if you have no personal style and no salient feature or funny personality, you will be filed away with all the other boring white people i've met.
11. i hate carpet. it's fucking gross.
12. the suburbs are my personal hell.
13. i cry at Extreme Makeover, Home Edition. I love it when good things happen to good people.
14. I cry EVERY time i hear the national anthem.
13. and 14. are the only times i really ever cry.
15. I had no electricity or running water in my house until i was five.
16. i hate that there are people suffering around the world that i can't help.
17. i love the shit out of chanel make up.
18. i can't sit still.
19. i have crazy insomnia
20. george bush is a pathetic motherfucker.

Nelly Furtado is wack

I was just forced to listen to Nelly Furtado's "Promiscuous Girl" on the radio (because it's so goddamn hot here that the cd player in my car won't work.) The song is the WORST thing ever. the lyrics are painful and her voice is painful and she's a mother talking about being promiscuous like it's synonymous with sexy.
Nelly Furtado used to be fine. She was kind of mysterious and looked ethnic somehow even though she's from Canada. Then she disappeared to have a baby or whatever and came back looking old, hardened and like Vanilla Ice.

green eye, brown eye

pee

my little ratface dogmonster is turning into kind of an asshole. I think it stems from when I left him in a kennel for a week on "vacation". (Yes, the vacation is supposed to be in quotes, because it was the least relaxing and most stressful vacation ever taken. it turned into a funeral in every literal sense of the word. very sad.) anyway, my dog just came into the kitchen and looked me in the eyes (which he does all the time. he gazes into my eyes the way a man is supposed to, although if a man tried to gaze lovingly into my eyes my cynical ass would vomit on him. i mean, my actual ass wouldn't vomit...never mind.) anyway, he looked me in the eyes and just straight peed on the floor, staring directly in my eyes and peeing like "what?".
what the fuck? I think he's still pissed from the kennel experience because it must have been bad for him. The kennel was called a Pet Resort but when you live in a steel cage for a week, the word Resort is just for show. steel bars = prison. and he was cleary traumatized and hasn't been the same since. any advice, anyone?

and the only other thing i have to say about pee is that i got ruphied once and peed in my boyfriend's bed. We had been out at a bar and and I had two drinks and then blacked out, so my boyfriend took me back to his house and put me to bed. The next morning he woke me up and i said, "oh my god! one of us PEED in the bed last night!" and he said "ah, yeah, I slept on the couch last night." so it was me who peed. so the joke was on me. actually, it was on him, because he had a bed full of pee. ha ha in your face boyfriend.

leanin' hard to the left like a big shot...

my chihuahua has mad gangsta lean

this is for you, z

The tragedy of Britney...

How could this transformation happen? There is no God. Or if there is, He hates Britney Spears.

"Behold the Beauty of the Tiger"

If you don't read The Superficial every fifteen seconds (like i do) then you don't know about this asinine paragraph Britney Spears wrote about tigers. (It's on her website in the "Love B" section.) PLEASE take three minutes out of your day to read it. You will feel like a genius.

chill the fuck out with the clingy girlfriend shit.

why are all the girls I know OBSSESSED with their boyfriends? I love my boyfriend, i enjoy his company, i love waking up next to him etc., etc. But i don't need to hang out with him every second of every waking moment and my love for him isn't so psycho and annoying that it prevents me from even calling my friends to kick it once in a while. seriously, EVERY friend i have right now is in a relationship and can only hang out if her boyfriend is busy, working late, or having a guys night. what the fuck. I don't think guys would be as busy, work as late, or have as many guys nights if their clingy girlfriends would just take some initiative and leave the house for five seconds.
maybe i'm just a cold-hearted bitch. but I doubt it.

my invisible friend is better than yours.

Disclaimer: I am have nothing against religion. i think it's wonderful that people can find comfort in faith. I think that whatever gets each individual through his or her day on this insane planet is great. Just don't push it on me, or tell me i'm going to hell. seriously.

The thing I don't like is when people get really weird and obsessive about religion, and use their faith as an excuse to be a total negative asshole to fellow humans. And when I say people, I really mean this person. (open link in new window so you can follow along with my shit talking.) Notice the "150,000 people will die today" ticker that starts morbidly counting out poor souls when you open the page. (It also points out that most of these people would be going to hell.) Then notice the obnoxious crossbar in the top right hand corner. Apparently her blog is serving the lord, and I wan't sure how, until I found her line to needgod.com.
God wants her to lead people to his internet test, which I guess is replacing whatever used to happen at the old Pearly Gates.
Just to let everyone know, I took the test. I failed. I happened to have broken a commandment or two , which means I automatically failed the test. The funny part is that when you fail, they ask you if you think you are worthy of Heaven or Hell, and you click on buttons labeled as such. I said Heaven, because i'm a pretty good person. My answer? INCORRECT. "It has already been established that you are guilty of breaking his commandments", they said, so my answer of Heaven was incorrect. Then they go on to say "Please don't be discouraged...Our straightforwardness is motivated by a genuine concern for your soul." Thank you needgod.com. It feels so good to know that someone is watching out for me.

these things hate me

• my chihuahua
• my back
• some girl named brooke. I don't recall ever meeting her, but it got back to me that she hates me. It's hard to be hated by someone you don't even know, but then again, no one said being a celebrity would be easy.
  

These chintzy jeans are from House of Dereon. Marked down to $49! Quick, get me my AMEX!

I just have to rant for a second about Beyonce and her mother's clothing line. Seriously. Here
is the website, with a well designed flash intro. Here is what House of Dereon actually offers. I think that the clothes speak for themselves, but just to be sure, I'm going to speak for them, too.
First of all, Beyonce's mother is responsible for creating this, which means she can't design to save her own life. Yeah, the girls look hot, but that's because they are beautiful women and would look hot if someone threw up on them (which is kind of how they look in the picture.) The worst part about the whole thing is that these clothes are marketed like House of Dereon is on par with Gucci or something, with tons of money thrown into marketing and presentation. (I saw their booth at the MAGIC show. You had to have an appointment to get past the giant wooden "reception desk" and into the "lounge" to view the "clothing".)
The clothing offered by House of Dereon is a lot like the Jennifer Lopez line: trashy, annoying, and destined for the sale rack (which is clearly illustrated on the House of Dereon website, where "ALL clothing is 50% off! Do you think Gucci needs an All Clothing 50% Off sale? Exactly.)
Okay, so what's my point? I don't want to talk too much shit about Beyonce. She's a very inspiring woman. She managed to become uber-famous without actually having any talent, which is very impressive. She seems to have a great relationship with Jay-Z (because, you know, I'm pretty tight with the two of them and they always seem so happy.) She has worked very hard to get where she is, and has a ton of money to throw at anything she decides to. and therein lies the problem. Just because you HAVE the money to start your own line doesn't mean you SHOULD. (are you listening Nicky Hilton and Jessica Simpson?) That's my point. It is annoying to be subjected to the feeble attempts of celebrities to have fashion lines. Yeah, they look good all the time. Because they have stylists, not because they know anything about designing clothing. okay, i'm done. does this post even make sense? i don't know, probably not. i just got annoyed when I saw the house of dereon website and wanted to rant about it. peace out.

Paris Hilton looks like a Gelfling

magic limo ride, mannix wedding

I love these things v.1

• Murad
  
• Yorkshire gold
• Pedicures
• My Treo
• The Arizona Chihuahua Rescue Organization
• Buffalo Steak
• Nas
• xanax
• cleaning the f*ck out of my kitchen
• little boobs on other girls
• big boobs on me
• Biggie Smalls
• Voss water. it's in a glass bottle. word.
• giant hoop earrings

These things hate me

• my chihuahua
• my back
• some girl named Brooke Overcast. I don't recall ever meeting her, but it got back to me that she doesn't like me. It's hard to be hated by someone you don't even know, but then again no one said being a celebrity was easy. People are jealous of you but they turn their jealousy into hate.
  

I hate these things v.1

• things on surfaces, darling, things on surfaces (if you get that reference you are my favorite. or you are ket. who is my favorite.)
  
• dust bunnies
• unclean kitchens
• appliances on counter tops (see "things on surfaces")
  
• french pedicures. seriously. who wants their toenails to look so long that they have 1/4" of toenail growth?
• the microwave. here's why.
• neo-hippies. ugh.
• jam bands
• whitney houston's new look.
• children. i try to like them. but i don't.
  
• project runway assholes
• the people at this number: 1.866.484.8292. They incessantly call my house at all hours of the day and all days of the week, even though I am on the "do not call" list, which is probably bullshit, but whatever. Please call the above number whenever you feel like it. If no one answers, leave them a five minute message of silence.
• the sound of a kettle whistling. some people find the sound comforting. those people are totally insane.
  

I just had to go to Ross (for work, long story), which always fucking sucks. It's cooled down to about 110, which means I still get to complain about how hot it is, so driving to Ross also sucked because it's so damn hot the AC has to blow directly at you so you don't get heat stroke and kill yourself before you get there. That is, if you can get there before a stupid Scottsdale bitch plows her car directly into yours killing you as she drying her nails out the window and plucking her eyebrows while driving with her knee and dictating a text message for her boyfriend to her daughter.

Anyway, while I was in Ross I overheard a lady on the phone:

Obnoxious Over-Bleached Hair Lady: "Well, the worst thing I could do right now is go back to work."

Me (thinking): wow, I wonder what happened to her, she must have gotten hurt or something and wants to go back to work but she's not well enough. "

OO-BHL: "Yeah, I know, I mean I can't make it look like I can take care of myself, that would ruin EVERYthing." pause "Yeah, I just have to look like I can't do anything for myself so that he's forced to give me a few EXTRA grand a month on top of the alimony I'm already getting. I mean, if they found out I'm a capable woman, I wouldn't probably get anything."

Me: What the fuck. not as in "what the fuck?" But as in what. the. fuck. What is wrong with people? I don't know the whole story, so maybe the guy was a total abusive asshole and he deserves to drop thousands of dollars a month on a scary Gary Busey looking bitch in spandex shorts (no joke) and a windbreaker. but probably not.

also, gary busey is crazy








....

Biggie Smalls is the Illest

This is my chihuahua getting a bath. Note the claws. Biggie Smalls ain't nothin to fuck wit.

I was trying to find a pic online of my NEW OBSESSION which is Chanel Joues Contraste in Turbulent. The pic found is shown in Orchid Rose which is NOT as exciting as Turbulent. Turbulent is so hot it is scary, and it's intimidating because it's so fucking pink even paris hilton might be scared of it. But then you put it on and you are instantly hotter than paris hilton. (although you probably were hotter to begin with, unless you live in a cardboard box and think you have an indoor bathroom in there with you. actually...even then...)
Anyway, the whole piont is that my google search led me to ebay, where i noticed that someone is selling 2 compacts of cheap ass maybelline blush for $2.74, and the highest bid is already at $4.50 or some shit. Seriously. Maybelline blush is $3.50 at walgreens, and there are jackasses out there willing to pay MORE than that on ebay and then also pay shipping fees to get it to their house. What is wrong with you, highest bidder? Get off your fat ass and off your computer and drive to Walgreens, buy the damn blush, and then go home and put it on so you look hot for your web cam.

i used to be a raver

I'd just like to lead everyone in a moment of silence for Buzz (or cubik, if you are too young to rememer buzz), which officially stopped happening at the Capitol Ballroom last friday. I'm sure they'll keep providing an unsafe place for minors to eat ecstasy somewhere else, but it won't be the same as the Capitol Ballroom.
So please bow your head and say a small prayer for friday night's buzz, the last night that party kids can see our beautiful nation's capital building shining out over the ghetto from outside on the deck. That is if they can focus anything at all, because they will be rolling face.

another dear senna

Sen,
So here i am, writing you another letter from far away. (usually i don't send them, which is why you probably didn't know about the first ones and "another" probably doesn't make sense to you). I spent the last six dollars i had on an alarm clock at Walgreens so i could get up for school. I'm sitting in front of my ratty little dest with my toes in the ratty maroon carpet. I sucks living in the only dive building in the neighborhood. Across the way is a rad building which apparently only rich people live in, since they all have Jags that get parked in private garages which no one has in san francisco except rich people.
The couple across the way in the third floor apartment are very calming to spy on. They come home from work and have dinner and then she goes to the gym and he goes running, and then they meet at the end of the night and nestle on the couch together watching TV. I think if i had to live that monotonous life I'd go crazy, but right now while i'm lonely and nearly friendless in this new city, it looks really great. They probably think I'm psycho for gazing out the window at them all the time (i actually put on my glasses the other day so i could see them better!) Actually i'm sure they can't see me from there. i hope not. i'm really not a crazy voyeur, just lonely.
I went to orientation today, it was an interesting experience. There isn't a single ugly or even remotely unattractive person there. You'd think it was a modeling school or something. I stayed in Oakland at hillary's place the night before and then got up and took the train to school, so i was wearing wrinkly clothes and i was all undone and sweaty. the rest of the school was hot and perfectly manicured, wearing prada, gucci, and diesel and carrying LV hand bags. (i, however, was wearing sweat and hangnails and carrying an army issue hand bag.)
So that was my daily does of humiliation as well as my reminder not to eat until november. (and i swear i am also the shortest person there.)
I guess it's not a bad thing that i can't afford to shop for nice clothes because it would be really easy to spend out of control here. I live right downtown which is the shopping district so i walk by urban outfitters, diesel, NM and 20 other stores that i'm not allowed in due to my tax bracket (tiffany, prada, chanel, Hermes). It is kind of depressing but at the same time empowering, like i'm sticking it to the man. okay, i'm lying. it fucking sucks and all i want to do is shop until i don't feel like a fat sweaty fatty anymore. It's not empowering. it's really hard being more broke that i've ever been. But i'm going to start going to the gym so that at least my body looks good even though i'm wearing a burlap sack tied on with a towel.

end letter.

dear senna

I just found this old letter I wrote to my friend senna, who I always write to instead of writing in a diary. Actually i guess that is writing in a diary, I just pretend i'm going to send the thing to senna and then don't.

Dear Sen,
Hi!
I don't have any pics of Guinness (dog) to send you, but as soon as I get some, I'll send them.
Briar (dog) is now extremely large sized and continues to grow at an enormously fast paced rate.
How is Ashland? do you miss mitch? What is life in college like, i can't remember.
Please call or write soon with some news of the outside world. Please do not include any news that involves puppies, doing laundry, or serving pizza to fat people, as these are the things my life consists of already.


end letter.