you can be a shorty in my ill convoy

i've been gone a long time.

2009-08-24T19:31:00.000-07:00

but i hear my train a comin.

THIS POST IS BROUGHT TO you by Tramadol and apparently the caps lock key oops sorry

2009-04-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

this is the story of my weekend: wifebeater, painkillers, yankees hat (to cover the nappy hair) and darkened room on couch.

ripped jeans from the dressing room in happier days when i could leave the house and do stuff like walk around and try on clothing. ripped jeans, yes or no?

and more from happier days before back pain: went out for a friend's birthday, shook our ass (collectively), drank almost too much but not quite, passed out on the couch and woke up in panic attack mode. i swear, even one drink and i am fucked the next day. not like i just had one. but you get the picture.

i went for my purse to heal myself with delicious xanax, my savior, and found that someone went in my fucking purse and stole my entire bottle! how fucking invasive. that means that someone had to go in my purse, find the zippered case that my pill bottles were in, look through them to see which one to take (and why not take them all?) and then re-zip the pouch and re-zip the purse. and of course they didn't take the tramadol that i haev a million of, they took the awesome cornicopia of pills i've been collecting for a variety of things. xanax, klonipin, adderal, all gone. =( frowny face. whoever you are, i hope you have fun with my carefully hoarded pills. asshole.

i keep it real at illconvoy. no photoshopping out my 15-year-old skin that somehow didn't get the message about breakouts ending in ONE'S TEENS. hopefully nicole's glowing complexion can at least shine a little light on mine.

i do'nt remember you falling, liz, but i'm sure it was hilarious.

blackberry, champagne, money, ass shaking, hoop earrings, and a scarf. my loves captured together in a photo for eternity.

i love the bananacure

so i've been sitting for about 20 minutes now, the longest i've sat since friday afternoon. feeling a little swervy. my couch is calling.

wait, they're clowning WHICH one?

2009-03-28T08:38:00.000-07:00

i keep seeing this photo set everywhere (dlisted.com, that annoying omg! yahoo thing, etc.) and i can't help wondering why kathy griffin is getting shit on when paris is actually serious with her "outfit". did she just step off the set of A Mid-Summer Night's Dream? or is she BFF with that Peter Pan dude in Tampa...wait maybe she IS that dude...i might be onto something here.

anyway, have you noticed how matchy-matchy paris has been lately? i'm all for the Two Colors One Outfit rule, but choose the colors wisely.

yes, matching your purse to your shoes is always a safe call. but matching your shoes to the giant oragami shower curtain around your waist...not a good look. and what's with the silver clutch? there are two things you never mix in one outfit: different metals and different denims. unless you are dolly parton or going to burning man, gold and silver or dark and light denim do not belong in the same outfit.

in other news, i got a yellow mani/pedi the other day from hillaria, the world's best nail tech. i was hoping for neon lemon...got canary mustard instead.

things that might grow on me: yellow mani/pedi.

things that won't grow on me: paris hilton's rendition of blade runner.

Facebook Haterade

2009-03-13T13:48:00.000-07:00

a few weeks ago some random dude emailed me a one line email: "do you spin records?"

just to be polite, i wrote him back telling him no, i don't. i guess if you wear adidas track jackets and hoop earrings you are obviously a dj.

then he wrote back and asked "i just started spinning a few months ago. do you break or anything?"

oh, my bad, i guess the track jacket means i'm a b-girl. because you can't just love hip hop and wear adidas without being a master of at least ONE of the four elements. (google it, mom). i ignored him because really, i don't have time to answer random-ass questions from freaky strangers on facebook.

so then, at 5:15 am today i get this message:

"Those pictures are fake, aren't they...
I realize you're probably some weird pervert in his 60's cruising facebook for guys. I'm just wondering why you are picking up random guys on the internet if it's really you in those pictures. You probably should add a couple more pictures of that girl with different track jackets on just to make it a little more believable. I thought about possibly adding you as a friend but I don't know if we would really have that much in common. Whoever that girl is i'm sure she's a sweetheart with a unique sense of style. Good luck."

awesome. at least he got two things right. one, i AM a sweetheart with a unique sense of style, thanks for noticing. two, if you think it's okay to write a complete stranger and accuse them of being a fake ass old man because they don't answer your asinine questions on facebook, then you're right, we don't have that much in common.

this is him

POUR OUT A LITTLE BOLI FOR THE HOMEGIRLS

2009-03-11T16:42:00.001-07:00

NOOOOO THIS IS NOT OKAY. FUCK YOU KRISTEN JOHNSTON, FUCK YOU KATHRYN HAHN (WHOEVER YOU ARE), FUCK YOUR FAKE ASS FAT ROLL, YOU BITCHES WILL NEVER REPLACE PATSY AND EDDIE.

THIS:

IS NOT THE SAME AS THIS:

CHEAP ASS IMITATION BITCHES WON'T LAST ONE SEASON.

i want i want i want

2009-03-10T17:31:00.000-07:00

blog posts about dreams are boring.

2009-03-07T21:10:00.000-08:00

I had the weirdest dreams last night that my friend senna and i lived in these floating trailers above this weird field. And I wasn't allowed to eat dinner in the Cool Floating Trailer because I was too poor and geeky, it was a lot like 2nd grade. It was okay though because I was like fuck this floating trailer bullshit, this can't be safe anyway. Shit is going to fall out of the sky one day, mark my words.

this picture has nothing to do with dreams or floating trailers, but there's no such thing as too much Patsy, so i'm posting it.

usually it's annoying when people post mad videos on blogs.

2009-02-28T10:08:00.000-08:00

but this shit is just so good. oh lord if i could only shake my ass like that.

2009-02-20T15:21:00.001-08:00

ever get so depressed that you have to sit very still because moving hurts and you're freezing all the time?

erykah badu is the truth

2009-02-05T14:32:00.000-08:00

no only is she talented, hot, and a dope performer, but she gave birth at home with a mid wife and no drugs. holla. i keep saying i want to do a home birth as so many of my friends were born at home...but damn that idea is scary.

actually, i guess what is really scary is the thought of having kids at all, no matter how they little asses get out.

2009-01-29T20:28:00.000-08:00

we just opened a new print studio! so today i spent all day on etsy looking for undiscovered unique and innovative new artists to represent. etsy is actually incredibly inspiring and it was great to discover new people that are being creative and live in their own little self created world of whimsical felted characters and watercolored birds. (because 98% of etsy is watercolored birds. for real.) etsy makes me warm and fuzzy inside. etsy is a happy little world where there's always tea and everyone has eclectic clothing and mismatched antique frames around pictures of loved ones and funny looking pets with snaggle teeth in hand made sweaters and if you wear glasses they are hornrimmed and if it's cold at least 495 people can offer you a knitted circle scarf with chunky yarn and you can walk through painted forests with bears but the bears are nice and there's even a guy who will ship you vegan buffalo wings but if you prefer food made out of fabric or felt (mostly cupcakes) you can have that, too.

in other, non-etsy related news, i could really use some friends that listen to hip hop up in this bitch. i'd be happy even if they like DnB at this point. fuck, i'd settle for straight up house music i'm not kidding. i didn't realize how much music is a part of my life until i lived for a year without ANY access to it. i just want to shake my ass. is that so wrong?

these new things are helping me forget that winter on the east coast fucking sucks and i will apply them all and dream of being brown and wearing a wifebeater.

god DAMN does balenciaga look good. the giant hairy arms might be a bit awkward on the subway, but i can't be mad at nicolas ghesquiere. he is a god.

another thing i can't be mad at - i know, i know, i was amazed too - is this shoe:

i know, it's basically a white dock shoe with tassels that kanye west pretended to design with LV that by definition should be wack, but i'm an absolute SLAVE to tassels, tassels basically own my soul and you could put tassels on just about anything and i would wear it, no matter what it was. i'm not kidding, i was just trying to think of something you could add a tassel to that i wouldn't wear and i couldn't come up with a single thing. hammer pants. with a tassels somewhere, yes. i would rock them. acid wash high waisted bugle boy jeans. with tassels, yes, i would rock that shit with a dope acies mine wifebeater and my celine platforms. the tassels would make it work. i can't think of anything! if you can think of something, leave it in the comments.

okay, enough tassel and etsy land for one night. i have to finish the mamafest merchandise and try to sleep. trying to go to yoga tomorrow for the first time all week. i haven't been able to breathe out of my nose due to laryngitis so i would have suffocated trying to do some downward facing dog. i love yoga. more yoga = less xanax. awesome.

take seven mintues out of your day.

2009-01-10T14:07:00.000-08:00

i'm sure you're mad busy and shit. but nothing you could possible do will be as dope as this video.

joaquin phoenix did not preserve the sexy

2009-01-06T06:53:00.000-08:00

WTF Joaquin? Puffy is staring at your crazy homeless-looking ass in total disbelief, and quite frankly, so am i.

in other news, my business partner wants me to do fitness bootcamp before work three times a week. fuck that. if i need to step up my fitness game i'll stop eating sugar and go to yoga. if i need to step up my weight loss game i'll stop eating at all and go to my drug dealer. either way, the last thing i need is a new jersey soccer mom yelling at me to do more sit-ups.

2009-01-02T08:19:00.000-08:00

so 2009, huh? 2009 is like the year we used to pretend it was when we were little and wanted to play grown-up. i thought there would be a lot more rocket boots and flying cars by now, but whatever.

so i rang in the new year in a loft in brooklyn. actually, a few lofts. as usual i sucked at taking pictures and only have a few random ones that don't really illustrate any of the things that went down.

nothing says happy new year like Rick Owens ponyhair kicks. i love the recession because it makes all the shoes we want totally affordable.

dorsey was the holiday grinch and did a lot of shit talking the new year. the jager helped.
(i stayed the fuck away from the jager because every single time i drink that shit i end up blacking out, even if i just take a shot. plus it tastes like shit. for real. do not try to front like jager tastes good because you and i both know that it tastes like cough syrup and kerosene.)

see? a few jager swigs later and the grinch is down to take a civilized picture.

thanks for the loft party, homegirl!

ket and i right before the countdown.

after the countdown i basically tried to play catch-up with my sobriety. i realized over christmas FOR REAL THIS TIME that i don't really like to be drunk. we were in VA for for the holiday i got in a text fight with one of my best friends and had some shots of patron to take the edge off. i think what i actually did was give myself cirrhosis of the liver. i woke up the next day with the mother of all anxiety attacks, and poor brian had to drive us the whole way home from DC because all i could do was whimper, try not to puke, and eat xanax. i made it all the way back to our parking garage without incident, and then spent the next 20 minutes by myself shaking and puking in a trashbag in our car like sarina from intervention. not my finest hour. since then i've lost five pounds (a lot for me) and just looking at food turns my stomach.

the point is that i can't handle alcohol anymore, so the few glasses of Veuve at ket's house, swig of wine in the back of a cab, and maybe 1/3 of a bottle of prosecco made me mad swervy for the entire night. wtf? ket and i tried to find some yosh to at least clear my head but it didn't go down, then dorsey disappeared and then ket disappeared and i was adopted by the most adorable gays of all time who decided we were kindred spirits and put me in their cab back to their loft where i counselled them through a rough spot in their relationship and made friends with their blind italian greyhound bella, did a line, and fell asleep.

i woke up in the CUTS in brooklyn, had to walk forever to find a train, which ended up being the G on flushing, and made it back to civilization. all in six in micheal kors heels. but i looked good.

i don't have any resolutions this year. i don't really feel like i need to make any major changes. if i ate any better than i did i would be a fucking vegan for christ's sake, and that shit is NOT going down. i already work out as much as a 15 hour a day work-a-holic can. i don't smoke. i'm clearly not going to be drinking too much. the yosh is pretty much a distant memory. jesus, how boring do i sound. maybe my resolution should be to try to add back some vices. okay, fine. i resolve to spend waaay too much money on Chanel make-up and to add in a $20 sack once in a while. and i'll go to yoga more. hello 2009.

2008-12-28T19:25:00.001-08:00

so chihuahuas apparently have this thing where they get erections that don't go away for, like, a month, and you have to take them to the creepy small animal hospital when you get back from canada and find out that the tip of their month-long-erection penis has become frost bitten from being in the cold.

when you take the chihuahua to the creepy animal hospital, the hilarious nurse with the voice exactly like Rosie Perez says "Aw, his name is Biggie Smalls? Well we know what's big right now, don't we!"

then you have to have the chihuahua sedated because, well, it SUCKS to have someone stuff your penis back into your body, i guess.

then you get a syringe of KY Jelly and are taught how to stuff the penis back in if necessary. hell no. i'm calling rosie perez the minute that shit comes out again. biggie and i have to look each other in the eye for at least another ten years and there's no way the penis syringe shit is going down.

also apparently when you sedate a chihuahua its tongue sticks out of its head like the 2007 world's ugliest dog and it's the funniest thing of all time.

OCD closet

2008-12-28T18:55:00.000-08:00

do NOT fuck with my closet.

i was just at a wedding last week in Canada and had to mess some shit up in order to pack. that's why there are piles of things on the table at the bottom. the table is a temporary place to put things, things do not go on the table permanently or i get a little OCD freakshowish and have to put them Where They Belong and dust off the table immediately. my man has his own closet in the small room between the living room and the office. Man Clothes fuck up the flow.

g-strings? check. shoes? check. new camera that i can finally put in my acme made camera case i've had for no reason for two years? check. tramadol and xanax or so help me god shit will go wrong? check.

i suck at taking pictures at weddings, even with a new camera that i'm excited to use. this is really the only one i got that isn't a grainy dark lame red-eyes for everyone attempt.

i shared a room with my hot stepsister and her adorable daughter. we ordered breakfast in bed and watched kung fu panda. then we had champage. not bad. the only negative was the 30 below temp. what. the. fuck. i can't believe people live like that and not go totally insane. i went out to start my stepbro's truck without a coat on and almost died of hypothermia in the driveway. i suck at winter so bad.

nom nom nom

2008-12-07T16:55:00.000-08:00

could this sound more like an advertorial? jesus, sorry, just let me vent some flagrant consumerism for a minute.

2008-12-07T11:35:00.000-08:00

i used to have this thing...i really liked it a lot...it was, let's see if i can remember the word...a WAIST? A waist. that sounds right. it used to look really good with this other thing i used to have...an ass. sigh. too much computer work is robbing me of the best (looking) years of my life.

today i was IMing with a friend about my major struggle to not buy these four perfumes:

viktor & rolf, flowerbomb. in a pink crystal grenade. with the best marketing campaign EVER. how much do i sound like xiaxue? super chio bottle la?!

i got a sample of this from sephora when i ordered the two skincare items i can not live without, and i have to sell crack or a kidney on the black market to get them i will so help me god, and was totally surprised by how delicious it was. it has notes of carmelized popcorn, which sounds more like how a sticky soccer mom minivan smells and less like a "pure. precious. modern" woman smells, but actually it's the shit! i'm in love. dear miss dior cherie, you are so getting bought and owned today.

chance is the old standby. i'm not sure if i'm still in love with it or if i just feel like i have to have it again, because, well, i always have it.

and gucci II, my other favorite.

my friend was saying how she'd resent the perfumes if she ended up spending that much dough on them. that they'd stare at her from the dresser and remind her what a waste of money they were. i had the complete opposite thought: i would arrange them OCD style on some kind of mirror or plate and bask in the sense of completeness i felt from having them all together at one time for my personal use and enjoyment. i have a really hard time deciding between things i want. i think it comes from my childhood where i had plastic windows, shitty clothes, bad hair and no money. don't get me wrong, i'm happy for having been raised ugly and poor - that's where i got my winning and captivating personality. i never got to rely on my looks or family loot, it was straight up intelligence and humor with which i clawed my way to the top (of the high school social ladder, anyway.) then i got older and somehow ended up being kind of hot. which was nice.

it was once i went off to college and gained control of my personal finance that i learned i didn't have to decide between the brown shoes and the black shoes, i can have all the shoes. i will never forget the moment in Macy's, trying on shoes with the usual sadness and sense of poverty that i always had when shopping, that i realized i could have both fucking pairs and the world would not end and i'd still somehow manage to eat that day. (although eating in college was pretty optional anyway...raise your hand if you feel me on the college anorexia...) anyway, deciding not make the choice was an awesome feeling.

how does a poor girl from a hippie commune end up obsessing over L.A.M.B. shoes, perfume, and titties? i have no idea. just one of many Total Contradictions that people have been pointing out to me lately.

2008-11-28T13:04:00.000-08:00

so we moved into an old brick apartment above an italian restaurant. the building is from the 1800's. the original tin tiles are still in the ceiling which i think is really cool. in certain places the tiles change to random patterns and i wonder if the Olde Tyme Store ran out of the correct tiles or if there was a leak and the tiles had to be replaced or what happened and i always wonder who put them up and what this person looked like and why they chose the tiles they did and who lived (and died?) in here in the past 200 years. bring on the ghosts. seriously, how could this place NOT be haunted? so far no ghost activity except a soft thumping that happens on the door once in a while that freaks out the doberman. potential ghost activity i guess.

someone really needs to invent these two things, pronto: one, a dishwasher that actually washes dishes instead of just half assedly sloshing the food around on them and calling it a day, and two, a fucking painkiller i can take for my back that doesn't give me the mother of all painkiller hangovers with symptoms including but not limited to Monster Headache and shaky nauseau.

and now, for your viewing pleasure, the entire contents of my shitty blackberry phone media card. in no particular order. (i KNOW, how AWEsome.)

soho hates sarah palin

www.aciesmine.com

i'm bringing back the 70's pantsuit/jumper one boogie night at a time.

didn't buy the dress, a little too hot chicks with douchbags for my taste...

i actually wore shorts one time...

mom dukes

happy birthday to me, patron shot #6 please

this shoe owns my soul

thanks mom

sen dogg. if you are reading this, get a fucking facebook account immediately for the love of all things good and holy.

dowling manor

san francisco spiders do NOT fuck around. Note missing leg probably lost in spider battle.

Pop dukes. he doesn't fuck around either.

2008-11-26T14:58:00.001-08:00

i wanted to write a funny, interesting, probably kind of manic and definitely run-on sentence filled post about how much i fucking love DC, including but not limited to paragraphs regarding my heroic intake of patron, sipping spiced rum and cider in the jacuzzi, downing xanax and lorazepam to combat the following hangover anxiety demons, making out with friends, reconnecting with friends, remembering that i have the best friends in the world, and the fact that i got the fucking sickest pair of L.A.M.B. heels at Saks. ( i was going to try to describe the shoes but realized that would be impossible. Can you describe the face of an angel? Can you describe the caress of a pegasus' wings against a rainbow? there are no words good enough for the hotness that is these shoes. so instead i took a crappy picture on my blackberry.)

even in this grainy blackberry photo you can tell that these shoes are clearly the ruler of the world.

now i'm back at home. in reality. opened the pile of bills on my desk, had lunch with the business partner, took the dogs out, listened to the best fucking drum and bass album ever produced while thinking about the old days doing key bumps on my way to FIVE, and listlesly unpacked almost six of the 3,984,579,238,475 things in my suitcase before i completely gave in to my restlessness and said fuck it. why am i living so far from the people i love and am energized by? for my career? for the potential of a solid financial future? shouldn't i care more about being happy and surrounded by fam on the daily instead? why am i not buying a townhouse in the Mission, living in San Francisco and making my dreams a reality? why am i not moving to DC like, tomorrow, and again, living my life like each day is all i have?

and seriously, what the FUCK am i doing in New Jersey?

olive ewe

2008-11-15T11:49:00.001-08:00

all the old school homegirls and i at a wedding.

i made us all shirts with an olive and a ewe (get it? olive ewe? like, i love you?)

a few years ago i was working with a client who wanted to do cute sayings on baby clothes (she basically just wrote down every cute saying she saw on a fucking onesie while she traveled around the world with her rich husband and then wanted me to knock them all off for her). one of the sayings she wanted to do was a picture of an olive and a picture of a juice box - "olive juice", which to me just sounds like "I love Jews", which is fine, but doesn't have quite the same ring to it as "I Love You"... Anyway, i decided to switch it and do the Olive Ewe instead, you know, just for clarity. so i turned the project in with an adorable olive and a cute cartoon-y ewe, and she took one look at it and said "i just don't think people will get it...actually, i don't really get it...why is "Olive Sheep" cute?"

i was like, uh, it's a ewe...a female sheep...olive ewe...?

She said she'd never heard of a ewe and said she was pretty sure that most people in america had never heard of this "ewe".

ugh.

shit has been rough

2008-11-08T15:24:00.000-08:00

i'm not going to lie, shit is not sweet right now. almost got evicted, almost signed a $360,000 client, almost let some negativity get in the way of my positive vibe, didn't get paid for almost 2 months, almost about to lose my mind. i've never been one of those people to "do the smart thing" and put my dreams on hold. i'm not really down with "it makes sense financially" and "we'll just do this for now". There isn't anything BUT now, and somehow, i feel like my life is passing me by while i try to figure out how to accomplish what i know i can do if i would just DO it already.

2009 will be all about removing the bullshit and the non-contributing "friends" who i haven't been able to break up with but make me feel empty and uninspired. i have so many amazing, creative, intelligent, honest friends who have my back and are really family. so i'm going to focus on those and foget the rest. not in a negative way, just a way that tells the universe i'm going to only allow and cultivate positivity.

and luam is the fucking illest.

2008-09-28T12:31:00.001-07:00

I couldn't possibly want this ring more than i already do. it might be the most coveted thing in dee goldie history. someday it will be mine, and i don't care who gets robbed or what gets sold to make it happen. don't worry, i'll let you know when it all goes down.

Yesterday may have been the most anxious day of my life. i had to buy a car (i know, who needs a fucking car?), send out my resume and online work samples to every single person on the internet looking for a fashion/graphic designer/someone to get coffee/coke slanger/pretty face to actually afford the car, pack up the entire apartment alone - which is annoying because i live with a packrat that still has in his posession every single scrap of paper and pencil nub and book and wrapper and random ass peice of shit that he has ever laid his hands on (and i'm the total opposite, i could live in a bare room with a candle and my computer and feel like the place was too cluttered), shuffle money around to pay bills (it's especially hard to shuffle money that doesn't exist...i could really use a government bailout right about now.), and clean the apartment as i'm packing - that annoying kind of cleaning that you only do when you seriously have to, like vacuuming under the couch and shit. (do you all vacuum under the couch on the regular? because i don't. obviously.) we have to be out of this place on the 30th which is in, what, thirty seconds?

my mind was doing an amazing job of staying heroically calm, but physically i was having a fucking meltdown. My heart was racing, my chest was tight, and my lungs were hardly working. i think i was drowing in adrenaline. I can really only compare it to the time I almost ODed at a house party at around 10AM while playing dominoes with a table full of hoodlums and this 40 year old crystal meth smoking woman who was a Domino master and kept shutting everyone down. There were mountains of yosh on tables everywhere and i never say no and then my chest started to seize up and i had to walk outside in the sun to calm down. mom, i'm sure these are the posts that you love.

after trying to tough it out for a few hours i made enough valerian tea to kill a mental ward and when that didn't work i ate a bottle of xanax. i think i'll just start with the xanax next time. I know my life is pretty fortunate, i don't have any kids, i'm not addicted to anything, i'm healthy, i don't have to work with Taylor from the Rachel Zoe project (god i hope it's the editing that makes her look like such a bitch or else she is seriously an EPIC cunt) etc, but shit is relative, you know what i mean?

anyway, today is going better.

ass so fat that you could see it from the front

2008-09-12T17:42:00.001-07:00

today is ass appreciation day.

how can you not love ass? seriously? i don't understand these dudes that are tit men. how can you NOT be an ass man? you can fake tits, eyes, nose, gender, etc...but you can not fake that ass.

for more of those lucky bitches who are clearly not american because america just doesn't manufacture the booty like that, check it check it out.

and your welcome for not posting the Baby Got Back video.

YES, KENDRA!

2008-09-11T19:31:00.000-07:00

KEEP THAT WIG ON FOREVER, GIRL.

damn.

you know what would be horrible?

2008-08-29T08:39:00.001-07:00

eating half a bowl of soup and then finding a roach in the bowl. Seriously! this hasn't happened to me, but i have a sort of obsession with the possibility lately so i inspect the shit out of my food now. living with roaches will change a bitch!

in other news, i just got back from DC and it was the usual dopeness, forgot the camera though so i only have these randoms of my homegirl and i out in Chelsea from the week before. that was a "dee needs to bite her tongue" night but i won't go into it. let's just say that i think it is all kinds of wrong to hit a woman in the face. who's with me? i thought so.

that night was also my first night out without a bra since the raver days. i always worry about the nipples, you know, dominating the scene. but they were hidden in the drapey shirt and actually braless is comfortable in ways that i never knew.

so we might be moving to new jersey. i know. but it makes sense for reasons that some day i'll be able to tell you about. but not now.

Right now the only thing you need to do is fly over to the Arab Parrot's joint and read about all the shit i'm glad i missed this year at Magic. Streetwear is fucking dead and i'm pretty sure japan, ed hardy, and gold foil done killed it.

Photo credit: obviously the Arab Parrot who is the only dude with enough balls to call out every wack ass motherfucker in Vegas. I love you Parrot, we would DEFinitely be best friends if you would just come back to New York. I'm two seconds away from calling the Smooth Operator line. xo

UPDATE! THIS HAPPENED AT MAGIC AND YET SOMEHOW THE WORLD FAILED TO IMPLODE UPON ITSELF IN A BLACK HOLE OF WHINY HIPSTER ANGST:

Steve Aoki and Jared Leto are so contrived and annoying that i guess i just figured the world couldn't handle it if they were to physically touch each other...like some kind of freaky wormhole would open up and all kinds of Jesus come early shit would go down. wait...that's kind of what Magic actually is. so i guess this makes sense after all.

IT'S LIKE I'M WALKING ON SUNSHINE!

2008-08-12T13:01:00.000-07:00

oh god, finding an Intervention i've never seen on youtube is the BEST feeling.

and did you all SEE this bitch?

oh man, fuck the chron, it's all about the duster. (I tried to make a joke involving sippin on some sizzur and dustur...didn't work.)

also, are you guys together with comic book loving dudes that continue to bring pens home from work every day even though you already have a pen mountain and a pen bowl and a bag full of pens on the dresser and three pen holders full of pens by the computer too oh my god we have so much in common! (p.s. i'm using the term "you guys" facetiously, don't worry, i fucking hate it when people say you guys.)

in other news, it was love at first sight with these sexy little domino polka dot phillies. and i got the bowl to contain a pile of stuff known as The Pile. me and my fucking pile. every apartment, every condo, every city i live in, i have a fucking pile of papers, bills, drawings, metro cards, receipts, etc. i'm a Piler. what can i say. it looks all neat and mod in this bowl though, so i don't feel as bad about it.

you know what else i'm feeling lately? dove gray nail polish.

that's all for the daily update from the workaholic never see the sun my hand is shaped like a mouse computer claw corner, tune it tomorrow for an even more random and less meaningful edition! (actually, probably not, because i'm going to be in drrty jersey for two days.)

LES photoshoot

2008-08-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

(i have completely exhausted myself mentally. please excuse me from actually writing stuff for at least another week. xoxo)

i was in a wedding in montana last week

2008-06-29T12:46:00.000-07:00

it was full of the most bad ass bitches EVER. usually when you put 9 girls who don't know each other together for a week there ends up being problems. or at least someone turns out to be psycho. or boring. but this group of girls were fucking crazy, hot, and hilarious.

there was a party barge, which is a dock with a motor. you can put whatever you want on it and float it around. we put 9 girls, a million margaritas, two rottweilers, and case of corona on it. it was rad. then we floated it to a lakehouse that can only be reached by boat (or party barge) and slept there for two days in bunk beds.

when you fall in a giant mudpuddle because you can't walk in the size 9 flip flops you had to borrow because your flip flops had a drunken blowout and came apart, it's best just to chill out for a minute and have a beer.

then see which finger fits best in your nostril. for me, it's my thumb, because i'm fucking italian like that.

if you were wondering what it looks like to live off patron and chips, here you go:

then we had the wedding, which was at a ranch, where i learned that boobs have at least one more use than i previously knew about.

(insert "look ma, no hands" joke here)

congratulations!

2008-06-16T11:21:00.001-07:00

55 years and finally married! go on wit your bad selves!

Along with six other women, they founded a San Francisco social club for lesbians, which evolved into the nation's first lesbian advocacy organization.

they still live together in the San Francisco house they bought as a couple in 1956. sigh.

2008-06-15T09:39:00.001-07:00

i just finished the longest graphic design project in the world. i wish i could show all three of you what i've been working on, but that info is proprietary and shit.

we decided to go to the new york aquarium for a little break from the computer. i was starting to get computer claw and hadn't seen the sun in a few weeks.

no, my sunglasses could not be bigger, thanks for asking.

the aquarium was really sad. all the fish seemed depressed, which is i guess what happens when you live on coney island. coney island is the lowest common denominator of new york. the percentage of pregnant teenagers, ancient couples pushing each other in wheel chairs, and fat people in tube tops is way out of control.

i didn't know that walruses were the size of minivans, but they are. this was a little one, i tried to take a picture of the big man walrus, but this family of derelicts wouldn't leave it alone and i didn't want them in the picture. i took a pic on the fake walrus instead. blubber beach, ya'll.

i always feel crazy when the jellyfish get tangled. i want to straighten that shit out, it seriously makes me insane. OCD much, dee?

the octopus had The Sadness, too. i think it knew it was destined to die in an algae covered cage on coney island. most aquariums are kind of scummy, obviously, but the nyc aquairium takes it to the next level. i wanted to scour the whole thing with bleach. either that or just fire bomb the entire area and start over.

wow, how hot can you make a 90 degree day on the beach?

i have never been so happy to get back on manhattan island in my entire life. the sad, faded desperation of coney island is pretty intense and you can only kill it with tequila and hot sauce.

wow...

2008-06-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

...really, nas?

and when did kelis start looking like Liza Minnelli?

chihuahua + 4mg nicorette =

2008-05-16T09:59:00.000-07:00

30 MINUTE DOG BONER!

post 227 ya'll!

2008-05-16T09:55:00.000-07:00

omg jackee

toxic roach city

2008-05-15T14:58:00.000-07:00

226 posts...feels like a lot more.

so i had to buy roach killer today. this is very hard for me because i was raised around a lot of zen buddhists and I have a hard time killing anything. when we were kids we were taught to flick mosquitos to knock them out instead of kill them (i only realized that was a joke on us much later.) the roach killer department has a lot of death options for the roaches.

quick kill formula
immediate kill formula for roaches and their eggs
kills quickly, keeps on killing
killing starts immediately, killing continues for up to 18 months
kill kill kill, with extra killing

i'm sorry roaches but you are fucking disgusting and i found three of you in the CLEAN dishwasher. you have to go. how the fuck did you get in there stop terrorizing me.

i just put the roach bait stations out and feel like i'm about to go into toxic shock i swear there is roach killing in my pores help me jesus help me tom cruise.

and speaking of tom cruise, did ya'll see when oprah went over to his freaky mansion in the mountains? jesus, tom, we get it already. fuck you and your pretentious monogrammed uggs. get over it america.

"not your regular 9 - 5"

2008-05-10T08:17:00.000-07:00

Clinician for head lice removal company- great pay, not your regular 9-5

Reply to: (see message body)
Date: 2008-05-07, 9:12PM

Train to be a clinician for a head lice removal company.
You get to meet new people, make your own hours, and work with a great staff. we will provide all the supplies needed for the job. This is a great opportunity for someone who does not want to be stuck behind a desk and likes a little adventure. Car not a must but appreciated-we will pay all expenses incurred.
Call Maxine at (xxx)629-5423

Principals only. Recruiters, please don't contact this job poster.
Phone calls about this job are ok.
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

(i'm so broke i might do this.) (just kidding.)

today is a nice day for food poisoning

2008-04-22T11:14:00.000-07:00

don't eat here, it may be campy as hell and have good $5 margaritas but they come with a side of food poisoning, just ask my friend Keith.

today is a gorgeous day.

there are two types of gorgeous days.

one type is the kind like today where the birds (okay, they are seagulls, which are annoying, but whatever) are out singing (squawking) and flying around in the sunshine which makes me happy and wish i was wake surfing in a bikini with a cold drink waiting for me in the boat.

the other kind is the kind where you wake up like a vampire at 2PM to a full-on sunny day in san francisco and you want to kill yourself because you were up since thursday doing coke in the mission and you feel like the worst person ever to set foot on the earth and your eyes can't adjust to the light when you are taking your walk of shame to the corner store to buy mac and cheese because you are broke and haven't eaten in three days and you need something immediately or you will pass out on the sidewalk and you walk by little kids on your way to the corner store and you silently yell at them "don't turn out like me!!!!" and then when you make it home and collapse immediately onto your bed which is really a pull-out couch you got at the thrift store on Post Street because you live in a studio and can't afford a futon and feel like a total loser.

Sometimes i get that total loser feeling by default just because it's sunny out.

but today isn't one of those days.

thanks to franki for the pic, it was great to see you. xoxo

THIS IS THE MOST DEPLORABLE THING I'VE EVER FUCKING SEEN.

2008-04-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

I just found out about this total and complete bullshit at satchel of gravel.

This dog was tied to a wire in a corner of a gallery and allowed to starve and die as ART. Because death and suffering are art now.

Starvation is art.

and to think that whole holocaust thing happened and no one was able to revel in the artistic glory because Guillermo Habacuc Vargas hadn't come along yet to show us the light.

And fuck all these people just chillin in the gallery eating canapes while this dog starves quietly in a corner.

Sign the petition!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Guillermo has actually been commissioned to do this again in 2008, sign the petition and repost the address and make a fucking big deal about this asshole. I think he should man up and tie himself to the wire in 2008. Now that shit would be art.

SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN SIGN
!!!!!

HNT starvation diet edition

2008-04-10T16:49:00.000-07:00

HHNT!

this little potbelly is all i have to live on for the next few weeks. wish me luck.

xo

dee

okay, fine, boobs too!

right now i'm at that magic level of brokeassness where i just don't give a fuck anymore.

2008-04-08T08:52:00.000-07:00

i've recently reached a new level of poverty. all the old college survival tips are back in effect.

stealing toilet paper, for example. and using old jam for sweetener in tea. i'm thinking about taking change in to buy 1/2 & 1/2 because tea isn't the same without 1/2 & 1/2 and it's especially not the same with jam instead of honey.

every last cent is sunk in the business. this will be funny one day when i look back and laugh about how broke i was when i was trying to get this shit off the ground. but it's really not funny now. if this goes on much longer i'll be forced to research ways to cook chihuahua.

(sleep with one eye open, homie)

YES!!!

2008-04-02T08:38:00.001-07:00

funniest shit ever. pun intended.

check yourself

2008-04-01T11:17:00.000-07:00

WHAT

THE

FUCK.

Where are these ferocious cotton 80's sweaters coming from? (and i do'nt mean ferocious like "ferosh!" i mean ferocious like they just brutally attacked my eyes with their gnashing hideosity.) I guess i understand shannon doherty's because she hasn't been famous since 90210 and is still probably clinging to her sexy 80's icon status, but Britney and Jennifer have no excuse. and don't even get me started on the Ugg boots. Ugg boots? seriously? you have more money than god, a personal trainer, a kick ass body, and a stylist, and this is the best you can do?

day off

2008-03-29T16:52:00.001-07:00

last evidence of the front bangs is below. fuck the front bangs, they got old QUICK.

i'm trying the side bangs for a while.

who cares? i don't know.
this is my paris hilton pose.

put that bitch on BLAST

2008-03-28T11:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Everyone,

This shit really blows my mind. Some crazy person (pictured at left...) with no self esteem and apparently no imagination has been reading my girl Franki's blog and then copying and pasting the entries into her own blog and fronting like she wrote them! What the fuck!?

Working in the fashion industry i see style biters all the time. Everyone knocks off everyone else's shit, and it's all in the name of seeing a trend and wanting to make fast money. Which is fucked up.

But taking actual blog entries and copying them into your own blog is an even more pathetic way to bite someone's style - diary style-biting. At the end of the day, the only point of a blog is to capture your day to day for antiquity. Maybe you blog so you can check it out in ten years and be reminded of what your life was like back in the day. Maybe you do it so you can make a few bucks on adsense. Maybe you do it because you like to write and you like the feedback from fellow bloggers. Maybe you just like the fucking attention. But the one thing about a blog is that it is YOUR OWN. So what's the fucking point of stealing blog entries...i'm guessing that this Chelsea bitch just likes the attention that a funny blog post garners, yet is too weak to actually write one herself.

Go here to see Franki's breakdown of the insanity.

So check Chels out and leave her your opinion. I'm hoping she'll extend an official apology to my homegirl. Fuck, I'm sure Franki would even write one for her to use!

xo

dee

p.s. Sorry for using your picture without permission, Chelsea, but I figured you probably wouldn't mind.

UPDATE: Frankie isn't the only one she stole posts from. I wonder if she had ANY original content...

UPDATED UPDATE: Riza just informed me that Chels deleted the blog.

i love me a lil parrot

2008-03-26T08:28:00.000-07:00

if i hadn't already met my soulmate i would think it was this dude:

i just read for days and days saying, i KNOW, me TOO!

"learn how to heal yourself and stop fuckin with the hospitals"

2008-03-25T09:27:00.000-07:00

I just read this article on truthnews.com and was horrified to find out that American hospitals in all 50 states take DNA samples of every new born and test "for 56 various genetic disorders and variants" and then keep the test results and genetic information in the state's records. You can opt out of this program by signing paperwork when you are admitted to the hospital while in labor, provided that you KNOW about the program in the first place. and even if you do opt out you have no guarantee that your child will not still be entered without your knowledge.

Up until now i was opting for the pussiest way of delivery (no pun intended) - a scheduled c-section. i'm afraid of labor. I'm afraid of stretching. and tearing. but i'm more afraid of my child's genetic information being kept in a government file somewhere just waiting to be reviewed and flagged by the Third Reich if god forbid there is something genetically wrong with my baby. yeah, so i'm a little paranoid. but not without good fucking reason.

anyway, i came across this insane shit while trying to psych myself up for the fact that i'm going to have to do the damn thing in my own home, unassisted by doctors, forceps, needles, drugs, rules, and of course, DNA snatchers.

i had no idea this shit was even possible:

yes, i know, this is my most paranoid and conspiracy theoretical (?) post ever. i'll post about celebrities and streetwear tomorrow.

can't get enough

2008-03-25T09:22:00.000-07:00

never mind, totally over it.

Hater's Ball Dot Com

2008-03-21T12:53:00.000-07:00

I pretty much mind my own business. If something really annoys me (like the tight sag) or i have to speak my mind about something (like smackheads having babies) then i do it. I mentioned a few months ago that this particular head named Shelley should probably try to stay sober since she was pregnant. i didn't judge her, i didn't say she was a whore (which she admits she is but who gives a fuck, that's her choice) and i didn't clown her lifestyle like most of the other anonymous bitches who only go to her site to hate on her. i just felt compelled to say Quit Fucking Drinking. Since then i have a stream of haters coming to my site to give me shit about my impromptu wedding. Here is the latest:

Anonymous said...

That whore Shelly is scum. I've red her before. It's also obnoxious to talk about expensive wedding rings. That is not something that makes you classy. Bragging about money is the opposite of class.

3/21/2008 3:54 AM

What the fuck? When did i mention how expensive my ring was or brag about money?

dee goldie said...

i wasn't bragging about how much the ring cost, anonymous. Cartier wedding rings aren't that expensive. if you took five minutes to read this fucking blog you'd realize that i live fucking POOR and HAVE NO MONEY. i never brag about money. i don't HAVE ANY.

i'm just saying that i don't know of any trailer park or white trash couples that bought their wedding rings at Cartier, that's all.

jesus, if you are going to say i'm not classy at least back that shit up with something real.

and it's "read" not "red". not being able to spell is the opposite of class.

3/21/2008 8:50 AM

WHY? WHY bring that negative bullshit to my blog, why talk more shit about Shelley, and why waste your time hating on me? My wedding was fun, but if i really had money and was trying to be classy you think i'd have the damn thing at CITY FUCKING HALL? and we'd go the THE W BAR for the reception? FUCK no. All i was saying is that when trailer trash decides to get married i'm pretty sure the first place they DON"T run to is Cartier on Fifth Ave.

finally a tight sag i don't hate

2008-02-27T16:26:00.001-08:00

the tight sag phenom is one of those things that i feel physical rage about. i've never seen someone killing kittens with red hot pokers, so i'm not positive, but i'm pretty sure that the tight sag brings up the same amount of rage as witnessing a kitten slaughter. like...i HATE it. i hate it like i hate racism. or kanye. it's pretentious, ignorant, and obnoxious. for real.

anyway, fuck yeah Satchel of Gravel, you showed me the way to tight sag.

biggie gone wild

2008-02-17T10:11:00.000-08:00

check out this insane tongue action.

now check out my gratuitous bang gallery:

bangs...yes? no?

2008-02-16T08:58:00.001-08:00

UPDATE!!! The Golden Child is on tv! Cable just made itself totally worth my money.

2008-02-09T08:02:00.000-08:00

So we got cable. I'm not a big fan of giving my hard earned money to mainstream media corporations...but it made the internet cheaper, and made getting a landline (which i need for the business) even cheaper, so we did it. Okay, fine, and I love intervention and they weren't updating the online episodes fast enough for my ravenous thirst for other people's addictions and fucked up lives. I guess through intervention i'm living vicariously what my life could have been like if i had an addictive personality. which i don't. except that i'm addicted to intervention.

anyway, what the fuck, cable? Orangutan Island??? We can't even use real humans for reality TV anymore? It really has come to the point where the obnoxious people on reality TV can be replaced with fucking orangutans and nobody cares/notices. i love it.

and what is worse, Orangutan Island, or Millionaire Matchmaker? Or is it really just the same shit?

I also thought this was funny--> Surprise in Diabetes Study: People with heart disease and diabetes may need to alter their habits. Seriously? That is such a breakthrough. Thank you, yahoo news. you are forever clearing up medical mysteries.

HHNT!

2008-02-07T09:21:00.000-08:00

i had a naughtier one but it felt a little too naughty...

in other, non-revolutionary news...

2008-02-06T13:00:00.000-08:00

...did you know they made carrots in this flavor?

congress, are you listening?

2008-02-01T15:20:00.000-08:00

the least our government can do is take care of the people willing to give their lives for America.

what the fuck?

2008-01-14T10:32:00.000-08:00

i think this is the sort of shit americans should get to VOTE on.

i, for one, am not down with selling weapons of mass destruction to Saudi Arabia. especially not when the Bush and Cheney families directly profit from Saudi weapons and oil sales. Doesn't anyone see the problem with this shit???

first of all, this guy is probably dead by now.

2008-01-09T19:24:00.000-08:00

second of all, WAKE THE FUCK UP AMERICA.

two things i just don't get

2008-01-07T21:35:00.001-08:00

don't get me wrong, i like long ass ghetto nails as much as the next chick, but there's a fucking line and fake toenails crosses it. fake toenails cross the line like fifteen times and then pee on the line's face.

and also mischa barton. i just don't see the appeal.

VA's in the House HNT

2008-01-04T09:29:00.001-08:00

I miss christmas and champagne in DC already and it hasn't even been a week since I've been home.

let me tell you about the best christmas present ever...

2008-01-02T12:43:00.001-08:00

it was a hand delivered letter from the US army stating that my soulmate/love of my life/other half is getting sent to iraq for a year.

(that's him. he's a fine ass man, i know.)

thanks GW, once again you have brightened my fucking day you worthless fucking bastard i hate you even more now than i did last week which i didn't even know was possible. and your timing couldn't have been better! i mean really, if you are going to ruin someone's life you might as well do it the day before christmas for maximum effect.

i'm going going back back...

2007-12-22T08:33:00.000-08:00

...to DC DC

i'm leaving for DC in a few hours. i haven't been back since i lived there. i can not fucking wait. i have been waiting for this day for six years. life is really strange. i love you, merry whatever it is ya'll celebrate around this time of year.

all my love

dee

2007-12-17T14:27:00.000-08:00

i went to the dentist today for the first time in 15 years. gross, some people say. if it ain't broke, don' fix it, i say.

except i guess it is broke.

pictured: teeth.

not pictured, two fillings from when i was six that need to be replaced.

also not pictured: the $3000 it will cost. (it's not pictured because it doesn't exist.)

also, did you know that the mercury in old fillings is treated as toxic waste? the dentist must seal them in a biohazard container and a special hazardous waste removal service comes for them. it is illegal for the dentist to allow dental hygienists to even touch the old fillings. yet still totally legal to put them in the mouth of a child who will absorb the toxic hazardous mercury for the rest of it's life.

so, yeah, good work american dental association. way to think that through. and the ADA also has this to say about mercury fillings:

"The silver-colored filling is not as natural looking as one that is tooth-colored"

so clearly they're on top of their game.

classic

2007-12-15T19:36:00.000-08:00

me: remember when val kilmer used to be hot? he was fine in Willow.

ket: weren't there ewoks in Willow?

me: ah, no. no there weren't. that was star wars.

ket: but i remember little creatures...weren't there small forest dwelling creatures or something?

me: yeah, those were midgets.

epmd is in my area

2007-12-13T13:44:00.000-08:00

da joint

rice hose

2007-12-11T14:14:00.000-08:00

i used to do this thing called working out. i'm too...what's that word where you can't pay attention and focus...distracted! to work out now.

my chihuahua has arthritis. i took him to the vet last week and she put him on 15 mg of tramadol once or twice a day. which is hilarious because i'm also on tramadol (as needed) and never more than 50mg at a time. i guess dogs have mad high tolerance for painkillers. i guess it wouldn't be cost effective to be a junky if you are a dog. i guess i've spent too much time working today or else i wouldn't have just written this entire retarded paragraph. anyway, i sewed him a velour rice bag that can go in the microwave because that helped my gramma when she had arthritis. it smells nice when it gets heated.

the other night we went to milon, also known as the most hilarious place in the world. it's kind of like eating indian food inside a christmas tree or a rave. after that we got drunk. after that we found a cab and nicole flung open the door and yelled "time to get the fuck out! " which is even more hilarious than having indian food in a christmas tree. the people in the cab weren't happy about it and a guy called us a bunch of names that i can't remember but included bitch, cunt, etc. then there was almost a fight, obviously, because you can't call girls names when there are protective men around, fuck you. and besides, nicole was right. it was time to get out.

then we came back to the apartment and the doberman had eaten the entire rice bag. 4 pounds of raw rice. 4 pounds of raw rice looks pretty similar to a hose shooting out ricewater when it gets explosively shit out of a doberman for the next 48 hours. just so you know.

xoxo,

dee

p.s. i love you too

when the shit jumps off you better be ready

2007-12-07T15:45:00.000-08:00

i guess i'm a little behind the times. i didn't realize that human cloning was a fucking reality. i'm not down with human cloning.

and another thing: absolutely not, American Government.

you will in no way put any kind of chip or tracking device in me, my children, or even my passport. and i'm not using the Amero. ever.

you are a bad person, let the fucking cat inside

2007-12-05T08:42:00.001-08:00

seriously, fuck you. why is today an outside day? let the damn cat in.

HHNT

2007-11-29T15:54:00.000-08:00

(thanks again anton. www.symobius.com)

tracksuit fucking heaven

2007-11-29T15:16:00.000-08:00

anyone who knows me know that nothing makes me happier than these things:

rescued chihuahuas

champagne

the hip hop music

hot toddies

organic gingerbread lattes

and of course, adidas tracksuits. and i just got two new ones. and i was going to do one of those little poll boxes asking who thought i should keep them both and who thought i should only keep the gold stripes. but then i wore them around for a minute and realized that choosing between the two would be like Sophie's Choice, so nevermind, i'm keeping these sweet little phillies.

i thought about editing out the above pot belly but decided i'm against censorship.

same with the forehead wrinkles.

i know it makes me sound shallow and...well, shallow, but i love new clothes. probably because i used to have a mullet and wear second hand prairie dresses.

guess what came in the mail today...

2007-11-28T18:30:00.001-08:00

The fucking box. i know, right?

The funny thing is, i don't even really care anymore. I'm happy that the box came and all my memories are safe, but i already grieved, cried, denied, got pissed, accepted it, and then got over it. the box came and i was like, huh, the box. funny.

i don't know if i am happy that the salvation army guy was a total fucking moron and was wrong, or if i'm pissed because the salvation army guy was a total fucking moron and made me go through the entire 5 Kubler-Goddamn-Ross stages of grief. and what's up with UPS? (you're not off the hook either, you bastards.) I called UPS to ask about the box and was told they had no record of it and said they never picked it up.

don't ask me how the box was delivered, i'm pretty sure it was either god or magic. just kidding, i know there's no god.

anyway, look what wasn't incinerated:

i was a DC raver. (the best kind.) (and don't ask how dom still looks hot in this pic after everything we went through that night.)

i had a fucking mullet. thanks, mom:

(the things we are eating with spoons are "popsicles". yeah, frozen juice in a tupperware. we were mad poor and shit. at least by this point we had running water and electricity.)

My Grandmother, in her happy place :

and what would i have done if this had been destroyed forever? it would have been straight up tragedy, right?

dee reviews beowulf.

2007-11-28T14:29:00.000-08:00

beowulf fucking sucks.

if i wanted to waste hours of my life watching medieval first person computer animated dragon battles i'd learn how to play World of Warcraft.

the end.

2007-11-16T12:05:00.001-08:00

this is the last remaining picture of my family.

all my family photos, baby pictures, photos of my grandma as i was taking care of her before she passed, the only photos of my grandfather, and every single old photo of my parents when they were young and still married were in a box that was supposed to be shipped to me but instead was picked up by the salvation army.

they just called to tell me that yes, they had the box that was taped up and addressed to me, and they know exactly where it is. it was opened and incinerated due to the fact that there was nothing of use inside.

i know that photographs are just things and things come and go, but in one single moment, the entire history of my life was incinerated and i feel like someone died.

i'll be your baby mama

2007-11-15T11:20:00.000-08:00

dear gucci booties,

you have made my wildest dreams come true. marry me. or at least see me on the side and get me pregnant so we can be bonded forever and i'll have your baby to use as emotional blackmail.

attention all other shoes
if you don't look like this:

i'm not interested.

fuck you juicy couture!

2007-11-15T11:12:00.000-08:00

quit assaulting us with your knocked off footwear!

no one wears you outside of rich idiots in the OC so there is NO WAY you need to produce a whole line of snowboots.

(unless your whole point is to piss off UGG boots by being the new retarded snowboot to wear with a mini skirt. if that's the case then keep on keeping on, sisters. welcome to the thunderdome, UGG.)

LET ME TELL YOU THE BEST JOKE EVER

2007-11-11T07:16:00.000-08:00

it goes like this: Phoenix Fashion Week.

don't think that's funny? that's because you weren't there. i just got back yesterday and i'm still recovering from the hilarity.

i tried to post pics but the slideshow was sneaky and wouldn't let me rip them. so go here and make sure you click "skip ad" at the bottom.

here are some rules:

1. get professional models. rich scottsdale high school girls are hot, but they are not models. they are too fat and unprofessional. and they are fucking stupid as all get out. and they get distracted by the male models, who aren't professional at all but at least are vain enough to work out. this is what happens when you try to find the right girl for the right outfit.

me: we need a different girl for this dress, this one's waist is too big.

model bursts into tears.

me: this other girl might work if she was wearing a bra.

new model puts dress on with no bra.

me: do you have a bra you could put on with that?

model: yeah. but i don't usually wear one.

model stares blankly.

me: but you do have one?

model: yeah, i have one. i just don't usually wear it.

me: i need you in a bra with that dress. Please put one on.

model stares blankly.

me: NEXT.

model bursts into tears.

2. DON'T USE THE TERM COUTURE UNLESS YOU HAVE A FRENCH LADY IN FRANCE HAND SEWING YOUR ONE-OF-A-KIND GARMENTS FOR A DESIGNATED BUYER WHO WILL PROBABLY WEAR IT UNDER A BIRKA IN SAUDI ARABIA. How many fucking times do we have to go over this? I heard so many people say "we are kind of couture". Fuck YOU. you either are couture, or you aren't. and trust me, you aren't.

3. If your entire line is the same polo shirt in different colorways and you don't have your own pants to send down the runway so you have to use True Religion jeans, don't waste our fucking time.

4. Have a rehearsal. seriously.

5. have more than one person who can fit garments with a needle and thread. guess who that one person was...yes, the same one who made the fat models cry.

(trust me, the list doesn't end here, but i'm tired and have work to do, so i'm going to cut it short.)

there were a few other highlights, including a male model who epitomized the attitude of all the male models there: he was a total asshole and had a set of giant angel wings tattooed on his back. if that doesn't say pretentious rich fuck, i don't know what does. get over yourself.

and don't even get me started on Scottsdale Fashion Weak. I mean Week. whatever.

this is the best you could do? *IMPORTANT UPDATES AT BOTTOM!

2007-11-01T16:34:00.001-07:00

about a month ago, i pointedly erased all celebrity gossip links from my bookmarks. i didn't like the fact that i really was entertained by the lives and outfits of people who, at the end of the day, are really just that: people.

who gives a fuck if mischa barton looks like a farmer in her retarded high waisted jeans? who cares if beyonce is so far from understanding fashion that she resorts to dressing like an acrobat? who cares if kate moss used to be a fine ass white girl and then crumbled into crackheadom? (okay, i kind of care about that one. it was a funny and well documented demise.)

anyway, the point is that i haven't been to perezhilton, dlisted, or the superficial for over a month and i feel pretty good. i'm taking it one day at a time. if i do have the urge to go to one of those sites i transfer the energy to something more productive and less mean, like cuteoverload.com which is like prozac. and i feel like i'm a better person for it. i was sort of raised buddhist, after all, and despite the fact that i'm a ravenous carnivore and i don't meditate, i like to stay true to the precepts.

but then i saw this picture. (on yahoo.com. it was a battle between paris and britney. who looked worse on halloween or something.) above it were links to the latest jena news, some iraq stuff, oj and his latest assault on the justice system, and some other shit that no one clicked on because holy fuck it's britney spears and paris hilton in a COSTUME BATTLE. here it is again.

more money than god, stylists, work out instructors, plastic surgery like a motherfucker, etc. and this retarded camouflage atrocity and this Frederick's of Hollywood/5 year old tap dance recital trainwreck are the best you can do?

i think britney wins because at least she made an attempt at a recognizable costume. if you look at her feet she's clearly trying to be dorothy from the wizard of oz. those are obviously ruby slippers. (granted she probably put them on by accident while trying to multitask railing coke, feeding her sons mountain dew and giving head. okay that was mean. i have no idea if she was giving head. see? this is what celebrity gossip does to you. i makes you assume things based on what people are wearing and it's totally unfair.)

that's all i have to say. i've already wasted enough of my life on this shit. i just couldn't let this one slide. i mean for fuck's sake, if your entire life is going to be about spending money on clothes and looking good, at least do it right.

in other news, guess who wears the pants in the apartment:

pussy.

*UPDATE! UPDATE!
she's a cat, not dorothy. my bad.

UPDATE AGAIN!
she's lolita. sorry for the misunderstanding.

i mean, wait, she's a...

...okay... yeah, i seriously have no idea where to go with this.

but i love how her handler in the back seat with the pink hair is like "seriously, would you stop encouraging her for fuck's sake???"
*UPDATE TWO! i can not make this shit up. paris hilton wore this, and i quote,"because the troops are having a hard time right now and they can't really celebrate halloween, so this is a little shout out to them."

it's shit like this that made me delete all my bookmarks in the first place.

oh biggie give me one more chance

2007-10-29T09:56:00.001-07:00

this is a boring post concerning boring details of my day. so if you get heinously bored, it's your own fault for reading, you've been warned.

2007-10-22T17:20:00.001-07:00

you know what i think is totally retarded? how fucking expensive trash cans are. seriously, why is it impossible to find something to put my trash in that doesn't cost $24.99? i know for a fact that the 25 bucks i'm about to spend on some trendy "Loft Collection" stainless steel trashcan could pay for a year's worth of food for the entire family of the eight year old girl in china that stamped it out in the factory that owns her until she pays her way out of slavery by making less stamping out trashcans than i do sketching a T shirt.

(i rock ruff and stuff)

and another thing, why can't i find limoncello glasses ANYwhere?

and also, if you are an up and coming fashion designer please take this rule and memorize it, follow it very carefully, and don't ever break it: DO NOT use silk chantung AT ALL. no one wears it, saks fifth avenue does NOT want to see it on a line sheet and you will look like a fashion student. the only exceptions to this rule are 1. if you are john galliano and are using 57 1/2 yards for a couture dress that will only see the light of day for 26 glorious seconds on the runway or 2. you are in the business of making the Matron of Honor dresses or other ceremonial garments including but not limited to Flower Girl dresses and My Bridesmaids Better Look Fucking Ugly Because This is MY Day So Help Me God Bridesmaid's dresses.

oh yeah, HHNT!

2007-10-18T11:52:00.000-07:00

haven't done this for a while. not posting tits anymore, i decided they private. I'll probably undecide this later. For now, hopefully half of my face on the train is good enough. you tell me.

it's been a minute

2007-10-17T14:16:00.000-07:00

this has been a crazy month. moved, broke up, went broke, felt free, felt stifled, you know, all the good contradictory shit.

Chapter One: Fuck You Nebraska

Nebraska is the absolute worst state in out great union. yes, even worse than Wyoming.

Breakfast in Nebraska goes like this:

Look at menu. Find that all items either contain ham, wheat or both. Try to make an omelet from the "make your own" section but find that the only "make your own" ingredients are different kinds of ham. Realize that you are the only one in the restaurant weighing less than 300 pounds. See obese parents feeding their obese kid chocolate chip waffles with ice cream for breakfast. Watch in horror as the waitress brings out a giant cookie tied to a helium balloon for dessert. Watch as fat kid chases dangling helium balloon cookie out of restaurant and think that there really isn't a joke worth making.

Chapter Two: Fuck you, Freelance Design

This chapter is basic and consists of one main lesson. When doing freelance design, it doesn't matter if you do better work than Tom Ford, have a contract, and enlist the mafia: you are not guaranteed a check.

Chapter Three: Doberman Pinscher Ass

This chapter is also very basic. It has one main lesson as well: The smell that comes out of a doberman's ass is unparalleled by any other smell, except, possibly, the smell of Colorado.

Chapter Four: Depressing Things

There are roaches in my new apartment.
I haven't been in the gym for over a month and have no booty.
This picture was in a nice frame in the ladies room of a gas station in Iowa:

for some reason, that shit depresses me more than i can even explain. i guess because someone out there actually thought they were doing a cool thing by taking the time to frame this leo dicaprio poster, you know, a little som'thin for the ladies.

Chapter Five: The Best Days of Your Life...

...are the days of ignorant bliss that come right before you realize you have roaches. The sad thing is, you always take these days for granted because you don't realize they are coming to an end early one morning when you lift up a teacup and see a god damn roach.

***The funny thing about this post is that it contains none of the real shit that has been happening lately. there is real shit, shit that i would write about if this was an anonymous blog, that is consuming my thoughts and is the reason i haven't been writing. i mean real shit besides the moving, flying, traveling, packing, unpacking, phone avoiding and non-stop text messaging that has also been taking up my time. whatever. anyway, i'm back.

That fucking guy.

2007-09-23T16:49:00.000-07:00

right now i have THAT roommate in this joint.

you know the one, he's the guy that left all your laundry in a wet pile on the washer because he wanted the dryer. the one that looks sheepish when you go for that last bottle of champagne in the fridge to find it gone. the one that asks if you want a hit off the pipe when he just packed a bowl with your weed. (i don't smoke weed but i've seen that move a thousand times.) the one that asks you for a ride 14 times a day when he could walk his bitch ass to the bus or take a cab. or worse, the one that hangs around the door to your room and says "wow, it sure would be dope if i had a ride to work...yeah, all i need is to find myself a ride to work..."

No, motherfucker. I will not drive you to work for the 8th time this week. why? because the only thing more annoying than a mooch is a HINTER. i hate fucking hinting. just turn around and ask me for a fucking ride, yo. (why you gotta treat me all inferior because i'm on the grill, B? daaamn.")

anyway, today, after he has gotten on my LAST nerve using my expensive-ass Whole Food Market laundry detergent and moving my wet laundry to the top of the washer AND using my cell 6 times (to try to get someone to cover his shift tonight! look, homie, the only thing going for you right now is the fact that you have a job so take yo broke ass to work and make that dough.) i go to the fridge to eat the pizza from yesterday. The box is gone. The four pieces of pizza, also gone.

WHAT THE FUCK.

i was in my room all day, all he had to do was fucking ASK if he could have the god damn pizza and i probably would have given to him. i'm allergic to wheat and i can only have the top anyway. But he fucking sneakily ate it behind my back and then shoved the empty box in the trash can.

so i called him out like everyone else in the house is too much of a pusschops to do.

me: did you eat the pizza in the fridge?

him: yeah. i probably shouldn't have done that, huh?

me: you need to check yourself when it comes to taking other people's shit in this house. it's kind of a trend with you and people are getting pissed.

him: i guess i should have asked...i'll try to figure out a way to fix it.

fix it? it's not a fucking broken lamp or a transmission, motherfucker!

me: don't worry about it, you just need to check yourself with the mooching.

then his ride to work gets here, and he says, "I won't be here to put your wet laundry in the dryer after mine, do you mind doing it?"

i don't know what i expected out of this guy. two of the MC's found him outside wallgreens, fresh from doing time for a DUI, trying to formulate a plan to kill himself. one of the MC's recognized him from rehab (from before the DUI apparently) and remembered that he wasn't that bad of a guy, so they saved his life and let him move in. his only family in the city had disowned him and he only had the shirt on his back, a piece of paper with his PO's number, and a half smoked cigarette. i can not make this shit up.

anyway, i guess it's good that he didn't kill himself. but damn, does he test my patience.

are you still reading this rambling post? i love you.

great story, compelling and rich

2007-09-22T19:41:00.000-07:00

just went into the roommate's room to pack some books that were in there. Laying on his bed is this crumpled High Society that i guess has been in the house for over a year. you know, passed around. there's two girls on the front doing the Naked Vagina Pyramid, a tricky and highly complicated move that you may or may not be aware of.

i just spent 3 hours painting over graffiti downstairs so the new roommate that got tricked into living here doesn't think she's moving in with a bunch of hip hop derelicts, which she is.

all i want is a glass of champagne but i drank it all last night while obsessing over Vice Do and Don'ts.

Kim Jong-il.

symobius strikes again...

2007-09-20T19:00:00.001-07:00

if they can make me look sweet and innocent, they can do anything, BET.
anton is a genuis, i can't say that enough today.

HHNT Four

2007-09-20T09:10:00.001-07:00

Atomic ACP Thirty Round American Slugs

2007-09-19T22:51:00.000-07:00

they got me in front of the camera.
www.symobius.com

you've got a great set of NEW YORK BOOBS!

2007-09-16T22:10:00.000-07:00

this post will consist mainly of grainy shitty cell phone pictures because i'm a busy woman and i don't always have time to get batteries for my camera. that's my assistant's job. but she doesn't exist. so i never have batteries. whatever.

here's me and my homie outside the worst fashion show ever. no disrespect to the people who busted their ass to put it on or to the girls who shook their ass in the show, but it fucking sucked.
(not pictured: the annoying ass line we had to stand in even though we were on the list. you know, the list.)

the only girl who can talk more shit than me. and look better doing it:

this next picture is ironic because it was taken about ten seconds before i blacked out for real. (get it? because it's almost black? god, no one gets irony anymore.)

i could write a whole post about the below pic. i'll simply list a few main points that would be involved if i had time to write a whole post:

1. avenue a.
2. socks. with platform flip-flops.
3. nitrous. oxide. balloons.

i need these things to fly:
(not picutred: bottle of xanax. also not pictured: the hot asian girl behind the bar that stole the chips for me. all my love, sweetcheeks.)

nicole and victoria beckham. for real for real.

and last but not least!!!! HBHNT!!! (the B stands for belated.)

i keep em knee deep.

2007-09-09T12:46:00.000-07:00

photoshoots are not glamorous. in case you were wondering.

if you needed a list of things that are not easy, i happen to have one right here:

1. finding someone to sublet a room in a house full of wily-ass MC's, especially when the room smells like sweat, 40oz malt liquor and has a smashed in door that doesn't shut from when this dude walked in on one of the MCs fucking his girlfriend.

2. getting people to call you back about the loft you want to rent in nyc.

3. being smart. cuz ignorance is bliss.

4. not charging those god damn chanel sunglasses to the AMEX.

5. looking at the AMEX bill.

6. looking at kanye in this fucking outfit without getting violent. david la chapelle, are you responsible for this? because if you are, fuck you.

(the only --and i mean ONLY-- good thing about this shot is the hot girl with the afro on the left.)

7. understanding how pete dougherty is still not in jail. don't they have laws in the UK? come on.

8. not vomiting while listening to your chihuahua obsessively lick its penis and dutch oven the room chihuahua style with it's breath for four hours . (i can only say biggie ENOUGH so many times before it loses effect.)

HNT # 2

2007-09-06T08:54:00.000-07:00

how can tits be wrong when they feel so right?

HHNT everyone!

and on the topic of ghetto fabulous...

2007-09-04T21:08:00.000-07:00

i don't have champagne, and i don't have any money. but i do have white wine and club soda...

watch out, ya'll, it's about to get mad classy up in this piece.

the $426 ceasar salad.

2007-09-03T14:58:00.001-07:00

also known as the worst fucking way to spend $426 ever.

ingredients:

1 drunk ass roommate
1 nasty ass 7-11 caesar salad
1 chihuahua who would eat itself to death given the chance
1 day off not spent at home. (the first day off in recent memory)

instructions:

1. preheat house to 100 degrees.

2. have drunken roommate buy some shitty food for himself in the middle of the night.

3. drunken roommate should pass out in bed in the middle of eating the gas station food. Allow most of it to fall to the floor.

4. make sure drunk ass roommate's door is not shut completely when he goes to work. important note: roommate must be too hung over to clean up food.

5. be completely oblivious to steps 1-4

6. take the day off and kick it by the pool with your girls. have champagne. think that all is right with the world.

7. come home at 10pm to a basketball shaped chihuahua. (chihuahua should be round enough to not be able to sit. poke with finger to see if done.)

8. rush chihuahua to the emergency vet. it is very important to be unaware of steps 1-4 or the $426 will not get spent.

9. wait in a panic in cold emergency office until 1:30 am while x-ray, blood tests, and various injections are given to chihuahua.

10. text all roommates to see if they fed anything to the chihuahua. be told no. (again, being told no is very important or end result could be ruined.)

11. have vet recommend inducing vomiting due to large, distended stomach visible in x-ray.

12. wait for chihuahua to vomit while pinched nerve in back goes off. avoid taking painkillers in vet's office or you may be referred to as that junky with the round chihuahua.

13. be told by the vet tech that your chihuahua is vomiting up piles of lettuce. think this is strange.

14. ten minutes later be told by vet tech that your chihuahua is vomiting up large chunks of unchewed, undigested chicken.

15. ten minutes later be asked by laughing her ass off vet tech if it is possible that your chihuahua was exposed to a large chicken ceasar salad because it is now vomiting up parmesan sprinkles.

16. pay $426 for three hours of emergency vet care.

finishing touch: go home and be told about steps 1-4 by drunk ass roommate, who says he wanted to say something earlier but was too much of a pussy.

serve at 2am with a glass of champagne, a xanax, and a sleeping mask.

i hate fergie

2007-09-01T17:20:00.000-07:00

last night: weird sexless orgy dream about some childhood friends, my aunt and uncle, and some other choice individuals that don't belong anywhere near my bed.

first thing this morning, before coffee: depressing email concerning someone i love very much

next thing this morning, after coffee: reply to email and be sad concerning someone i love very much

ENTIRE FUCKING DAY: stress about money.

now: hating on the black eyed peas for ruining themselves with fergie.

also now: wondering if i'm paranoid for being scared of my United flight into La Guardia on september 11.

later: realize the black eyed peas sucked before fergie.

right after that: go to gym
alternate right after that: drink wine, eat xanax

hangover city, population 1.

2007-08-31T12:05:00.000-07:00

hung over again. i can only speak in simple sentences. how is your day going. punctuation is too complicated for me. there will only be periods at the end of sentences. i have hangover retardation. i am starving. the roommates ate my leftover indian food. they are fuckers. i didn't adopt this puppy. it was very hard. the people selling it were selling them for meth money. gross.

this is what we did last night:

then i got up in the middle of the night and took two preemptive motrins and a xanax with a bottle of recharge. waking up on xanax is better than waking up with raging hangover. woke up with raging hangover anyway.

end of post. write more when not retarded. all hangover remedies will be accepted. please post them in comments.

HHNT!

2007-08-30T10:37:00.000-07:00

My first ever hhnt post. clearly tits were the right way to go. and i know, standing in the mirror was a good call. how else can you get 4 boobs from one person?

Thanks to wendy for inspiring me to join. (and not in a copycat/carrie sort of way, i mean for real.)

hangover.com

2007-08-29T13:13:00.000-07:00

usually indian food is my magical hangover cure, but not today. i thought it would heal me with it's usual benevolent power, but instead made my stomach feel like i just smoked crystal meth.

it is tricky, that palak paneer. one day it's the best thing for a hangover since xanax and the next day it's worse for your stomach than an eightball and a triple latte.

chanel orange blossom nail polish and adidas trackpants are also not a hangover cure, but they help.

these things were at yoga tonight:

2007-08-27T19:05:00.000-07:00

1. dog shit on someone's shoes right by my head
2. noxious cloud of antibacterial spray also right by my head.
3. fine ass black man behind the smoothie counter
4. grizzly adams looking dude in running shorts
5. my giant boobs all over the place in every mirror

2007-08-27T11:17:00.001-07:00

oh man, just when i think hip hop is dying a slow death while choking on techno hooks and being blinded by all-over-prints, i realize that Keith Murray, Common AND CL Smooth all have new joints out right now. thank god.

even though itunes classifies them as indie. indie. i guess they don't have a "foundation of hip hop" section.

whatever. i'm just glad that none of them have an ad on the radio shit talking the others about what they wear and how gangsta they are or are not. has anyone heard that commercial? where 50 cent campaigns you to buy his album and not kanye's because kanye pops his collar and hasn't been shot? oh man, i could really go into a rage about this. but i have work to do.

biggie smalls is the illest

2007-08-26T23:19:00.000-07:00

the thing that sucks about today is that i'm running low on xanax and i need that shit at night to knock me out because i live with a grip of aspiring MCs that make beats all night long. The "studio" is right beneath my room and the beats come up through the floor and make me want to flip out and get into some mushroom cloud laying motherfucker type shit.

remember opium?

where did that stuff go?

they say Afghanistan is making record amounts of that shit but i haven't seen any since like 1998. actually, really, it's time for someone to invent a new drug. doesn't that happen every 30 years or so? isn't it time something great got leaked from some government lab? someone needs to get in there and get to rearranging molecules because i'm sick of my options. coke is just pointless and frustrating, weed makes me go straight retarded, meth is...well it's fucking meth, acid is out of the picture at this point, and heroin is really a commitment. so that leaves a new drug. or opium.

also, i think my sarcasm is broken. too much west coast i guess.

and finally, i'm so insanely in love with my chihuahua right now. last night some annoying too much eyeliner wearing big tittied girls came over to see the MCs and one of them was really digging on biggie. she kept carrying him around and squishing him into her boobs. it's been almost 24 hours since then and he still smells like 2 dollar hooker but i'm so in love.

i'm serious about hating kanye

2007-08-25T22:08:00.001-07:00

and just wanted to repost my dear kanye letter because i just heard that wack ass techno song he's raping hip hop with and i'm pissed:

REPOST, from NOV 2006:

have to say, i'm actually kind of excited about finally being able to talk shit about Kanye West and have something non-subjective to back it up. I have always thought Kanye was wack, mostly because EVERY flow he has ever spit has exactly the same downward inflection which is fucking annoying. Plus his arrogance is actually visible in most pictures of him, kind of like Dr. Rey's gayness radiates from him on Dr. 90210. But I digress.

So Kanye doesn't win the best video award and by now we've already hear his pathetic ass quotes...but here they are again anyway, just for fun:

"Fuck dis! (My video) cost a million dollars, Pamela Anderson was in it, I was jumping across canyons and shit! If I don't win, the awards show loses credibility. Nothing against you (Justice and Simian, the award winners), but hell man."

Then he goes on to say:

"I haven't seen (the winning video). Possibly it could have been quite good but no way better than Touch The Sky. . That is complete bullshit, I paid a million. Obviously it's not all about the money, but the response it got transcended everything, it really made great TV. It took a month to film; I stood on a mountain; I flew a helicopter over Vegas. I did it to be the king of all videos and I wanted to walk home with that award."

Dear Kanye,
Spending money does not entitle you to awards. The point of Hip Hop is not spending money and being the king of videos. It's not flying in helicopters and trying to make good TV. In fact, it's the complete opposite. You aren't the "Savior of Hip Hop", Kanye, you are the direct cause of it's downfall. The Savior of Hip Hop will not be sponsored by Pepsi. End of fucking discussion.
Love,
Dee

the face of west nile

2007-08-24T18:39:00.001-07:00

there are a few tell-tale signs of west nile virus, including, apparently, fever, swollen glands, aching muscles, confusion, exhaustion, and looking like an 85 year old grandmother with perfect tits.

i also wanted to say

2007-08-23T19:01:00.000-07:00

that it sucks how crazy lauryn hill is.

yes:
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