Monday, June 30, 2008

PS - We all knew that Miami 3 wasn't happening, so quit your whining. It involved a sunrise massage overlooking the ocean and the near strangulation of my father. I am currently making butt-love to my Hermes belt, though.

It's Britney, bitch

Dude, it's so not Britney. Did you really think it was? Consider yourself pwn'ed mothahfuckahhhhhhhh. Seriously, the only thing that Britney and I have in common is a cheap weave and an obligation for child support.

Updating in the summer is hard, yo! I'd love to say that this is because I'm off frolicking my ass off in some goddamn meadow with a sensitive satyr who has become my lover, but alas and alack, this is not so.

I have, however, been getting up to some good shit.

For starters I am obsessed - OBSESSED - with Kathy Griffin. Yes, I realize that my frequent declarations of obsession for strong, funny women that could easily be drag queens falls into the category of gay stereotype, but you know what? I can't fight it. I'm not made of stone, people. Men aren't funny. End of story. This bitch talking smack about Lindsay Lohan is. (Side note: FireFox just tagged the word 'Lohan' as not in the dictionary. Like Don McLean, I inquire as to when these people will learn. Lohan will live forever. Right click. Add to dictionary)

Little known fact: I've actually met Kathy Griffin. For shiz. During my summer in Montreal, my ampley-bossom buddy and I went to see her at a club for Just For Laughs. Afterwards, we loitered around hoping to catch a glimpse, busing tables, smoking butts, etc. and when the security said we had to leave, we made a mad dash around him to the stage door, whereupon the lady with the face so tight met us with passive enthusiasm. There's still a photo floating around my apartment somewhere., but I still remember the feeling of my hand on her waste, inadvertently stroking her poly-blend black top.

That's kind of the biggest news. Otherwise, I went on a ten-day tour with Chai, which could have been a Bravo special had it been at all interesting. I nearly took out half the singers at one point, such was my rage. God bless the portable DVD player, as it was the only thing that stood between me and Chomocide. (Michael Park, that one was for you.)

I've also started seeing someone, though since day one I've just been waiting for it to end, fatalist that I am. We've fallen into this nice pattern where we see each, two days go by, I get anxious and screw someone else, his roommate calls me and tells me lies about infidelity, gang wars are started and then we cuddle. It's all very sweet. Seriously, it's probably gonna end in about 23 minutes.