i'm through dining, i'm dead inside

"How many times can I go to Mr. Chow's?... Tao's?... Nobu?..."
- "Success" Jay-Z featuring Nas

Yes, I sound like an ingrate fuckhead. Sigh, this is what happens in this LA.
My friend group, peers, associations, whatever- We frequent the same 6 restaurants 6 nights/week. We all are foodies, appreciate the service, etc, etc...

The creepy part is when "dates" enter this life. (Ref.-Our own dates OR the fresh-off-of-the-boat-"models" that our friends are trying to impress). Real quick-like, a wonderful dining experience turns into a real fuckin' creep-attack.

I’ll make a list of problematic scenarios:
1. DATE TEXTS: "Hey- why don't you and some girlfriends me and my partners at Koi, Mr.Chow, Polo Lounge, etc..."
1A- ...Because we are adults who needn't bring a ho train to dates?
1B-...Because your partners are either too married/too creepy/ too nerdy to invite their own company?

2. FRIEND TEXTS: "I invited some girls to dinner"
2A-Child models are a FUCKING DRAG to dine with!
2b-They don't eat.
2c-They want to pour free/without-a-fake-ID-to-go-to-club booze down their throats into their empty stomachs.
2d-They say stupid shit.
2e-They miss all of our jokes/humor.

3. Double date-"Rich off'
3A.Spending 10 grand for a four person meal for show-off bullshit is such a drag. WHO is impressed with the finest caviar, lobster, foie gras, and truffles AND Thousand dollar bottles of wine, etc... in ONE SITTING?
3B. I love dates. I love rich food. but, this particular behavior is beyond. Excessive.

love-strategist jem girlfriend

half-brained ducks in a row

When ducks stand in a line to sleep, the ones on the far left side leave their left cortex awake, so that they can keep their left eye open to look for killers. The ducks on the right do the same with their right side and right peeper. And dude, the ones in the middle get to totally sleep. Yeah, really.

This is the model for my friendships in LA. Even when we are half-brained/half-asleep, i want my friends to be LOOKING out. And if i get to be that middle lucky duck, totally asleep, i really need to lean on my row to tell me the score.

"Do NOT go home with that dude. He leases that Benz with every cent to his name and is gonna take you to his studio apartment on Fountain with filthy beige carpet and fucked up mini-blinds. He is trying to get you to leave early 'cuz his actor/male-model roommate gets off work at Saddle Ranch, soon, and will be bringing home additional filthy bar pigs to that studio apartment."

"That dude has a GIRLFRIEND! Don't listen to him. They have been together for 8 years, but he keeps her hidden in a coach house in Studio City."

"I know that you just polished off a bottle of absinthe and you are crawling around the club, pretending to be Tawny Kitaen, but that dude is a plastic-surgery-face-BAD-man. I heard he has child models buried under his infinity pool."

ONE of us has to leave one eye open. At all times.

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

club poolside

Vegas. Club anniversary party. All of the best people will be there! Yeah, I’ll come for the weekend. Yeah, I will dress like a Pro and blow on your dice. I will dance on a banquette to gangsta' rap 'till 4am and even go to an after party in a mall basement till 6. But, on Sunday? I WILL read my Sunday New York Times. I will rationalize my whole weekend, as I do every weekend since I was fourteen, while I tap into the finest mainstream news in the nation and collect my thoughts. It is MY ritual.
But, ha ha, not this particular weekend, ho.
Whilst perched high above club poolside in a "VIP" bed, with my girls, and 45 other VIPs, the pool manager approached me to say, "Um, hi, ah, yeahhh, THERE IS NO READING AT CLUB POOLSIDE. You can...dance...have another cocktail...layout topless...but, yeah, noooooo, this paper in your face looks 'boring, bored, uninteresting', haha, you catch my drift?"
Whoa. Like, whoa. This is the beginning of the end.
The "drift" at club poolside, VIP edition, is to be a "ready-to-party' glamazon at ANY HOUR, regardless of your interests, priorities, or rituals.
My beloved paper was removed from my person while my jaw dropped and (what remains in) my brain spun. VegASS. Don't get it twisted.
"I DIDN'T FLY YOU OUT HERE TO DO THINGS LIKE BE YOURSELF."

love- strategist jem girlfriend

Just Sayin'

Where I come from, it's expected to be married no later than 21, have your FIRST child at 23, and be a "STAY AT HOME' career woman. Well...it didn't quite turn out that way for my me. Whenever I have a visit with my family, all I hear is, "Well, Sugar, when are you gonna have somma those babies? "With the way you cook, you MUST be able to find a husband." ALL. DAMN. DAY. I'm sorry I didn't want to stay in town and marry my high school boyfriend who is now, by the way, a pistol-selling, crystal-meth-addicted felon. I'm sorry I didn't have that dream like my high school girlfriends with three kids, smoking Salem Lights barefoot in the front yard with a baby on their hip. Nuh-Uh! Not my cup of sweet tea! Just let me live my life in the Real World. Los Angeles. Where I fuck A-List actors and their girlfriends, BBD it to La Jolla, Play 'Domestic Abuse' with a Princess Hair Argentine musician, and NJOY Adult Sleepovers with all the pineapple I want. Get off my nuts already.


Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

There is No 'I' in 'Threesome'

It seems like everyone is out for a threesome these days. At the club dudes ask on the regular to my best girlfriend and I, "Hey! How long are those legs foot to foot?" GROSS. "What's up, ladies? Wow! You guys are tall! Jesus! How long are your legs?" PUKE. "There's this 'Adult After Party' in the hills. You girls up for it? 'Cause I'm gettin' there." SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

Let's get this straight. Just because girls are close and take showers together and pee in front of each other doesn't mean we want to lick each other's box. We don't want to get double finger banged and then have you switch fingers to our mouths. We don't want to watch you jerk off to us bumping muffs because, on the real, you look like a complete idiot. I will guarantee you that every Girlfriend Team has had THE conversation:

GF #1, "We can make out, but I'm NOT going down on you."
GF #2, "NO! No way! Nuh-Uh. I can't eat your pussy."

And so on and so forth.

I'm not saying that threesomes aren't fun, because they are! Forgive me, you see lately during my threesome adventures, I've been doing all of the work and frankly, I'm exhausted.

First Rule of Threesome:
When you invite someone to join you and your partner, they aren't supposed to do anything but lay there, moan, and orgasm.

Second Rule of Threesome:
I do NOT want to wake up to you spooning me. Turn the fuck over and get in your girl's nook. I am NOT tryin' to deal with static in the morning after a night filled with a whiskeyeightballofcokeinducedthreesome party.

Third Rule of Threesome:
Please don't think this is going to become a routine thing. I'm bizzy and you should be so lucky.

On that note, don't invite me to your frat-boy, JOMB (Jerk Off Memory Bank) fantasy if you're feeling lazy. There is no I in Threesome.


Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

mercy, mercy me

ALARMING TREND THAT I VEHEMENTLY DISLIKE…
…called pointless checking in on Blackberry Messenger and/or Facebook. I am specifically referring to MAN life in the above mentioned. FYI- Women have every right to social network. And, manly men do, as well, BUT IN SMALL DOSES.
Translation-NOT AS A LIFESTYLE IF YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 35, MEN.

Hey, GROWN ASS MEN- get the fuck off of the social networking world if you wish to remain dignified. Checking in, check in. Dude check in. What up. Play-by-play. Hey. Hey. Bbm is for girls!!! Facebook is for ’tweens and girls! I don't want to chat, be clever, one-up/one-liners all damn day on my phone when I could be having human interaction with a MAN.

This aspect of the future/modern dating life BUMS me out. And don't get me wrong, I love texting as much as any other 20- something GIRL. The shocking amount of text quantity vs. text quality is the issue at hand. These 'check-ins' will occur with rapid frequency from the day you exchange PINS---->3 years if you do not play your cards right with some dudes.

"HEY BABE"
"BABY, I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THOSE BEAUTIFUL______."
"{COCKSHOT}"
“SEND ME A PIC!”
"WHAT UP?"
“YOU ARE PERFECT.”

I want to talk about plans, plans to ACTUALLY get to know one and other.
And/or some real content.
I am green puke face x infinity about constant check in.
Vapid, shallow, frivolous BS, our bbm/facebook/future typing life, is.

Here are some ideas of MAN things that you could discuss, other than type me your default, run of the mill, soft-core porn scripts:

Acquisitions/mergers
Athletic activities
Driving fast
Chopping wood
Political news stories in the paper/online
Movies we will watch this week
What you are reading/working on
Date plans
How you contribute to society
Your creative endeavors
Dinner ideas

Get the drift? Enough of the meaningless check in!

Why. Bother. Want. More,

"Heart"
"Surprised face"
"Tongue stick-out face"
"Smiley face'

love- strategist jem girlfriend

Just So You Know, So You Don't Keep Fucking Up

When you think you have said something funny and no one responds with a laugh or comment, shut the fuck up. Please don't repeat it. It's embarrassing for you and it makes me uncomfortable.

"HEY,GIRLS, I HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO BUILD ONE'A THOSE ISLAND STATES IN DUBAI, I THINK I WILL BUILD AN ISLAND IN THE SHAPE OF YOUR TITS. UH HAH HUH HA. WHAT DO YOU THINK? 19 BILLION FOR AN ISLAND IN DUBAI IN THE SHAPE OF YOUR TITS, BABE?"

"SILENCE."

"HEY,GIRLS, I HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO BUILD ONE'A THOSE ISLAND STATES IN DUBAI, I THINK I WILL BUILD AN ISLAND IN THE SHAPE OF YOUR TITS. UH HAH HUH HA. WHAT DO YOU THINK? 19 BILLION FOR AN ISLAND IN DUBAI IN THE SHAPE OF YOUR TITS, BABE?"


"SILENCE."

Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend + strategist jem girlfriend

what's his first name?

"So, not-working, white-prodora-wearing "model', where did you get this sweet new Range Rover?"
"My Daddy bought it for me."
"Uh-huh, and what's his first name?'
"Suuuugar''

That is some sticky sweet sickness. Tricky sweet. Sick tricky sweet.

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

*CLINK*CLINK* all of the best people are here!

One of my boyfriends and I broke up, and he told me that he had mental picture of me dealing with our break up. ME, at the club, with a table of models and a glass of champagne, raising my glass to cheer, looking around, grinning, and exclaiming, “All of the BEST people are here!” oh ex-boyfriend, of COURSE ALL of the BEST people aren’t at the CLUB! They are doing community service, protecting children from harm, saving the environment, working on foreign policy, ETC…
How did you ever love me so very and think that I am that fucking stupid? All of the WORST people are at the club. Which is precisely why one would spend time there to get over a break up. You don’t wanna meet another good dude when your heart is raw. You need to leap frog that pain on some real shit-heads. Remind you why you don’t wanna be with a dude. Remind you that misery loves company. Remind you that getting wasted and bee bopping around the club is distracting from your hurty heart. There is nothing BEST, better, or even good about it, really.

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

PR Girl Really Means PRO

You'd be surprised how many Pros you know in this town. What's a Pro?

PROSTITUTE:
1. One who solicits and accepts payment for sex acts.
2. One who sells one's abilities, talent, or name for an unworthy purpose.

You can usually spot them in their 'Protastic" uniform- the white Fedora. We like to call it, 'PRO-dora'. Most of the LA hos, I mean, PROS, wear them to identify themselves to the masses. You know, the Billionaire Ass-Eaters, Real Estate CEO's taking their sons out for a little "Father-Son Time", and to the Madame. She is the lead PR-O in this town and she's lookin' to recruit. See, there's this new trend going on in Hollywood. The Madame and her PR-O's throw parties at her Brothel or a really old rich dude's house. "I mean, they pay me." True words from the Madame. Well, what the fuck.

This is how these parties are going down:

Madame invites every non-working model, Brazilian Child Models, old tricks, new tricks, and of course her PR-O's to slink around the party, eyeing every Propecia ad and USC frat-boy that's looking to possibly "GET LAID". SHE'S JUST DOING HER JOB, RIGHT?? Ughh, give me a bottle of Jim Beam and a marathon of "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" to forget about that comment.

So ladies, if you ever get an invite to the "Discover PR-O Land Party", and end up having a threesome with that Father and Son I spoke about, don't say I didn't warn you. But, hey! You just might get a trip to Cabo out of it.

Well. I said it.


Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

where IS that island...

...and HOW can you move there without hitting it?

That is what we say about the dudes who come on so strong to spend some time together... and then... vanish. VANISH BEFORE CONSUMMATING THE RELATIONSHIP!!! They must just disappear to this "pretend island".

It can be the only explanation, really. Sosososos strong. Constant attention for days, weeks on end, a casual date involving ZERO sex, and then disappear. Hmmmm.

I need to clarify: if you have a date and decide that this is not a love match and you are not compatible-PLEASE GIVE US A ONE NIGHT STAND OUT OF IT! We want to "make out" just as much (dare I say ‘more?) as dudes, and if you are going to peace out without explanation, at LEAST provide a sexual encounter as a parting gift.
This is necessary if you are a nice guy for two reasons.

ONE: Give the lady a story, I mean, if you are going to come on like a speed train, FINISH THE TRANSACTION! You get to get laid, we get to get laid, and we can sit around with our girlfriends and talk about how the sex was so-so, anyway. It is a “nicer guy” thing to do! Let us blame it on the bedroom!
TWO: I like to solidify the myth in dumb child model brains that “if you sleep with a dude, he will never call you, again”. PLEASE, PLEASE allow this urban legend to flourish. That story makes the world go round and allows those of us in on the secret that it is NOT 1947 to remain sexually free, while the sugarfreeredbullforbrains cries at the afterparty.

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

i can make los angeles disappear

ok, ok. cold hard evidence. who does this lady think she IS? let us allow Spanish Princess Hair to fill you in. i met Spanish Princess Hair for 5 hours while he had a layover in downtown LA en route to Barcelona, where he lives as a tri-athlete, princess hair, architect. Why would i be downtown, you ask? 45 glasses of Patron at secret rock show. Led me to this firey poet. For 5 hours. A magical and fantastical 5 hours. Apparently. Arriba arriba hondelay!!!

NOTE ONE:
"Hola Love!!!.
You got power enough to get what you want... I don,t know if it was power, energy or fire; but when you was looking straight to my eyes, L.A disappeared!!!. Actually i was on my way to say bye bye to a friend when we met!!, after, the friend disappeared, the building disappeared, time disappeared, world disappeared and i found no where with a stranger dancing merengue!!!!. I don,t know what you did but you got power!!!!!!!!!!.
I want to keep feeling this power, so i have to find a Blackberry!!
Kisses and love."

NOTE TWO:
"Hope your home is far away from the fire!!!,
Although your own inside love fire is able to burn twenty times more that amount of mountains.
Is sad to see all that houses on fire, but is part of life, sometimes fire helps to burn things, thinks, ways of life, costums(costumbres in spanish), rutines...that we don.t like but we live with them just because we are use to them or we are lazy to get rid of them... I can burn the all world just to be one night more with you!!!!!!!.
fireeee kisssssssss"


WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MERENGuE? AND HOW DID I DO IT SO WELL? WHAT ELSE DO I DO WHEN I AM BLACKOUT-BLACKOUTERTON?

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

My House Where I Live

My best girlfriend and I go over to her sleeping friend's house to retrieve her fabulous Marc Jacobs trench. He answers the door in his blankey and Nesquick and leads us upstairs where a very successful tv show is blaring on HBO. He introduces us to his clubrat friend as "Hey! Clubrat friend! This is Tall and Taller!" Clubrat friend responds with "Nice to meet you girls. Why haven't I met you before? Do you go to Villa ever?" With the snottiest of the snotty tone both of us gasp, drop our jaw, and say, "Umm, duh! Of course! We were there last night!" Blankey Boy says with that smirky oompa loompa grin "Are you kiddin' me? These girls LIVE AT VILLA!"

Please tell me what's worse. That you've never been to Villa or you live there?

I feel like a Brazilian Child Model just spilled her Cucumber shot in my brain and on my Louboutin's. (GLITCH GLITCH SHORTOUT CRUNCH CLUBRAT BARBIE BREAKDOWN)


Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

HONEY!

It's a word that I use quite often. It can be used under any circumstance. A loving way to express how much I miss someone, "Honey! Can't wait to see you!" A concerned way when I think you might be pushing the limit "Honey. Do you really think you need that other eightball? "Cause Honey, you know I'm doing it with you. HONEY. eehe eeh eehe ehe ehee" A condescending way. Like when a wicked club rat hosebeast asks if there's a chance she can fuck my famous actor friend, "Honey. Get your snatch out of my house, Villa. I LIVE HERE AND EVERYONE KNOWS THIS".


Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

Not Feeling Your Feelings

You ever want to just "not feel it"? You know, that pit in your stomach that keeps turning every time you think of 'him' or 'her'? Well, believe it or not, here in this LA, there is a pill and it's not hard to find. My love affair with Klonopin developed after my Rockstar Emo Boyfriend broke up with me after nine months because "he just wasn't ready for a relationship". Ok, let 's talk about that for a second. When you spend every day with your girl or guy or dog, IT'S A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP! When you introduce your better half to the family, IT'S A FUCKING RELATIONSHIP! When you're having anal on the regular, you guessed it...

Which takes us to that night at Koi. Of course Rockstar Emo Boyfriend wants to call me on my way to a family dinner. And when I say 'Family Dinner' it means four or more friends that you have known at least six months. So, Rockstar Emo Boyfriend, my ex relationship not relationship, is white rapping to me with his permanent beat scratching DJ rolling around in his head (WEECKA WEECKA SCRATCH WEECKA), "I really miss you". Are you fucking kidding me? This valet line at Koi and Nickelback on the radio is enough to make me want to play in the La Cienega traffic and you want to call about your feelings?? Ughh.

I finally sit down to dinner with the family and I've had it. I belt out with exhaustion, "GOD! I wish there was a pill that could make you just NOT FEEL!" And low and behold that firey Redhead Heiress across from me says "one second". She digs deep into her Limited Edition Hermes Crocodile Baby Possum bag and a plethora of medical treatments spill out onto the table and into my Spicy Tuna Crispy Rice. And there it was. My new love, Klonopin.

Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

just like edward

Last week, I had the ultimate ‘run your mouth to your boys’ experience. It ended up turning into some real “pretty woman” bullshit. NOTE: not taking my “nothing good happens after 2AM” advice and I go to house after party with friends. I make out with this attractive, yet, not-the-brightest-crayon-in-the-box-dude that has been on my nuts for months. Not 10 minutes after coming back upstairs to join the party, does dull crayon’s LITTLE BROTHER approach me. Younger, less attractive, and apparently psychologically damaged, missing-a-social-filter-little brother says, “Uh, my brother just said that was the best he has ever had. And, uh, he doesn’t say tings like that, I mean, EVER. So , what’s up, what’s the fuss all about? What does he mean THAT GOOD. Do you think that you could show me? Like, right now, show me what is SO GREAT. No one has to know. C’mon, I WANNA KNOW.” Oh, man. Dark places. Dark places like those dark alleys that you should WATCH YOUR BACK IN from now on, little brother.

Remember “PRETTY WOMAN’, when the little, less-attractive lawyer tries to beat down pretty Julia?
“Right now I am just freaking out. So maybe if I screw you, huh,and take you to the opera, then I could be a happy guy, just like Edward.”

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

like my friend, EZ E, says...

..."Now i’m fucking all of your friends ‘cuz you ran your mouth like I knew you would.”

LA is a small world. Actually, the world is a small world. This becomes a drag when you start crossing friend paths with lovers/boyfriends/one nightstands. Guess what? Those dudes, ESPECIALLY THE “high profile” dudes LOVE to chat it up about chicks! It is brain breaking. They talk on the phone, e-mail, and bbm all damn day about whom they are fucking and how it is. This is adorable and all…but, picture the conversations? Shudder. “Guess what I did last night, brah?”
I know that this is true because of a little holiday in a little town called Cabo. The holiday cheer made me forget about gossip boys, ex-oh-ex-oh, for a night or two. And man, oh, man, did those dudes CHAT IT UP!!! I ended up at the club IN MEXICO on NEW YEARS EVE with the above mentioned arm and arm approaching me, shit-eating grin style, “Hey, should we all take a midnight picture together? I will hold up my index finger like a “one” ‘cuz I had you FIRST! And he will make a ‘two”, like “PEACE”. True story. What up.

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

this isn’t recess. this is REAL LIFE.

Men. Oh, men. I don’t care how famous/rich/connected you are. I never did. AND I ESPECIALLY don’t/won’t when you do baby man things. TINY BABIES drink chocolate milk, apple juice, and have blankies. Do NOT answer the door with any of these items. Do NOT let me how much you love any of these items. Be BIG. NOT LITTLE. Answer the door with your dick in one hand and a Stella in the other. Chop some wood, build a fire, and drink an ADULT beverage. Muhammad Ali chops wood. What’s your fucking problem?

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

nothing good happens after 2AM

After 2-you will inevitably end up blasted on coke talking about your dads, teenage years, ex-boyfriends , abusive exboyfriends, how much you really like each other, how pretty you all are, how you are going to do so many fun things in life, and about all of the things you can give each other that you currently have on your person.

“That lipstick looks so much better on you, you should HAVE it. No, I mean it, HAVE IT. You are so pretty! So do these shoes on you, My step-mom bought them for me. I don’t even like them. I don’t even like her. She ruined my dad. Now, I don’t even like him. I think it affects my relationships with men. I REALLY do. Really. Omg, we are going to wake up and get sommoothies, you love smoothies, omg, so do I, WE ARE THE SAME, I am so glad that we are friends, I am so glad that we met, it is so hard to meet good girlfriends, omg we should do something every week. Like start a band. We can practice every week and then all hang out, ill be the singer, omg. We should call our band 'the smoothies', BECAUSE WE ALL LOVE SMOOTHIES.” Right?

love-
strategist jem girlfriend

Fucking The Help

I know what you're thinking. "Grrreat. Another blog for me to read while I'm drinking my coffee getting ready to go to work or castings or an audition- or to turn a trick" .

I never thought I would be a part of this Blognation, but I guess when you start fucking "The Help", it isn't so bad. By "The Help" I mean a blue collar, strapping young lad, preferably with a big dick. I've had a life of luxury, BBD's (we'll get into that in a while), and glamourama. And now I find fucking a pedestrian that can hardly make his rent more satisfying than all the Cristal a girl could ask for. Why you ask? Because Big Dick Pool Boy is a sure thing. I have had a lot of unsure things in my life. It has been a fun ride, but let me tell you, private jets, yachts and foie gras doesn't stand a chance to a great fuck that pays attention.

Love-
Disco Barbie Girlfriend

a new game

I have always thought blogs were terribly embarrassing. ALWAYS. But, it IS the future. I chose to live in the future. And I chose to be embarrassed in the future. Which brings me to the first entry. “Cock shots”. Pictures of male genitalia sent over a cell phone. Cock shots. Never in my lengthy and involved career in dating have I had more pictures of cock shots, dickpics, OMGs sent to my blackberry as in this Los Angeles. My girlfriends and I have built collections. And, yet, we encourage this alarming trend to thrive. We send them to each other and/or gay guy friends. Sometimes, in our sharing activities, we learn that there are serial cock pic senders around town! “OMG! He sent ME that one, too!!!” Among the other mysteries of LA dating life, 2nd only to billionaire ass-eaters, are these cock shots. Some are from dudes you just met at the club, some you have been sleeping with for years, and some are from your guy ‘friends’ who are just proud of their sizable ‘gift’. Fuck, man, the girlfriends and me are ready to make laminated trading cards of cock pics. Honestly, sending them over bbm to girlfriend while she is at a formal dinner has lost novelty and shock value. Watch out next time you see a buncha leggy blondes at Apple passing laminated cards! They are not Garbage Pail Kids, they are not baseball cards, they are not Webkins, they are your COCK SHOTS that you sent to one-too-many-a-babe. Snore. Snooze. We need a new game.

love-
strategist jem girlfriend