Oh look, now that I have handed in my behemouth (read: three times my usual word limit) article on my favourite band for Pulp (and I hope you’ve already gone out and bought the one with Zach Braff on the cover, cos it’s got about six things I wrote in it, and I’d really like you to, kthanx), I have some headspace to devote to my own website. Of course that doesn’t actually mean I have much to say, besides the usual rants and raves about being lonely.
I miss flatting with friends. My house is nice and all, but y’know, I just don’t get no hugs. And I really like hugs. I do get snuggles though from my very clever brave hunter who caught his first mouse yesterday and brought it inside to his food plate before I realised what was happening and threw it outside – where he proceeded to joyfully toss it up and down and around and around. How come killing things is so damn cute? And in other questions I want to know the answer to: which of you guys is it running Oh The Scandal? I’m recognising more than a few of those stories…
Last Saturday night I went to a party at Karen’s apartment. It was her flatmate’s masquerade 19th birthday, and as such, it was full of young gay boys and skinny fag hag girls who work in retail. I dressed up as a pirate – no one else did, which made me laugh. Needless to say the music was pretty
fucking hideous, but Karen and I just sat on the couch drinking bellinis and mocking so it was alright. Some of the people were lovely – I got accosted by a guy who works behind the MAC counter who told me to come in and get some decent brushes so that my eye makeup wouldn’t be so clumpy (I tried explaining that it was from the 100 yen store in Tokyo ten years ago), and also suggested I should start wearing individual false eyelashes – to which I replied that I don’t generally even comb my hair before I leave the house. Ahh well. He told me that I shook my booty much better than anyone else there – which is of course totally true.
In forty minutes or so we have work drinks to farewell Kristen. I’m anticipating not feeling very well tomorrow, as is generally the case after drinking at work. Speaking of work drinks, let me start another rant about how much I’m hating men lately. For starters, there’s all the stupid people on myspace.com who want to be my ‘friend’ without knowing anythign about me at all other than what was my favourite picture of my nipples. Then there’s the guy at Zebos last Sunday night, who looked like JeremE. Now, we were there for our work Xmas party, so it was pretty early, like 9pm or so, on a Sunday, let me remind you, so there was no real drunken-end-of-night excuse. Anyways, I went to the bar to get some more drinks and this guy started going “oh, vodka lime and soda, you have to be careful of that drink”. Now see, vls is a drink that I absolutely can’t get drunk on, so I’m like, you fucking pussy, and then he started going on about how I should try a rum, lime and soda, and so I was like “but rum comes back to get me the next day” and he was like “but it’s nice” and me being nice figured I’d just smile and nod and be friendly, so I was like “and I guess the good thing about drinking rum is that you get to pretend you’re a pirate” and he just gave me a totally blank look, so I was like right, doesn’t like pirates and there’s a cute lovely boy in the other room who I want to get back to, this guy isn’t going to get much more of my time of day. He asked how my night was going and I said we were having a work party for the magazine and he was like “oh you guys have been going for a couple of years now haven’t you?” and I was like “ummm, yeah, 73” (although actually I think it’s 64) and he asked me what I did and I said I was the advertising manager and he was like “ooh you could make thousands of dollars” like seriously, and I was like “well it’s (such&such) media, so yes, I do literally make thousands of dollars – and that’s it” and then I couldn’t take it anymore so I left. Dick. Okay, so he was mostly harmless, but I’m just annoyed because why the fuck can’t someone decent take a shine to me for once? I have witty sparkling wit and charm to share. Y’know? Sheesh. All I’m asking for is a pash.