Welcome to downtown Los Angeles. I guess I will tell the story of Rabwa because I can write whatever I want and the five people that read probably won't even comment and that puts me at ease. When I was in college I would eat an entire pint of ice cream covered in instant coffee and then stay up all night reading and writing at warped fucking speed. Nowadays, I be better off putting adderal and coffee beans into a coffee grinder and eating that shit whole. This has nothing to do with Rabwa and I am not sure what point I am getting at.

I think no one really gets to know me until they have seen me piss drunk. Not because turning into Elizabeth Taylor is the real me, but succumbing to the fact that I am a tyrant in front of another human being is a completely humbling experience & I therefore am left with no choice but to share who I really am with them. I guess this is a good excuse for the fact that I was drunk non-stop for a year, right?

Today I was stalking people on myspace like a good contemporary American when I stumbled upon the profile belonging to some erroneous attractive guy--THIS IS A GROWN MAN. A GROWN MAN THAT IS HANDSOME AS HELL & HIS MYSPACE SONG IS SET A DRIFT ON MEMORY by PM DAWN. I can never lust over him ever again. I can however bookmark his profile and if ever there is not enough gay in my life I can click on said link and the power of Richard Simmons & John Waters will revive me via this miraculous poetry to the ears.

Speaking of super gay, when my sister used to do makeup this pre-op tranny that worked the Benefit counter told her being Italian she has thicker hair follicles and the best way to shave her legs would be to douse her legs in baby oil and then use a man's razor to shave. On my birthday we ran into this man/woman at lunch. I told Gia, "Do you think that woman knows her boyfriend is gay?" Gia paused and sort of tilted her head to really give the situation some thought and finally said, "Uh, that woman is a man. She is the person that taught us how to really shave our legs. Everything I know about being a woman I've learned from men.

Men probably are the stronger, smarter gender. However, I am the fairer sex. SEX SEX SEX. I think that is the optimal word. Go ahead and be stronger, smarter and for that matter more logical. I'll win merely via the power of XX chromosome and my ability to smear sex appeal all over a room like it is a canvas and I am Jackson Pollack. Drunk & disorderly.

Rabwa. The night I met Todd I took a friend of mine out to get over breaking up with her Ex. Instead of being a good friend I immediately set up house with Todd and decided I liked that he smelled like man & sweat. I am ruled by Dionysian desire & fueled by my inner fire. At some point the night was over and I was attempting to put my name and number into Todd's phone when my motor skills died and in the same moment I handed my sister the phone to figure it out, Todd went to kiss me. Like a suspension bridge in a storm, I was jolted on all fronts as my sister flashed the screen of the phone at me and said RABWA? Which is what I'd saved my name as--while this was going on Todd took my face in his hands. I opened my mouth very widely to laugh and it ended up looking like Todd was going to suck out my life force succubus style instead of kiss me. RABWA. That's me.