373: the lyin’, the b*tch, and the wardrobe

A. Responses for Anonymous

1.get out of your blogger depression already!

I think the blogger depression is pretty much over. I’ve got other things to worry about, like the guy who said he wanted to buy Maria’s futon but has flaked on picking it up for the last two nights. The sketchy neighbor guys who drink beer at 11 in the morning (okay, it was Saturday, but still — they looked shifty) behind the building while I’m trying to do my laundry. Also, groceries. I need to buy groceries this weekend.

2. my friend elizabeth saw you the other night walking on damen, probably on your way to hot choc. she would have said hi but was whizzing by in a cab. i almost ran out to meet you in my pj’s… but didn’t want you to think you had a freaky stalker…

What other kind of stalker is there?

Seriously, I think everybody stalks a little. Maybe stalk is too strong a word — maybe investigate. I’ve investigated lots of people (yay Google! yay Friendster!), who all fall into one of the following categories:

  1. boys I used to have gigantic crushes on
  2. boys I still have gigantic crushes on
  3. people I hated back in college
  4. candidates for induction into the Secret Celebrity Boyfriend Club (can I just say that researching Craig Parker was the most interesting as he’s the only one who was in any of the “The Lord of the Rings” movies and a lot of his fan sites carry all sorts of “controversial” content? oh yeah, I already did in the last flip front).

I’ve come to the conclusion that I spend a lot of freakin’ time looking people up that I haven’t seen or communicated with in years, if at all. I mean, who really cares about that guy I hooked up with fall quarter of first year? Okay, maybe I do a little.

If you had run out in your PJ’s, I would have done two things:

  1. Thanked you for reading the flip front.
  2. Silently and quickly evaluated the fashion forwardness of your sleepwear.
  3. Asked you if you thought I was wearing too much eye shadow.
  4. Asked you to join me and Jacalyn (I’m guessing this was Friday night about two weeks ago) for dessert.

I can’t imagine I’d be wigged out if you had run up. I mean, how much harm can a person do in their pajamas anyway? Of course, as soon as I typed that last sentence, the name “Lorena Bobbit” popped up in my head.

3. please rent Top Gun this weekend! i can’t believe you haven’t seen it yet!

Yeah, you and and my friend Matt. I think I’ve seen enough clips in those shows on VH1 that talk about how awesome the 80s were that I’ve got a fair idea of what the movie is about:

  • Tom Cruise is a pilot. So is that dude from ‘ER’ and the guy who played Jim Morrison in ‘The Doors’.
  • The guy from ‘ER’ dies.
  • There is a hot lady shrink who dates Tom Cruise.
  • At some point, people sing “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”.
  • Lest I forget, lots of homoerotic sexual tension hidden, just barely, by camaraderie and friendly rivalry.
  • Berlin closes the movie with “Take My Breath Away”

Is that about right?

4. i can’t believe you got a personal comment from perez. that’s too cool.

Perez Hilton is my hero. If I could be a gay man, it would be him. Well, him or Paul Lynde. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha.

5. i’m confused. did you move into your friend maria’s place? i hope she lives in the same hood because you’re practically celebrity-siting material…

Oh really? You shouldn’t tell me stuff like this because I totally believe it to be true. Yes, I am a celebrity. This week US Weekly will finally publish those paparazzi shots of me looking like a slag whilst I do my laundry, check the mail for my security deposit from my old landlady, and play with the dogs who live with the well-groomed yuppie types who live in my neighborhood.

6. speaking of celebrities, were you dying with all the news yesterday? i’d like your comments on a) nick & jess, b) HoHan, c) TomKat, d) brit & fed’s sex tape…

Oh my god, are you kidding? Yesterday was, like, the greatest day evah. Maybe not for those fools but for me because I am all about celebrity shame. My middle name is Schadenfreude.

  1. Nick & Jessica: Oh they are so over already. I can see them sticking it out for a few more weeks, but Papa Joe’s got the gravy train pulling out of the station, and Nick Lachey ain’t on it. I hear he is going to be a model for Aberhonky & Bitch — noice!
  2. HoHan: More disturbing than the machinations in motion to promote her own career are the efforts she has been making on behalf of her younger siblings. It’s like when teens have to be in school or working or otherwise engaged in useful pursuits in order to live rent-free under their parents’ roofs (or under the roof of whichever sibling is making the most money). If those young’ns are not for her or for themselves, then they must be for the enemy, which in this case would be the paparazzi, Hilary Duff, Ashlee Simpson, and Hilary Duff’s teeth (in that order). I think it’s a bit preposterous to assume that the Lohan name gets you ahead in show business. I mean, who does she think they are — the Culkins?
  3. TomKat: I think they make the baby Jesus cry. I think that when the baby is born, it will be birthed in a special Scientology centre. And as the biological spawn of Tom, their most visible and ardent celebrity practitioner, you just know there’s gonna be some weird-ass ceremony involving the hordes chanting “One of us! One of us!” while the baby squirms on a dais. Shit, I bet his kids with Nicole are furious (less attention from weird Daddy) yet strangely relieved (mum is not a Scientologist, so they have a chance at growing up as normally as one can when your parents are super-famous and your dad won’t give you meds to calm you down when you realize that YOU ARE THE KID OF TOM CRUISE).
  4. Team Cheeto (aka Brit, Fed, and the baby) and the latest entry into the saturated market of celebrity home sex videos: I’m reading reports that it’s actually quite bad. What that means, I’m not sure. Are we talking the narrative is weak and unstructured, and that the performances seem insincere? Those reports often include the same jokes about cheetos, Whiskey, and . . . well, that’s pretty much it. I won’t say that I’m particularly hot to see this particular production — I’m sure I’ll stumble across it whether I want to or not. What I want to talk about is that commercial for Fantasy, her new fragrance. So is that really K-Fed scampering about the forest with a bow and arrow? How fucked up is it that her lines go something like “She was beautiful, and he couldn’t help himself.” I mean, how fucked up and date rapey is that? A brilliant recap of the commercial can be found in the TWoP forums here.

B. Everything else

9/30: Rented a pickup to get the last of my stuff over to the new apartment. Frank drove. I made an effort to wash all the blinds then went home and slept.

10/1:

* Molly arrives in a cute-ass SUV. She is super nice and funny.

* Kathy comes over to hang out while Molly moves her stuff in and I make a half-assed effort at cleaning.

* Andrew’s birthday dinner at Pegasus in Greektown. I am wrong about the time and we show up 30 minutes late. Fortunately, the other folks were just drinking and dinner was not delayed. At some point, Molly leans over and says “I think we should have a party.” Did she read my mind? We decide that a Halloween party is in order. Guests must dress as someone who died in a famous or otherwise compromising way. Kathy’s pledged to come as Cleopatra, and I’m waffling between Elvis Presley and Michael Hutchence. Andrew was all huggy and happy (I think that might have been the ouzo) at the restaurant, and then afterwards at the neat wine bar.

10/2: Accompany Kathy and Adrienne to Aurora outlets to provide fashion advice. I buy a truly tittylicious dark green top. Kathy scores all manner of lovely pants for work, and a purse! A purse! I think Adrienne scored, too, though I don’t remember where exactly. We leave just it begins to rain. We don’t quite stay ahead, as we stopped at The Clubhouse in Oak Brook to eat a late lunch. We inhaled all manner of delicious meat and fried potatoes as a ginormous thunderstorm beat down so hard that we couldn’t see out the window to the parking lot.

Later that evening, we hung around and watched “Rome”, and then “Extras”. I think “Rome” has a new fan in Kathy, as she just about fell out when Titus Pullo, having escorted young Octavian to his first sexual encounter at a fancy brothel, says to the madam “She’d better fuck like Helen of Troy with her ass on fire.”

Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Cheers,
Jasmine

PS: If you have anything to the contribute to the care package I’m sending to Lil’ Kim, get it to me by the end of next week.

*songs*
The Cure – Friday I’m In Love; The Buzzcocks – Autonomy Huey Lewis & the News – Heart and Soul; M.I.A. – Galang; Rufus – You Got the Love

*links*
Lil’ Kim’s new address
Weinstein’s Wholesale Meats

*lipstick*
NARS lip lacquer in Bewitched (10/4 and 10/5)
NARS lip lacquer in Butterfield 8 (10/6)

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~ by Jasmine on October 6, 2005.

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