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.
so this whole kate moss celeb quelle scandale thingie is just going on and on like a never-ending bag of really good blow. in some ways, it’s totally entertaining and i for one, have been fully glued to the internet for the latest developments. mostly, i’m like totally at a loss by it all in an entirely mystified like i can’t believe this is such a big deal kind of way, right?
but I’m also experiencing all of this like totally acute sympathy for kate moss. yes. i know. believe me — i totally know how weird that is. like why should ANYONE feel sorry for a supermodel, you know? but when you think about it, a HAM (heiress/model/actress) like myself is probably one of the only people who can understand, you know? like there’s probably only 20 other people in the world who can fully relate to her dealio right now, you know? there’s like the other nine super models in the world and then there’s me and the other 9 HAM’s out there.
so anyways, i fully feel you, kate.
i mean, she’s getting all this publicity, right? but it’s coming at quite a cost. she had to like break up with her hottie bad boy boyfriend and she’s fully going to have to quit partying and i don’t think i need to go into detail about how much that’s going to super suck! then she’s going to have to like go on oprah or larry king live or one of those other meet the great unwashed talk shows and like demonstrate that she’s given up her artificially enhanced lifestyle choices and how great life is now that she’s all clean and sober and how she can’t believe that she was once so self-destructive but that now she like looks into her ____________’s eyes (insert child, lover, cat, tivo into blank) and how utterly and totally complete that makes her feel and how that’s like the BEST high in the world (when really we all know she was fully doing lines of E or something in the green room before the show started ANYWAYS).
now in some ways, that will be kind of cool because the publicity will be to die for, but in most ways it’s just going to be really boring and certainly won’t be as much fun as blatantly partying with rock stars.
sugar is still being a total fag about me saying that opposing gay marriage is totally gay. she won’t talk to me, except when she absolutely has to. like the other day i totally needed her to schedule my bi-monthly backdoor Brazilian and she was being totally bitchy about it.
She was all, “girl, if you and i are still not back on free and easy speaking terms, you cannot expect me to schedule a follicle cleansing of your most private of privates.”
it totally bummed me out. (OMIGOD! i so didn’t mean for that to sound like it sounded but it’s kinda funnee, huh? if you don’t think so, go and get over yourself ‘cos it totally IS funnee and you’re just hell of uptight).
i just rolled my eyes at her which she didn’t see because – you’re so not going to believe this — but she actually did a talk to the hand sign at me.
i know, right? the most cliché Oprah cum fagola maneuver of all time. plus it’s totally played. talking to the hand is as outmoded as giving someone the finger. i’m much more into making a peace sign with each hand and then flicking my hands up underneath the bottom of my chin. now there’s a hand gesture that’s hip AND defiant!
as you can see, this attitude of her’s is totally getting in the way of her work. pretty soon she’s going to have to talk to me because aside from needing to schedule my L.A. trip next week and all the meetings i have there, i so have to talk to her about what’s going on with my boy scene affairs of the heart type matters right now. i mean, i’m really confused and it’s not like i don’t have other people to talk to about it (i DO have my homegirls after all) but sugar listens to me like no one else does. she’s the only person i know who is completely aware of my schedule and all the stuff i have to do and places i have to be so she knows me completely for who i am – down to the depths of my very soul. not to mention that because she is paid to attend to my every career and lifestyle need 24/7, she can be completely present for me like no one else can.
so, therefore, as you can see, this has to stop.