you will never in a million years guess who i ran into at telepan.
nan taleese. nan ta-fucking-leese. can you fucking believe it? wait a minute, biotch, do you even know who nan taleese is? unless you have been living under a rock, of course you totally know who she is. she’s james fucking frey’s agent, yo. i know, right? like what an amazing opportunity for me to get involved in all this james frey controversy and like implement my clever plans to steer the tidal wave of publicity surrounding it towards me and my own career.
i was halfway through my $15.50 side of cauliflower and DJTM had just passed out in his nicoise salad with watercress. it was really gross. as he was lying there, there was this weird stuff coming out of his mouth or the garlic lemon poppyseed aioli dressing was just really close to his mouth and looked like it was coming out of it. whit had left the table under the auspices of going to the bathroom but was most likely chasing this aging model he’s been trying to make into my my next soon to be ex-stepmom. i don’t know what she’s playing hard to get for, she’s not going to do much better than whit.
anyways, i’m getting progressively more drunk and bored and was about to nudge DJTM awake so he could entertain me when i saw nan. she’s freaky lookin’ huh? what do you think her surgeon has done to her to make her look like a fetal alcohol syndrome victim rabbit hybrid? how could he do that to her and still be board certified?
so i go over to her table to tell her about my plan to restore james frey’s credibility and, in turn, boost my own publicity. but nan, bitch that she is, wouldn’t even give me the time of day. almost as soon as i start sharing my plan to turn the publicity wave back in her favor, she fucking tells me to contact her assistant and makes this weird expression at me that i guess was supposed to be some kind of polite fuckin’ don’t call me, i’ll call you grimace. so i totally grabbed her water glass out of her hand and went to smack her over the head with it, screaming all the while that i didn’t take that kind of shit from james frey so why did she think i was going to take it from her. but before i could bring the glass down, for the second friggin’ time this month, i was restrained by the wait staff.
then the police were called and i was shipped off to the slammer, blah blah blah.
DJTM and whit just picked me up and now we’re going home. i can’t believe that once again the highlight of the festivities is car-blogging. i really do have to come up with another name for that. especially if i’m going to spend so much time doing it.
boy oh boy, starryshiners, has this been a whack ass day or WHAT?
let me answer that for you:
it totally fucking has.
when last i typed at you, i was all searching my own personal memories of my time in rehab with disgraced writer, james frey. as you may recall, i was totally lamenting the lack of any anecdotes that portray him as a badass as i was hoping to gain some much needed publicity for myself by coming to his defense.
after realizing the conundrum i was in, i got totally depressed and took some extra prescription medication along with some recreational drugs that i won’t identify because they might incriminate me. then i started drinking and calling DJTM repeatedly and incessantly to get him to come home from his recording session.
when he finally got home, he brought fucking whit (my dad) with him and they insisted on doing an intervention on me. i was all, oh come on! this is like grade school all over again, dad! and this time there’ll be no james frey to beat up in rehab! whit got all emotional and exasperated and finally i was all, daddy, would you just have a drink and can we puhleeze talk about something else? i have that single malt you like so much, etc.
so finally he relents and has a couple cocktails and mellows out and is all where’re we going for dinner? of course DJTM was drinking the whole time, along with trips to the bathroom to do some other substance that he wasn’t sharing enough with me and that i, again, won’t identify on the grounds that it might incriminate him and me by association.
we called the car service and as i blog this to you, we’re all in the car on our way to telepan. they’ve got the best cauliflower in midtown there. all is right with the world at the moment. ive got my daddy and DJTM at my side. i’m going to be eating a $15.50 dish of cauliflower within the hour and i’m totally blogging in the car. i totally love blogging in the car. i think there should be a word for it. it should be like pod-casting but like car-blogging. except obviously it should be called something else.
OK so this whole disgraced writer debacle is really starting to work my last nerve. it’s like totally usurping all the rest of the celebrity gossip and irritating me to no end. news about my recent arrest is nowhere to be found and i completely blame james fucking frey for it. if the world wasn’t all abuzz with the news of what a panty-waste poser he is, more attention would be being paid to the things that really matter, like wrongful celebutante incarcerations and starlet asthma attacks.
i swear, that guy was a dick 12 years ago when we were in rehab together and he’s a dick now.
i’ll never forget the first time i saw him in our daily group therapy sessions. like all tony and elite rehabs, ours was in the middle of small town nowhere in a non-descript state that a person living in the fast and glamourous VIP lane would not have occasion to visit otherwise. as you can imagine, this caused quite a bit of stir-craziness and us inpatients had to find new and ingenious ways to amuse ourselves with our new clean and sober lifestyle. after the first few days i had pretty much had my fill of the usual distractions like intra-facility sexual escapades, drinking rubbing alcohol and calling my less party hearty girlfriends to solicit clean bottles of pee. and because i was so much younger then (in case you don’t remember the tabloid headlines, i was 11) i was quite a bit more ornery than i am now. i had a lot of like hyper manic tendencies because of the combination of the intense detoxification i was going through and my, at the time, undiagnosed ADD.
anyways, all of this would pretty much come to a head in the grueling group therapy sessions and i would often end up physically lashing out at the other patients. pretty much any other detoxing pre-teen would have done the same i think. i mean, the way they set up those folding metal chairs in a circle pretty much invites a physical confrontation. those chairs were just begging to be picked up and thrown at the person across the room and it’s not my fault if that dickhead james frey is all telling me to “hold on.” i mean, that’s his fault, that a chair wound up hitting him in the head and all the other patients ended up making fun of him for getting beat down by an eleven year old metal chair wielding girl.
i’m still not talking to DJTM because he still hasn’t bought me a new fendi. i even gave him the money to go get me one and he’s completely and totally ignoring me. true, he’s been asleep for the last 36 hours and therefore was probably not aware when i put the money in his back pocket but i think if he cared about our relationship he would get over this whole not being able to speak in complete sentences because he’s unconscious front he’s rockin’ and go get me a new fendi. but i guess relationships are like hard, y’know? so i’m being patient and nurturing myself while i wait for him to come around and see my side of things.
like today after i was done with my manicure, pilates workout and my post pilates medically induced purging treatment, i was surfing the net and went looking on the smoking gun to see if they had a picture of my mug shot from my recent arrest. they totally don’t have it yet but i found this article about this like disgraced writer that totally interested me.
now i bet you’re all wondering, starryshine, why in the f does this interest you in the slightest? what do you care about disgraced writers? you like don’t even like reading, remember?! but then i realized that just like that other disgraced writer, i totally know this disgraced writer. when i peeped his pic, i knew i knew him from somewhere, right? and then i realized that we were like totally in rehab together back in the go go 90’s. sheeyah! betcha didn’t know that, biotches, huh? i totally had to go to the ‘hab when i was like 11 and that’s where i met this particular disgraced writer.
it was this like really formative experience for me and i’ll totally type atcha’ about it on the b side, biotches, but right now i have to asta cos’ DJTM is FINALLY waking up. excuse me while i go and hit hit him on the head with my f-ed up fendi again. he needs to be reminded of his responsibilities. i’m tellin’ ya, it’s HARD WORK making relationships work.
as i’m sure you will remember, i totally don’t like reading books. i basically have no use for what i’m sure is a banal pastime in this modern age of tmobiles, TV movies, and glossy magazines with lots of pictures. however, in my frequent socializing with high society and the celebrity elite around and about new york city, i am often in the company of people who have not only read but who have also actually written books.
so i’m sure you can imagine my surprise when i saw that my literati glitterati homeboy jt leroy was outed as not actually existing. as you may recall, back in october (check the archives, biotch, cos’ i’m too lazy to link it), when accusations of JT’s unreality were being bandied about in the local rags, i not only had a moment during which i questioned my own existence but i also came to JT’s defense. but then i totally realized that me worrying about not being really real was actually just a result of over-doing it with the club drugs and that it’s important for me to make sure that ingesting recreational drugs doesn’t render me so fucked up that i won’t be responsible for taking my prescription medication when i’m supposed to or i’ll lose track of things like distance, time and spatial relationships.
that was a really important lesson. but not half as important as it is to make sure that when you french kiss a literary superstar, you better make sure that they’re not some literary hoax because apparently that’s par for the course with people who write books. mark my word, my dear little biotch, you will have to field emails from them for months about how much they want you to edit their books, even though you keep telling them that you don’t even like books as you attempt to continually steer the conversation back to the topic of lip gloss. you will ask them repeatedly, can we please just talk about lip gloss again? but they won’t listen to you.
as we get closer to the day of the live taping of the very starryshine celebrity christmas special, i find that i have more and more reasons to thank god than i would have thought i did. did you know that that’s what christmas is based on? did you know that christmas isn’t just about getting presents but that it’s origins are somehow involved with god? i know, right????!! you’re all like, who friggin knew?
anyways, some of the things i’m grateful for include but are not limited to my amazing fiancée, DJTM, my status as an emerging celebutante to be watched in ’06 and beyond, and last but certainly not least, the producer for the very starryshine christmas special, aaron di salvo. have i mentioned how great aaron is? he like completely takes care of me all the time and backs me up on all creative decisions.
after that executive decision came down about the network bringing in a co-host to “compliment miss price’s performance,” i was understandably pretty upset — especially after that whiney PA i tossed coffee on threatened to sue me. i was really feeling like the whole world was all against me and everything when aaron came to my private studio dressing room and gave me a back and gluteal massage that completely and totally relaxed me. then he offered me the like the coolest compromise ever — he said that DJTM and i could collaborate on a special christmas mix that will debut on the very starryshine christmas special! i was so excited that i didn’t even realize for a minute that i wasn’t wearing underwear and was actually totally naked below the waist. aaron told me that that was necessary for me to get the full effect of the massage experience. i was all, no biggie. honestly, i couldn’t even remember if i was wearing them to begin with when he walked in.
dear starryshine fan base, i am HUNGOVAH today. i feel like total dog doo doo. from this point on, you can’t say that i don’t care because clearly and totally, i do. i should be lying in bed with my fiancée nursing the various after effects of alcohol, etc but instead, because i care and i know how hard it is for you to go on without VIP all access to my innermost ramblings, i just had to tell you about the first meeting with the very starryshine christmas people at WB.
first of all, their celebrity seasonal development production head, aaron disalvo, is really hott. apparently, i first met him when he was in development over at MTV but i really only vaguely remember him because i was hardly the global enterprise that i am now and therefore didn’t need to be bothered to remember people, places and things — all stuff I have to do now, which is why god created tmobile. back then i was merely in discussions to play the win a date babe on score but now, by virtue of my reputation, i’ve managed to secure my own show. aaron has totally gone places as well in the meantime. i mean, i know what you’re thinking — you’re thinking, isn’t it a step down to go from MTV to the WB? my response would be not necessarily and like your opinion matters ANYWAYS because the odds are that you’re not even on TV. and even if you were, i don’t know that there’s anything intrinsically wrong with going from the pioneer video music channel to a 2nd rate “network” of sorts. a network which i LOVE, by the way. i totally already feel like a member of the WB family. aaron wouldn’t stop fussing over me the whole meeting — he kept gently rubbing my thigh when i was crossing and un-crossing my legs during some of the tenser moments in negotiations in regards to the creative control of the show. i really care about the direction this show takes, you know? i want a very starryshine christmas to show that i can take on all of the elements of a celebrity christmas special — the hosting, the christmas caroling, the christmas themed comedy skits, the whimsical joking with celebrities doing cameos in between christmas caroling and comedy skits — i just know i can do it all.
but apparently the network bigwigs have their concerns that i can pull it off. i couldn’t help wondering if that was an issue when celebutante #1 was in the picture. so i got a little upset and kind of stormed out of there but not really, unless you consider storming throwing a cup of coffee in a production assistant’s face in response to being told that during the opening monologue, i wouldn’t actually be doing any talking, but instead someone would be talking about me while i was standing there wearing a —
i don’t think there’s been a more eagerly awaited celebrity marital disintegration than nick and jessica’s. now that it’s finally officially official that they’ve split, i’m sure the world is speculating along with me as to who’s marriage will hit the skids next.
will it be tomcat? or bradgelina? or sienna and jude AGAIN?
i can tell you who it won’t be: me and my true love, DJTM. you wanna know how i know? becuz last night, in his own stoically masculinized man of few words way he proposed!!!
i wasn’t sure i could be more happy than i was when i was asked to walk the runway at last year’s sacrifichiamo fashion week party but DJTM’s proposal happily proves me wrong. unfortunately, as you may recall, my sacrifichiamo runway walk was ill fated due to matters that i can’t get into because really it will just ruin the comparison i’m trying to make, but the point is, i was virtually ecstatic upon being asked and i’m actually more ecstatic upon being asked something else another time.
it leaves me wondering what could possibly happen next that would make me even more elated! but i’m sure you’re wondering all about that special moment between me and DJTM. i really wish i could give you the details on that but unfortunately it’s not a very clear moment for me, or for DJTM. we crashed hard after partying on thanksgiving and when we woke up, i was all, remember when you asked me to marry you the other day/night/the last time we were awake? he grumbled something and nodded his head up.
so i said ok, let’s go ring shopping and he shrugged again. we should probably leave soon and get our ring shopping on but i just HAD to tell you! maybe we should also get matching ringtones for our tmobiles? wouldn’t that be CUTE? rings and ringtones?? god. i can’t wait to plan this wedding.
although i still can’t get ahold of sue to fire her ass, at least one good thing is coming to fruition and finally happening in the area of my career. DJTM and myself are all over the gossip colums and socialite blogs. i knew from the moment i met him that we were meant to be together but what i didn’t know is that we were going to turn into this like of the moment, celebutante power couple.
i mean, don’t get me wrong, i totally always knew that he had star power and this like in born rock solid charisma. it’s like he doesn’t have to ever actually say anything to make an impression (which is good, because he basically never does), he just exudes this like totally visceral confidence.
check out this tidbit from the columns (i won’t link becuz it’s just tacky to link to yourself on your own site, yo):
“It’s definitely been quite the week for socialite cum actress Starryshine Price and her new man about town, DJ Traxmarxx. First there was that late night bender that started uptown and ended in a loft over in the lower 50’s where the two were photographed leaving around 5:00 AM with what looked like matching glass pipes (not too mention glassy eyes). The very next night, forgoing sleep and good taste, the two showed up at a party at the Hard Rock Café where Miss Price danced on a table top (a la Paris Hilton), at one point tearing off her designer thong underpants and throwing them to a seemingly disinterested congregation of party-goers who simply let them drop to the floor. Her beau, on the other hand, sat in a corner looking above it all and enigmatic in a barely conscious way. This columnist asked him repeated questions about where and how he met Manhattan’s own Starryshine only to have all her inquiries rebuked with a cryptic smile, a one word answer or bemused shrug. Who is this mystery man? For the back story, read Miss Price’s indecorous blog. As you can see, Miss Price certainly thinks it’s true love but this columnist is going to hope for the best but plan for the worst. If true love isn’t, one things for sure though and that’s that Starryshine‘s social cache has gone up with her new handsomely intriguing piece of man candy.”
in case you were wondering, which clearly you are because you’re all about totally reading my blog right now, i am still in ibiza and i am still LOVING it.
and yet, i have to say that in spite of my love for all things ibiza, i am starting to miss manhattan big time. i’ve been peepin’ all my fave sites and even my not so fave ones just to get a vibe on all things NYC.
my not so fave ones include some of the wordier ones which is kind of annoying for me becuz as many of you (hopefully — if you adore me a sufficient amount) remember, i am not a huge fan of reading. now, mind you, i don’t have like anything against it (reading) but i don’t really like it either and i don’t feel like i really have to explain it to you so step off and just go read some boring ass political blog or something if you want me to like be all rationalizing about being a hater when it comes to reading.
anyways, while in the midst of me missing new york and trying out this whole reading thing so i would miss it less, i came across this article about mysterious literary personality, jt leroy. now, since you know i don’t much care for reading, you probably have also correctly guessed that i don’t really follow the career trajectories and personal dramas of literary personalities. except in this case because i totally know this guy.
but what really gets me all riled up about this is that it’s mostly intriguing because they’re like trying to say that he’s not real and that he’s just some invention by some whack ass self promotional writer somewhere. i guess you could say that that struck this like chord with me because even though i’ve totally met this guy out and about in the upper echelons of glamourous nyc society it kind of made me question like the nature of reality.
i mean, i’m totally real right? and jt’s totally real but we like have feelings and it made me realize that someone could spread the same kind of way obviously jealous, petty rumors about me. so then, i don’t know if it’s like all these crazy club drugs or what but i completely started to question my own reality, you know? like am i real? or did someone with their own self serving agenda just invent me? like what IS real anyways? then i realized that there’s no way that me and jt are like not real and that i have like the ultimate proof of our existence. you know why?
becuz i’m on the internet, AKA the information superhighway, biotch!
then i googled jt leroy and saw that he’s on the internet too and therefore totally real! so therefore as you can see, that pretty much settles that.
even though i’m in this state of far far away-ness (location as well as state of consciousness wise) from the jet-setting hullabaloo of my peers, i am apparently not far enough away to escape the clutches of the paris hilton/nicole richie fued.
in fact, i feel as though i must weigh in on where i stand in regards to their dispute. not only are my thoughts on the matter noteworthy and meriting of discussion but i’m sure they’re also pretty much eagerly anticipated by all those involved as well.
first of all let me say that i totally love and respect both nicole and paris. they have both done so much to raise awareness about celebutantes everywhere and plus they’re just totally great people who i would basically trust with my life. so i guess i’m just going to let you know what the pro’s and cons are with siding with paris and what the pro’s are in terms of siding with nicole. hopefully that will provide me with some much needed clarity about it all as well.
major pro of siding with paris: siding with paris could afford me the career opportunity of being nicole’s replacement on the simple life. this is enough of a pro that there’s no need to add any other pro’s.
major con of siding with paris: i will forever be known as her sidekick and not respected as a celebutante/heiress/model/actress in my own right.
major pro of siding with nicole: she is not anywhere near as pretty as me and therefore i will look better standing next to her than i would standing next to paris.
major con of siding with nicole: she’s like totally adopted AND she looks like an alien. this of course begs the question, where in the heck did lionel richie get her anyways? i think it’s a totally plausible theory that she is in fact a troll that he found under a bridge.
that said, i think i’ll have to go on record by saying that i can put my own pettiness and potential jealousies, etc. aside and side with paris. later for you, richie troll!
so it is all over between me and pete.
i kind of don’t want to talk about it because i am pretty heartbroken and wrecked over it.
i can’t eat, i can’t sleep.
i mean, it’s not like i normally do those things anyways, but if i wasn’t currently under the influence of several different varied class A chemicals that list not eating and sleeping as some of their common side effects, i would not be able to sleep or eat.
i really don’t want to talk about it. but on the other hand, maybe it might be kinda good for me to let it out and stuff, so here goes:
there i was, backstage at the babyshambles tuesday night gig and i saw him standing in the corner, all cute in that super wasted bloated kind of way, taking swigs from a bottle of vodka.
i sauntered up to him, like really truly irresistibly sauntered, you know? and then i did my best hair flip and looked him right in the eye and said, “gotta drink for me?”
what does he do? he totally spills the bottle all over me when he’s handing it to me and gets my new stella mcartney half shirt just totally covered in vodka.
i dunno what i was thinking but i just flipped out and tried to whack him on the head with it but my aim was off and i ended up hitting one of his entourage in the face. now where i come from, if you hit a member of someone’s entourage in the face with a broken or about to be broken bottle, it’s completely and totally forgiveable, right? i mean, COME ON! but that did not seem to be good enough for this crowd and i was unceremoniously shown the back door to back stage!
i then had to walk ALL THE WAY around to the front of that fucking dive club to get into my car service which broke my heart even more than i thought was possible because i am not used to walking more than three steps in the heels i was wearing.
so anyways, yeah. totally heartbroken and barely able to deal, c’est moi right now.
you know what i’m going to do? i’m going to take care of myself, you know? i am fully going to a rave in ibiza with some eurotrash hoochies who were part of my entourage last summer in midtown. and they’re TOTALLY the kind of entourage that can take a bottle to the face and keep on partying in the background BIG TIME! i hope people don’t get all uptight about the bottle in the face dealio in ibiza because i am thinking that it might be more constructive to take my hurt feelings out on others than to continue beating myself up over it.
keep me in your prayers, n’kay? peace out.