I actually made this for one person, but I am such a magnificent giver that I figure FUCK IT all you idiots deserve a copy. Here in Los Angeles it is a fortifiable summertime and I am milking it for everything it is worth, regardless if the nights are still cool. After five to fifty-five drinks it's all the same anyways. So feel free to give my mix a listen and memo me regarding how badly it sucks.

Speaking of sucking, I went out the other night and it was like a fucking post modern episode of the Twilight Zone. I am not even kidding. Everytime I thought OH, IT CANNOT GET ANY WEIRDER. It just got so much weirder. First of all, we end up at this bar where I witnessed the drunkest human being ever. And he comes up to my sister and I and he tries to tell me that his friend across the bar has a lot of money and I should talk to him. While he is saying this some other people across the bar are pointing and making gestures like OH HE IS YOUR PROBLEM NOW! So of course I scream IN 10 MINUTES HE WILL NEVER COME BACK OVER HERE AGAIN. GET READY!

So Douchey MCDouchebag turns to my sister and starts asking her this exact question and maybe you can help to decode it because it was like talking to the genetic illegitimate mutation of Paula Abdul and The Riddler. "So, how would be feel--you boyfriend--if there was a jam band and you had to reckon?" I mean, we think it was a question, but we'll never know for sure. He asked that like 37-times and we were still confused because Jam Bands are tricky like that, but we eventually deduced that he thought she was a porn star or something.

So Gia goes to the bathroom and I sit there with him. He puts his arm around me but then starts to rub the chick next to me and finally I turn to him and am like, WILL YOU JUST FUCK OFF I AM SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR SHIT. And then he tried to walk away but fell over and demanded another drink. I admire him for his intent to continue drinking, but he was eventually kicked out of the bar and shortly thereafter we left. As we were walking out this Australian weirdo starts talking to my sister and asks us for a ride around the corner and because I like to take chances I agree to give him one. As he is getting out of the car you can see him panic and he is like I HAVE HALF A JOINT UPSTAIRS IF YOU GUYS WANT SOME. Uh, I guess I'll pass since you just said your place used to be a crack house and is generally sketchy. Thanks though.

This is about the time things went fucking bonkers. We wanted to go to this shishi diner, but they closed early and I needed coffee and a short moment of contemplation before I had to drive. Mostly because I don't like DUIs, but partially because I wanted to talk. Our two options are Denny's and Norm's. If you're not from L.A. you don't quite get the trashy majestic that's Norm's, but I have been kicked out of there for starting a fight and demanding that Norm show up and stick his dick in me, so that option was out. Off to Denny's we go.

As we're parking my sister is like MAN, I SHOULD HAVE JUST GOTTEN HIGH WITH THAT CREEPY DUDE. When we get out of the car these two dudes are like HEY LADIES, WANNA GET HIGH. I felt like I was in an episode of South Park with Towlie. At any rate, I didn't even smoke and we went into the restaurant. This is how I know for sure I wasn't going out of my mind. We get seated in the epicenter of crazy4.0 and the trouble begins immediately. Those guys move over to a table filled with outrageous drunks and one girl leans over to talk to another and headbuts her in a way that causes blood to gush out of the second girls face. Had it been during a prize fight it would have had to be stopped because that bitch was a bleeder.

I start bragging to my sister that she missed the best part and begin going through the menu, APPLE PIE--I GUESS I'LL NEVER EAT THIS AGAIN. MOONS OVER MYHAMMY IN MY ASSHOLE. And other various comments like this. As I am saying them, the creepy gypsy child in the next booth stares and me and says the same thing that I am saying right after I say it and I am like WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. What I don't know till later is that her mother, sitting back-to-back with my sister turns and says ARGENTINA for no fucking reason. Then they get up and leave.

Directly across from us is a homeless man my sister begins calling Mr. Miyagi and a woman that is probably homeless, but in her thrift store suit eating a burger and mostly staring into space. As we get our food I decide to say DENNY'S IS FILLED WITH INSANE POSSIBILITIES. I GUESS WE SHOULD COME HERE MORE OFTEN. Immediately after I said that I wanted to take the words back. The busisness smart homeless lady turns to me and tells me my hair is very cute and asks me if I know the place next to the Hotel Carmel. I've been to the Hotel Carmel, and it is alright, but I don't know of what place she's talking about, but I bet it is a hostel. I tell her to JUST STAY AT THE CARMEL, IT IS PRETTY ALRIGHT. Knowing she is going to ask me if she can crash at my joint next. Before she can keep speaking Mr. Miyagi passes out, slamming his face on the table.

The gears shift more as Business Chic Betty tries to keep up conversation as two very drunk women walk into Denny's and say things like GET MY STEAK RIGHT--I SAID MEDIUM RARE. Yea, medium-rare, cause they give a shit cause this is DENNY'S. Ugh, so said drunk chicks start talking to us and one leans over and asks if she can have Gia's toast and we are like SURE. Then she takes a bite and gives it back to Gia. Around this point is when Gia is like WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I GET INDICTED FOR MURDER BY REASON OF INSANITY.

Holy shit, I just had a drunk flashback, and I better hurry up and write it before I forget or fall asleep. Last week, when I went wild at Erika's birthday, there were these douchebags that had a band. I would say their terrible band name here, but then one day they would search it and be like WE ARE NOT A TERRIBLE BAND! And maybe they are not totally terrible, but I just listened to 30 seconds of their most downloaded song on iTunes and I think it is pretty bad and people have hired me to review music so I guess that makes me a fucking expert on the matter. Your 33 Black Angeles sucks dick. I guess the part where I do not say their name is over and I can move on with the story.


I guess I got stuck talking to one of the band members. I probably talked to each and everyone of them by the end of the night including their super creepy manager. At some point, I was sick of hearing they played SXSW and was like MAN, I JUST WANT TO CLOSE MY FUCKING TAB. Then one of them sort of poked at me like I was a caged animal in the petting zoo and I turned around and was like, "You guys should play at the Mutiny." For everyone other than Mandy and Erin this will not be hilarious. The Mutiny is this shitty bar down the street from Erin that is owned by this guy named Ed that is like everyone's dad that happens to be a serial rapist who looks like Herman Munster. I wish I was making this up. Anyways, Ed will let any band play. I mean, I have heard some of the worst music on earth there and no one will be like GOD, THIS SHIT IS TERRIBLE because bad music is just something you sign up for. I could send my little sister in there to ask to perform and by the end of the night she'd have a drink in her hand while she spoke-sang some lyrics she made up along the way and she is 8-years-old.


So when I first tell this guy he should play The Mutiny he is like YEA, DO YOU KNOW SOMEONE THERE I CAN GET IN TOUCH WITH? And I have to be an asshole and I say, YEA, ASK FOR ED. IT'S IN CHICAGO AND I AM PRETTY SURE HE LETS ANY IDIOT WITH A VOICE AND SOME INSTRUMENTS PLAY ON HIS CREEPY MAKESHIFT STAGE. Sad face ensues and I go home. I guess this is an entire waste of time for most of you morons that will never visit The Mutiny.


I on the other hand will be there in a weeks time pimping free drinks and trying to have sex in their phone booth because I am trashy like that. Your consolation prize can be the lame pictures of my sister and friend Katie making faces while I photograph myself without a bra on in the mirror to see if I am fat or FAT. P.S. I love the way my tattoos creep out of my pants. That's class ladies and gents.

These picture posts are fucking with my general blogging mojo because I feel like I spend more time talking about what's happening in the photos than I do coming up with a cohesive ditty that has some sort of point, which ties into a bigger idea or something. Anyways, today was Easter and I woke up with a hangover that I knew was not going to end anytime soon. At 11pm I was still contemplating suicide. Amazing.
Easter in Los Angeles is great because it means going to the beach and looking around at all the other good looking people and scowling at the ugly/fat/people clearly not from L.A. and hoping they understand that they have to leave before they fuck up the entire scope of things. I wanted to share this moment with people but my sister spent today with her boyfriend because he's leaving to go back to Argentina tomorrow afternoon (Monday). I wonder if she is going crazy or if she'll wait to go insane till after he is gone.
Once I got home I got to play Easter with my two favorite people, my dog-son and my little sister and they wanted to play and I wanted to drink arsenic if it promised to make me stop feeling like I was going to puke. At some point I fell asleep on the couch for a couple of hours and never got to the work I was supposed to do this weekend because I am a piece of trash loser.

The beach is looking so fucking fab these days that I've decided to divide my time between coffee houses in Hollywood and Malibu. I really need to figure out some sort of stupid schedule and stick with it because I waste so much time when I am writing at home. I have been sitting here for like 4 hours and watching Law & Order and Charmed. And before you judge me on the Charmed thing, Julian McMahon plays some sort of smarmy demon and he has a beard in the episode I am watching right now and he is hot as fucking hell. Thank god he quit this stupid show to become Christian Troy and give me something to get off to for-fucking-ever.

I am probably going to buy a Smart Car. I mean, what the fuck do I need with a stupid giant volvo? Don't get me wrong, I love that car, but I think the new convertible Smart Car is so fucking cute and gas efficient and I want it. I will have that car within the next six months. Then I will take the top down and drive around the beach and listen to the GoGos and mock Belinda Carslie by doing blow and fucking a lot of dudes. Gosh, somethings never change.
Here is probably the worst looking photo of me I can find. Parts of the makeup from the night before is still on my face and the rest of me is a complete and total hot mess. I need to stop furrowing my brow before I need to start getting botox like next month. I woke up at the Viceroy hotel and I am pretty sure I might remember parts of getting there and room service because I woke up and called them for a pot of coffee and a pitcher of orange juice. Then I went back to bed and woke up again at like noon. Then I walked for like three miles in the sun while mostly thinking about how terrible I looked.

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Oh my pretty little pets.  I've neglected you dearly.  To be honest these past couple of weeks have been trying to say the least and then my dog broke his dick yesterday and I about went bonkerinos because I realized the gravity of the situation right as I was getting ready to leave the house to go and check out how fucking drunk my sister was.  This lead to me being the best looking person at the emergency pet clinic at 10p.m. on St. Patrick's Day.  But yea, my dog broke his dick and I would love to explain the situation, but I am trying to shop the story around and I'd rather make money off of it rather than amuse you guys for three more minutes because sadly, you do not pay my bills.  Not that it exactly pays the bills either, but I guess it's a stepping stone in the right direction. 

Before my dog broke his dick I was drunk a bunch of times and I pee'd on the hood of a strangers car.  I am not sure that I even had a problem with said stranger or their car other than somehow I got it into my head to piss on a red car and theirs was the red car in the vicinity.  I also pointed out to a man that he had an ugly, pointy chin and to his face said YOU WERE BORN WITH THAT CHIN, YOU KNOW WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE SO YOU CANNOT BE MAD ABOUT IT.  I also did a lot of other things that are typical of what I am like when I decide to be a monster while drinking.  

My best friend is also in town right now.  It is weird because she is almost a fully functioning adult, but still does things like an 11-year-old.  I know she will never read this, but sometimes it is shocking to me that she will be one of the top 10% wealthiest people no matter what she does because of who she is, but she is like a train wreck.  Well, one that has derailed and somehow managed to get back on the tracks and start chugging a long.  She had to talk to one of my sister's who will probably read this and I am alright by that.  This sister went absolutely insane and ran off with her 27-year-old creepshow boyfriend for like a week then she lost her job and had to come crawling back home because a week vacation is all she needed anyways.  She's 18 and it is the sort of thing you come to expect from someone that needs to be medicated and reacts first and thinks later.  IF YOU ARE READING THIS PLEASE COME TO ME FOR HELP BECAUSE I TOO HAVE GONE ABSOLUTELY INSANE AND AM WILLING TO GET YOU THE HELP YOU NEED.  Other than that, there isn't much more I can say and she refuses to talk to me about it because I treat her like a case worker I guess.  Besides all these things, things have been awesome and I have been having a great time trying to pick up my running even though my knee is sort of crappy.

One of the most terrible things that can happen is when you go on a date with some dude that you are not even interested in, but you figure why not?  Then he is like I AM GOING TO SHOW YOU OFF TO ALL MY FRIENDS.  And this is fine too because once you decide to go MIA he will have to explain that you are an evil fucking bitch that never returns his calls.  It becomes better than fine once he is like THIS IS MY FRIEND BLAHBLAH and you look at that dude and you are like WHOA, I WOULD LIKE TO BONE YOUR FRIEND BLAHBLAH AND I WOULD LIKE TO BONE HIM TONIGHT.  Then suddenly you stop acting annoyed and you are like LET'S HAVE A PARTY HERE WITH YOUR FRIENDS.  Or even worse you decide to invite them all to the bar with you where you spend all your time putting the full-court-press on the super cute friend that is nerdy and blonde and then you're like HEY, I WANT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING ON THE COMPUTER.  DO YOU HAVE ONE?  And you're doing this while the idiot you came with is at the other end of the bar with his other friends and they're all looking at you like you are the whore-bitch of the century and you have to wait and see if BLAHBLAH is an even more terrible friend than you are a date.  Since he is a man, he almost always will be and then you go back to his place where you are like OH, CAN WE HAVE ANOTHER DRINK and while he is in the kitchen you follow him all coyly and then you start making out and he fucks you on his kitchen floor.  When it's over you are like THANKS MAN.  And then you get up and go home like a respectable slut should.  Nine times out of ten the dude you were on the date with originally will call you the next day and be like WHAT HAPPENED and you can be like OH, I WASNT FEELING WELL SO I WENT HOME.  And his friend will not argue with that story cause he knows if you come around again he is getting laid.  Man, I love men.

BEST THING EVER. "I'm gonna babysit your vagina" and "The backseats big enough you can perform an abortion in it. Which comes in pretty handy when you perform as many abortions as I do, which is A LOT!  Because I love them." And finally:

W.A.: "Check it out! It's a sex machine,"  

"Uh, that looks like it's gonna hurt?"  

W.A.:  "That just means it's working.  I'm gonna live forever!" 

Oh man, I am so hot for Will Arnett and his dirty mouth.

I guess I owe a blog post.  Too bad I have been incredibly busy revisiting my alcoholism to sit around typing shit here.  Amazingly enough, I think my sister made a brilliant point.  I just fucking hate the winter and the cold days so I never go out.  The second that the days start getting longer and the sun is shining like mad I am drunk all the time.  I guess I would be sober all the time if I lived in Antarctica.  Anyways, Melissa tagged me in this stupid meme or whatever the fuck it is called and basically I have to answer six secrets about me or something.  At least that's what I think I am supposed to do.  Too bad I didn't really pay attention and am going to do it my own way.

1. I do not plan to live past 30.  I didn't plan to live past 25.  I bet I am going to live forever cause I am not planning for the future since I decided I don't even want one.


2. I have an undying love for Christmas music and listen to it mostly when I am in the car or getting ready to go out.  Nothing says PUMPED UP like a little Alvin and the Chipmunks.


3. I got hit by a car three weeks ago when I was crossing the street and the dude nearly took my arm off, but I kicked the side of his fucking Lexus so hard at the same time that he had a huge dent and he was apologizing to me.  


4. I have an eating disorder.  I am a compulsive over-eater.  When I get stressed out I just sit and eat and if I wasn't so entirely lazy I would puke it up.  Later on I starve myself to manage this.  This is not a cry for help.  People that really need help are not honest about shit like this.  You wanted honest.  This is it.


5. I never do blow in LA.  Pretty much ever.  Not cause I do not like it, but because it is sort of cliche to be that girl from Los Angeles that doesn't have a real job that parties 24-7 and is geeked out of her mind all the fucking time.  If I'm in your city, it's an entirely different issue and I am probably going to be fucked up the entire time because I am on social hiatus.


6. I have a sister that I am pretty sure needs to be committed to a 72-hour lockup, but my parents are too proud to have her wrapped up in the looney bin.  I probably needed it at her age too, but everyone ignored me because my grades were pretty decent and I locked myself in my bedroom.  Oh, teen angst, how I do not miss you.

I guess I will tag Erin and Mandy.

I guess I will write this up as a short story eventually, but for now I will just go ahead and explain to you the dream I had last night because it included sex with Daniel Day Lewis, Nick Swordson and the fact that white people were eliminated from society.  Maybe it was American people.  In all honesty it was fucking confusing.  It was the future and American people were world-wide outlaws and because I am always down to live on the edge I was hiding in a containment unit behind Daniel Day Lewis's apartment.  It was all very, Diary of Anne Frank, and these creepy floating robo cops would come by every so often to check and see if any intruders were around and this is when I would go and hide in my area.  For whatever reason I had to share a bathroom with Daniel Day Lewis and the details are sort of fuzzy, but like one would imagine that man has some insane hygiene issues.  I guess I decide to bring them up while we are both in the bathroom and we begin fighting.  It is hot as hell cause he is in a towel and I am like BLAH, BLAH, BLAH. I AM A KNOW-IT-ALL AMERICAN.  BLAH, BLAH, YOU ARE DANIEL PLAINVILLE AND YOU DRINK MY MILKSHAKE.  Then he grabs me by the neck and shoves me into the wall because all things awesome begin with a huge fight and then quickly move to super intense sex.  This is where I get to tell you that in my dreams Daniel Day Lewis's dick size is average at best and I was like OH, YOU'RE CIRCUMCISED, THIS IS SURPRISING.  Anyways, our super loud fucking alerted the authorities because he's supposed to be living alone since his wife died and we have to escape out a window and into an alley or something.  I guess this could be a subversive short-story about the end of America's legacy.  Then again, it could just be a really insane dream where I get to have hate-sex with Daniel Day Lewis.  

I was just watching this and I realized that it is absolutely indicative of most nights where I party as hard as possible. That part where the apple pie trees come to life--I HAD THAT HAPPEN ONCE AFTER DOWNING A KLONOPIN COCKTAIL AND THEN DRINKING HALF A BOTTLE OF VODKA. Granted, the happy/scary apple pie tree people are probably some Heroin Chic rockstars I know that are like, "Whoa, you are out of your fucking mind! What you need is some blow!" Yes, things can get better. Anyways, This entire McDonalds commercial reminds me of mescaline and that feeling you get after you're about to puke all over everyone and then suddenly their faces melt off and they are all wearing animal masks and you accept the fact that your best friend just turned into Splinter from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Let's face it, how could that be so wrong? That cartoon theme song was pretty much the best thing I have ever heard and I still listen to it on my ipod while driving in LA traffic, peeping into surrounding cars and looking for a swank piece of ass to flirt with.

When the evil Shredder attacks,
these turtle boys don't cut him no slack.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (x2)

Splinter taught them to be Ninja teens.
He's a radical rat
Leonard leads, Donatello does machines,
That's a fact Jack
Raphael is cool but rude,
Gimme a break!
Michaelangelo is a party dude!
Uh, yea. I dare you to defy me by explaining how that is not the best theme song of all time. I also dare you to justify how this entire post sounds like I spent the last two days chomping down on pain killers when I am out and have been entirely too lazy to visit a real doctor.

I have been up for a while since I decided I was above sleeping.  I am not sure everyone understands the problem with "feeling more important than..." but it can get you into all sorts of trouble.  Last night for instance, I felt more important than sleeping to rest my body and now I am a zombie.  Last week, I felt more important being center of attention than telling my brother's friend he could keep trying to make plans with me on the daily, but I will never show up, even if I promise to.  Tomorrow I will feel more important than something I cannot even name, but I bet it will cause me lie in bed and get nothing done.  Too bad I cannot feel more important than all of my super productive friends and then I can be all I ever dreamed.  On that note, I cannot remember if I ever dreamed of becoming anything at all.  In all honesty from as earliest memory I only wanted to be reading and after a while it dawned on me that I could probably write things that were more interesting.  Still, I cannot claim that to be a dream, but mostly just a matter of fact cause here we are.

God, I am supposed to be taking this miraculous time off to reevaluate my life and better myself, or whatever. Since I screwed my knee up I have been doing these terrible exercise videos. Usually I tivo them via the fitness network and now my ass and core are sore non-stop in an entirely new way. That could have been a dirty joke. I guess I will point it out since most people are fucking morons. Anyways, I've been looking for new writing gigs and I may have found one. It seems like my sort of thing. You know what else is my sort of thing? Staying up till 6am because I noticed that Law & Order: SVU starts at that time and I will never get enough Law & Order in my fucking life.

So I have a few things to write and instead of focusing Daniel-son, I spent my entire Saturday night watching Season 1 of Nip/Tuck. I guess I will reward myself with season 2 after I get some shit done like solving the nationwide female genital mutilation crisis. Speaking of that, consider yourself lamed out by a video of my youngest sister dancing in pajamas while singing along to Abba. Yes, please be aware that pedophiles everywhere will be tantalized by her major dancing moves which appear to be the same ones I like to use when I am fucking wasted. Anyways, now it is almost 7am and the sun is up and the guys at the SVU nabbed another murdering rapist just like I figured they would. Unlike the regular old fashioned murdering rapists I read about and the ones these douches capture, these idiots are caught almost every time. Oh, and whatever happened to the Ted Bundy sort of good looking rapists? Jesus, even on television all the sex offenders look like Brian Peppers. Someone needs to start casting some really hot looking sexual predators cause those are the ones I like to daydream about.