Come Here, Baby

I know, I already spoke about Travis. But- I found out some information on him:

He is from Australia.
He has three brothers. *YES
He played football.
He is an oil painter.

SWOON.

I can't help it, he is a showpiece of perfection.

Talk about Calvin Klein OBSESSION!!!

My Heart Will Go On- Barbie GF

A Feast

Remember Travis Fimmel?

JESUS.

SPEECHLESS.

I WILL WALK ON NAILS TO HAVE A TASTE.

OMG.

I remember living in NY when this delicacy of a man showed up on a giant billboard on the corner of Houston Street and Broadway. He literally caused traffic accidents. I would bring an extra pair of panties with me if I knew I was going to be downtown that day. Because man oh man, Travis did it for me. Still does. Where did he go? Why would a Superhero YumYum disappear like that?! I have to find him. Not necessarily to make him my boyfriend, I'm back with the Traveling CEO, remember?! I would just like to have him pleasure me when I request. I don't think that's too much to ask.

Travis, oh sweet Travis,
Come to LA. We will ride bikes in Venice, eat at Dan Tana's and make sweet love to the sounds of R. Kelly.

In Love- Barbie GF

Coach-HELL NO!

I will NOT be attending this year's Coachella. I just can't do it. Maybe it's because I'm old. Maybe it's because I'm back with the Traveling CEO and I want to be a good woman. Maybe it's because Jem GF and I are on the SoberTrain. I don't know. All I know is that I will NOT be riding in that car with the Man-In-Black who chases Child Models and DKNY parties. I will NOT be listening to the Redhead Heiress Demon Seed talk about where Leo lives. Or if the Beckhams bought that house by Tom and Katie. What does she know? I'm the one that used to starfuck, I know where all those fools live. BOOYA!!

The Girlfriends and I were the biggest fans of Coachella. For YEARS. But I see it becoming very commercial. It's not cool anymore. When a hooker loving felon says he's going to Coachella, you gotta step back and think for a minute. HE WAS IN JAIL FOR 8 YEARS. WHAT DOES HE KNOW ABOUT 'MY MORNING JACKET'? Nan. Nothin'. Nada. Or when you find yourself bowing Heidi and Spencer in the ribcage to get a glimpse of Mastodon backstage, something is really wrong! Especially because they think they are there to see the Jonas Brothers!

Then Jem GF tells me that our friends, Club Poorman and Pineapple Express are going because quote, "Every hot chick I know is going, I gotta go to Coachella", it just solidifies my point. See where I'm coming from?!

So listen. If you're one that's heading to Indio with a pocket-full of Ecstasy, just remember this. You will come back with Herpes, a hangover, and will probably be a little pregnant.

Don't say I didn't warn you- Barbie GF

I Just Arrived at Temptation Island and Mickey Rourke is Waiting With a Margarita.

Let's talk about Mickey Rourke.

Past. Present. Future.

I would let this man do whatever he wanted to me. I don't care about the failed boxing career. I don't care about the botched plastic surgery. All I care about is doing a re-make of Wild Orchid and 9 1/2 Weeks.

This beautiful beast came into the lingerie store that I represent, for an appointment with yours truly. Not only did I pick out beautiful panties for his made up Russian girlfriend, HE ASKED ME TO TRY THEM ON!! I'm not joking. Mickey Rourke is like money. You never joke about money or MIckey Rourke. I turned down his request but not before telling him, "I'm not trying them on, but I will tell you this...I have them and they look amazing". The reason I didn't put the panties on for him was because I was so scared my 'excitement' would end up all over these treats and I would have to hand them back soaked in my MickeyRourkeLove. Sigh. *The whole work ethic thing went completely out the window.

After a day of flirty texting, I STILL said no to his request to take me out. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! I MEAN, REALLY.

I've decided to write Mickey a letter on this blog. I'm hoping I still have a chance for him to make me crawl across the floor to pick up the dollar bills he's thrown at me.


Mickey,
We can begin this process of shooting these remakes whenever is convienent for you. Really. I will make sure I have the tan lines, strawberries, and a mask. I will try on every piece of lingerie your black heart desires. I will take Tylenol beforehand to make sure I can keep up with you, my Stallion.


Love-
Barbie Girlfriend

baby loves a cynic

I love this book. It is so fun for me.

"I used to think women who looked past my flaws were really cool women with brains," one of Los Angeles-based graphic artist Donny Miller's pictures broadcasts. "Now I think they're just desperate." And so establishes his tone. Miller's bright, pop illustrations, often of smiling men and women, belie other bon mots like "You are beautiful in every single way, except maybe one or two," "Let's tell each other our darkest secrets. Later, when things go bad, we can use them against each other," and "We think so much alike. Although, I have no idea what you're thinking." This year, Miller's work was collected into his first book, "Beautiful People With Beautiful Feelings" (Abrams, 2006).

I just want to tear out the pages and send them to everyone!

-JEM GF

LA can fuck up a zero-year old

While shopping today, I met the two most adorable 11-month old twins, kickin' in in a double stroller with their rockermom,

Their names were...wait, you had better sit down...

Valentine Megadeath and Violet Metallica.

Their rockermom proceeded to share with me how their asshole Dad was trying to sue for custody because Violet Metallica is the new baby starring on that doctor show "House", and he wants a piece of the money action. And this was especially awful news, on account of the babies born prematurely at one pound and two pounds, respectively and she has had to deal with all of their health problems. Sigh, this story sucks...

OF COURSE the one-pound baby, NOT-childstar got the Megadeath name.

LAme-jem gf

"you DESERVE the cocaine!"

I have a new therapist that I really like. This is really good news.

My last therapist was F.O.B. (fresh off the boat) from school and her native country where she didn't translate between languages very well. She was so sweet that I actually referred her to Disco Barbie when I decided that she was too new to treat me. Boy, was I right! This is a direct quote from our shared therapist:

"You know, you have hard life, you work hard, you survive,you live through many thing and so, at night...'Yes-I DESERVE to dance on the table! I DESERVE the cocaine!'"

Ummm, yeah, don't give me additional encouraging mantras for my bad behavior, therapist! I know you didn't mean it or mean harm, therapist, but you know how many times Disco Barbie and I have been holding each other up while dancing on tables chanting, in stereo, "YOU DESERVE THE COCAINNNNEEEE!" because of you...

NANbody deserves the cocaine-Jem

CHILD ATHLETE

I have been playing a new game called "cougtastic". It goes like this -"Pretend you are a fantastic cougar even though you are WAY TOO YOUNG to actually be one. If you date anyone younger than you, it can fall under cougtastic game category".

I had a very fun time pursuing the online Urban Dictionary for definitions of "cougar". If you are unclear, I will share:

1. A hot single woman in her 30s to 40s who is totally into sex but for whatever reason isn't in a relationship. She usually hunts young hard bodied males for fun, casual, no strings sex. She is sophisticated, in her sexual prime, and absolutely knows how to use her young prey to get sexed up and satisfied. Her libido rages almost constantly so she will need to hunt frequently.
Occasionally she will be so impressed and surprised by her young prey that she will be vulnerable to attachment.

2. An older woman who frequents clubs in order to score with a much younger man. The cougar can be anyone from an overly surgically altered wind tunnel victim, to an absolute sad and bloated old horn-meister, to a real hottie or milf. Cougars are gaining in popularity -- particularly the true hotties -- as young men find not only a sexual high, but many times a chick with her shit together.
"That cougar I met last night, showed me shit I didn't know existed, I'm goin back for more."

"Young guys at bar: What do we have to do to have a chance with a hot older woman?
Urban cougar: Be a great kisser, nice bed manners, eat pussy, and be able to go the distance - over and over."


This game started with a 22 year-old multimillionaire NFL linebacker. He bought a house down the street and stopped by for a neighborly visit. So, we painted our nails clear and chatted about our mutual adoration for indie-rock, NPR, and having fun.
When said child athlete found out about my career aspirations, he won the award for the most inquiries about what I do with my life other than be tall. For days on end, it was who, what, where, when about my job and goals. A CHILD ATHLETE asked me more questions about academia than ANY of my fiances. Really?!?!

For a minute, I thought this fuckin' kid has a promising future in my life and was different than your typical prey because he asked so many questions and had a successful career doing what he loved. Sadly, no.

He quickly became (one of many) thorns in my side. Guess what? "Off-season" (or whatever-the-fuck footballers call the time when they aren't playing games) is time to bug/harass/stalk your cougar girlfriend. Blaaaach. I have never been as smothered with attention as bad as when I decided to play cougtastic.

The surprises were super fun, but they were followed with :
24/7 requests to spend time together.
24/7 BUGGING me.
24/7 baffled that I need space.
24/7 "why?"
24/7 "Can i just come over and e@! your p*$$%? "
24/7 change Blackberry IM NAME to break-up sap w/my initials included, ev. 5 minutes*
(ex- "his name + i can't get over you nomatter how i try + my initials")
24/7 won't let up/won't take hint

My game backfired. Big time. And this is after TWO WEEKS, my friends. I am not a TOTAL ice queen/asshole/bitchface.

...It is like if i said, "Hey, let's play a game". And instead of "cougtastic", I said "Twister". And then, rather than spin the color wheel, you broke all of my limbs and every digit on my hands and feet.
Twister isn't a fun game, ANYMORE, because you DID it WRONG, YOU jiltedNFLlinebackerbrokenheartedmaniac for no reason.

And you had better leave my new boyfriend (child rocker) alone, O.J.- Jem


*must be noted that this is for HIS NINETY-THREE BBM friends to view

HEY!

Yeah, me too.


Love- Barbie GF

MONSTER

Michael Vick is to be released from prison in a couple of months. This scares me and angers me and makes me really emotional. According to the Daily News, he has been playing football in prison to 'keep his arm loose'. I hope the NFL is not thinking of signing this monster to a new team. Do they realize they will be supporting this loser's thirst for money and power? Because that's the only reason he created that horrible life for those defenseless animals. Money from betting on the dogfights and the power from drowning those dogs while they look at him with their eyes wondering, 'why is this happening to me?' Dogs are domesticated. They have feelings and emotions. They want nothing more than to please their master. How could someone electrocute, drown, hang, and beat something that just wants to love you? A MONSTER.

Daily News: "He's likely the first player picked when the inmates are choosing up sides or the guards are choosing up sides for them. Vick's sprinter speed surely comes in handy just in case a dog-loving inmate thinks it's cool to sack an NFL quarterback and break his shoulder."

Hey! Vick! Someone hurting your shoulder is the least of your worries. This is what I hope happens to you during your last months is prison. Ready?

I hope you get your head bashed in by your cellmate. 'Celly' in prison terms. Then, I hope a Latin King ass rapes you with a splintered broom stick. Then I hope a Blood fucks your mouth and then pisses and defecates on your chin. Then, I hope a Crip wraps dental floss around the tips of your fingers so they fall off. Might be hard to throw a ball with no fingertips, huh? Then, I would hope the Bloods and Crips would unite and find a way to shove sandpaper to the inside of your eyelids. Then drown you in 30 second intervals in the toilet. Last but not least, I hope the White Supremacists shank you every day until you walk out of that prison. But not before they tattoo your entire body with 'I LOVE COCK'.

You have a lot of bad energy and emotional outbursts waiting for you when you're back in the real world, honey. That's worse than all the prison nightmares you've been having. Good luck, fucker. I really hope I don't run into you at Coffee Bean or something.


Fuck you- Wrath of Barbie.

DON'T!!!

DON'TS=KITTEN HEELS.
Jesus. DO NOT=DON'T.
They are NOT sexy, cute, or cool.

Hey-Wear flats!
-snakeskin, ballerina
-flats are fucking CUTE!

Hey-Wear sexy heels! (i.e. NOT kitten)
-"comfort" is cool, but don"t compromise to the dark side.
-hugemongous heels comfy to the max if you do it right
-HIGH heels are just COOL!

There is no 'tween. NONE.

i love if you if you listen to me-jem

alicia silverstone

How do we have so many dudes in common?

WHAT else do we have in common?

Seriously?

- :-/ jem gf

hocrastinating life

I text with my female musician friend last night while studying my brains out.

GF:"Sometimes,I wonder if I just wanna play music 'cuz I'm boy crazy. Kidding, Kinda'. There are the hottest, coolest dudes playing on my record."

GF ME: "Aw, no man, I get it. Sometimes, I wonder if I only want to be a scientist so that i can be career-obsessed, rich, and alone."

GF: "Yeah, totally rich and surrounded by tall, hot, skinny dudes."

GF ME: "Yeah, me, too! That! Yeah!"

GF: "BIG DICKS AND MONEY! WHAT ELSE IS THERE?"

I think that is what we are all trying to figure out.

In our defense, we aren't discussing gold-digging or cheating. We are talking about pure motivation to get awesome in our respective (and very different) careers)!

i never said otherwise- jem gf

schoolhouse rock

Disco Barbie has made it unofficial harsh-attack on exes week!

Six dudes that I have "dated" in LA have pulled the same texting usage move. WHY?
They are dumb enough to not know, oh wait, OR GOOGLE " forms of your" while chilling poolside, texting wicked-starfucking -hosebeasts all damn day.
They are smart enough to know that I judge you when you use poor grammar. Almost all other words of the novellas that we text back and forth are spelled out correctly and not abbreviated, except "YER".

"Can't wait to see YER fine ass, baby."
"YER on the list plus two, honey."
"Send me a picture of you in YER panties, sexy."
"YER the only girl for me, babydoll."
"Are you at YER house or Club Myhouse?"
"How's my angel this morning, YER good?"

I am not the boss of punctuation/grammar/usage. I often misuse. I often misuse on purpose. I don't know why this particular trend gets under my skin,but it really does.

Is there a secret Hollywood dude workshop for when you make your first million?
When you are more than a thousandaire, you can spell like an asshole. Meeting adjourned.

your ex gf- jem

YOU Are the Reason I Have Migraines.

This is true. All of you assholes in THIS Los Angeles have contributed to the wealth of Excedrin Migraine. I hope you're happy. I should be the spokeswoman for this God-given medication. It's either this, Jim Beam, or Cocaine to make you assholes bearable and since I'm off the sauce and narcotics, DON'T FUCK WITH ME.

WHO are the assholes? You ready??

YOU are. If I get one more Facebook invite to read about '25 Facts About Your Life', or another invite and key in the mail to 'My House', I am going to lose it. Quit it already! I'm tired. I'm burnt out. My ears hurt from your whining over Fiddy in the club. You are actually making my brain bleed. I'm sure of it.

You know the social suicide 'spaces' that have spread over the universe like The Blob? And how most of them ask you to answer "Who I Would Like To Meet"? For me it's more like, "Who I Would Like To Un-Meet". I'll name a few for you...

1. My ex-boyfriend, The Croatian Soccer player who beat me up one day and said "Go clean yourself up". Morbid and depressing? Never. I'm actually able to laugh at it now! Where the fuck did he think he was? A rerun of "The Bold and the Beautiful"?

2. My ex-boyfriend, the Emo Rockstar. Who decided to break up our relationship/non-relationship because he wasn't ready to "be in a relationship". But wanted to anal play with me on Tuesdays and Thursdays and then take me to his parents house for some enchiladas. This is not "Nip/Tuck". (Btw, I hear he's dating a hermaphrodite who doesn't shave "IT'S" legs). Blaachhkk!

3. My ex-boyfriend, the Traveling CEO. This one had a hidden love for hookers. Well, kept it hidden from me. But somehow Los Angeles was able to keep a secret! Haha, go figure. This one actually has a goatee now. I saw it with my own eyes. Is that really coming back? I thought only Tom Green was able to have a goatee. Whatever, both of you are fucking idiots.

4. My ex-sleeping friend, American Psycho. This is when I started slumming and decided that fucking the help would be a great idea. Until he told me "I like fucking you on your period, baby. I imagine my 11 inch cock is making you bleed". Yeah, yeah, I know. T-M-I!!! Well, it was too much information for me to have and I was tired of having it on my brain. So now I have passed it on. Run with it.

5. All of the Rami Atherton's, Michael Bellasario's, and random club promoters that I don't know that think they know me. I just named two of them and I have never met them in the human form. They must be 'Club Angels' because I get many invites and texts from them but have never actually seen one! Could there be such a thing as a 'Club Angel'? I think I will change that to 'Club Reaper'. Because they are tryin' to take my soul. NAN, FUCKERS! Get offa maay!!!

6. Paris Hilton. Just because. She ruins everything. All of the time. She should go to 'That Island' and fuck all the dudes my girlfriend and I passed on. And take her FAS (Fetal Alcohol Syndrome) sister with her.


Ok, great. I have a migraine. What's new.


No love today- Barbie Girlfriend

hasn't being right just let you down?

A co-worker approaches me today and says, "Dude, I was at Taco Bell and this song was on... and the chorus was YOUR NAME on repeat and I thought...I bet this song is really about HER..."

It probably was.

I have a problem thinking that every dude that I have ever "dated" in a band writes every song about me. Narcissism is one of my disorders I examine on the regular; don't think that I don't know...

One day I say to an old friend in band with an ex-lover, "I swear, that new song, I betcho' it had ME in mind, huh?"

And he says, "Ummm, that song is about GEORGE BUSH".

One, two, fuck you.

ahahahhahah.

love-jem gf

i have a favorite parasite

Parasites may exploit their hosts, forcing them to behave in ways that do not benefit the hosts (or their genetic relatives). For example, the parasitic fluke (flukes are small, flattened, worm-like animals) Dicrocoelium dendriticum, or Lancet Fluke, lives in sheep, but uses ants as an intermediate host (in order to get from one sheep to another).
LA-Lancet fluke
Ants normally avoid being eaten by sheep, staying in the soil. However, an ant infected with Dicrocoelium changes its behavior. Once inside the brain, the parasite literally turns the ant into a zombie ant, that is, a member of the undead. The parasite basically kills the ant and reanimates it in full control of its brain and hence all of its bodily functions. Once the parasite possesses the ant it causes it to perform behavioral patterns uncommon to the ant’s usual behavior
LA=Lancet FLUKE
The normal armies of the normal ants file back to their colony after a long day's work in the hot sun, but those who partook of the parasite slime? They uncharacteristically break ranks to wander away in a daze. Acting out the demands of the unwelcome guests lodged in its head, an infected ant penetrates the jungle of foliage and selects a random blade of grass. It clambers up the long, thin leaf and crawls out to the tip, where it obeys a powerful urge to secure itself in position with its clamp-like mandibles.
LA=Lancet Fluke
Each dangling, stupefied ant-zombie remains paralyzed on its perch throughout the night. When the light and warmth of dawn reappear, the compromised insect comes to its senses and climbs back down to return home. During the day it rejoins its working comrades as though nothing happened; but as evening approaches, and temperatures cool, the parasitic flukes will once again urge their host to venture alone into the wilderness. A new blade of grass is selected and scaled, and the ant once again positions itself upon the tip. This bizarre modified existence continues until one day the dangling insect is sucked into the jaws of a beast.

Dicrocoelium dendriticum give me hope that I have, perhaps, NOT DONE LOST MY MIND. Who KNOWS what kinda' sinister mind controlling parasites the billionaire club has invested in?

I mean, jeez, the shit that I get up to at night? It is exactly as if I am a zombie ant and I am just crawling up that blade of grass to be eaten alive. ( Well, “alive” is subjective, at this point…we have already established our half-dead status, haven’t we, girls)

The zombie ants and me=the same!
We don’t know what the fuck happened, except when night falls…we know enough to brainlessly march straight inta' the dangerzone, bad news, trouble situation, night after night after night.

C’mon…who put a Fluke in my bottle of Patron?

love-zombie ant jem gf

richard prince

"Two psychiatrists, one says to the other: I was having lunch with my mother the other day and I made a Freudian slip. I meant to say, "Please pass the butter" and instead it came out, "You fucking bitch you ruined my life."

love-jem gf

watching the dream become reality

I feel so happy and hopeful. I will never forget how important this day is.

My generation/ peer group are actually affected by something!

Mayjah.

BYE BYE, Bush, demon seed of the world.

love- tearful jem gf

HOTTER AND SMARTER

Do one thing every single day that makes you feel hot and smart.
These are very personal choices, and can appeal to ALL kinds of intelligence (emo, artistic, social, intellectual) like...

Listen to a podcast while you hike.
Read headlines on yo' Blackberry while you get waxed.
Make an acupuncture appointment and visit Dictionary.com word of the day.
Buy some Louboutins on your way to volunteer at the animal shelter.
Drink green tea and play with the thesaurus for scathing e-mail to your ex.
Cook healthy dinner and read a magazine.
Do your nails and talk to your smartest friend about life.
Paint and then have sex for many hours in many positions.

GET IT?

This all started when I was about 6 years old!!! I found my childhood journal from when I was traveling with my Father somewhere tropical, obviously... I was too young to spell "bitch" correctly...one page says, "My mom is such a bicth for wanting me to come home from holiday." But the first page of my lined grown-up journal had this list:

1.pretty
2.skinny
3.tan.
4.smart

I don't think I really meant them in that order.
But, I was BORN playin' "hotter and smarter"... little baby me, kickin' it poolside, soaking up vitamin D while realizing my life goals. And figuring out how to spell swear words.

...And if you play enough days...

*THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, DREAMBOAT, CATCH OF ALL CATCHES WILL LOOK YOU UP TO RECONNECT
*AND YOU WILL GET YOUR DREAM JOB AS A RESEARCH SCIENTIST. WHERE YOU GET A RETINAL SCAN TO ENTER YOUR JOB. WHERE YOU WORK.

Like me. Today.

BOOYAKASHA- jem gf

"I look taller in the movies, you know"...

...direct quote from D-lister to me at the club.

Ug, I DETEST AWARDS SEASON. Here they ALL come. All of the dudes that you have ever "known". Outta' the woodwork and inta'..

threesome proposal land
lookin' you up land
re-hit on you land
be at the party land, be at dinner land
be my "date" land
verbally abuse you for having the audacity to NOT fuck them land

The day REALLY DOES come, kids. The day when the LAST THING IN LIFE that you wanna do is starfuck. Well, for some of us, the lucky ones, the ones who got out alive.

Not everyone is so lucky. My therapists and professors are TOTALLY WANNABE starfuckers. DE-pressing, I can't escape the LA bubble.

"Let's find out how many standard deviations away from the mean the INCOME of guys SHE [points to ME] DATES is..."
- Nerd professor joke, today.

"Maybe we can do our sessions at your house in the hills and YOUR FRIENDS will see that I do house calls and they will hire me, too? That would be fabulous."
-Therapist, today

WOW! I'M TOTALLY NOT LAUGHING!!!

I don't wanna talk about why I would slum it with a Z-lister when I COULD be with an A-lister for the duration of awards season.

How bout a NO-lister? Or a Dean's-lister?
I'm only dating NO-listers and DEAN'S-listers for a minute, well, at least 'till the Oscars are over...

love-jem gf

i need a drink and a quick decision

GF#1- "Hey, why does that 7-foot-tall-princess-hair-Latin-looking-royalty have a SILK Robe on over his clothes AT THE CLUB?"
GF#ME-"I dunno, but I had better get to the bottom of it!"

UN-Meet Can. Yes, that was actually his name. I told Can that we should "get outta' there."
I HAD to find out WHY he was wearing a robe.
This was in the middle of my "dating foreigners is okay" phase.
This phase promptly ended after the Frenchmen experiences. Wow, whatta' fuckin' bummer those ALL were.

DEUX-The French "player" with the brightly colored Lamborghini? Yeah, the one that I met in a bajillionaire orgy in the hills one dark night? That called me a "bitch" and a "whore" for being too busy with my studies to jump when he said that he wanted to spend some time together? Ohhh, "time" when your secret girlfriend is at home in the valley with your secret kids?

TROIS-OR, EVEN BETTER, the one with an equally assholey-colored 2-seater sportscar that I accidentally went on Ixtapa holiday with?
The entire trip he asked if I wanted to do "ack-tiv-i-tay" on the childrens' side of the resort.

Archery, trampoline jumping, tightrope lessons, etc... Are ADORABLE couple vacation activities...had I not found out on the way to the airport that you lied about your age BY FOURTEEN YEARS?

"Ack-tiv-i-tays" are also reasonable for people who PACK SNEAKERS FOR A TEN DAY, 110 degree (Fahrenheit) TROPICAL HOLIDAY. My LYING AND OLD French boyfriend informed me that he couldn't have possibly packed any tennis shoes BECAUSE HE "DOESN'T OWN A PAIR, MY DARLING."

"Ack-tiv-i-tays' might also work for people who do NOT converse this way:
FROG: "My darling, do you have anything for acid-reflux? "
ME: Uh, nope. Why would I pack said meds when I do not suffer from such condition?"
FROG: "I dunno, maybe you just have something soft, like an artichoke or something?"
ME; "What the fuck are you talking about?"

To this day-----> I still have ZERO CLUE as to what he was talking about. An artichoke? A soft artichoke for his creepy, lying, old dude, non-sneaker owning guts???
Equal parts HUH??? + YUCK!!!

no love for frogs- jem gf

banality of evil-cyber edition

The banality of evil is a phrase coined by Hannah Arendt and incorporated in the title of her 1963 work Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil It describes the thesis that the great evils in history generally, and the Holocaust in particular, were not executed by fanatics or sociopaths but rather by ordinary people who accepted the premises of their state and therefore participated with the view that their actions were normal.

ba·nal·i·ty
n. pl. ba·nal·i·ties
1. The condition or quality of being banal; triviality:
2. Something that is trite, obvious, or predictable; a commonplace

I want to discuss the banality of evil that occurs on:

#1-MYSPACE generally ends in tears
#2-TRACEBOOK
#3-SMALLDICK, I mean, WORLD

I'm angry, today. I'm angry when my exes fuck with me on the social networking sites. It is far too dramatic to react ON the above-mentioned sites, because then your personal life truly becomes a soap opera for your bored co-workers, childhood pals, and frienemies to judge.
So, I'm just feeling stuck. The most normal past time of 'tweens has TOTALLY GOTTEN A RISE OUT OF ME. Actually, it is beyond totally 'tweentastic...grandmothers, professors, children, and trash, play all day on the "trite, obvious, predictable commonplace."
I'm angry that I care enough about the most pedestrian, pop culturey, fad bullshit to have an opinion AT ALL.
Facebook is starting to disconnect me with others. Rather than doing something enjoyable such as talking and eating and dancing and drinking with my friends, I'm angry about little ungrammatical notes and photos in cyberspace, while chained to my desk?

Another day, I will divulge my conspiricay theroies about the CIA and their role in this, but for today, just some simple requests:

1.If we were ever engaged, do NOT comment on pictures of MY family on the regular. Read your baby name books with your babymama and leave MY kinfolk outta' your daily picture comment wit and charm parade.

2.If we recently dated, do NOT fill up MY BEST friends' walls with private, insider humor, pet name jokes that are reserved for PEOPLE IN THE GROUP. YOU are NOT in the GROUP ANY LONGER. Your brief stint, where you became privy to the group and their language, was dependent upon the very important variable of US DATING.

3. AND. AND. AND. Do NOT put up PUBLIC profile pictures that I was once IN and am now cropped OUT OF and/or profile pictures where you WROTE MY NAME ALL OVER YOURSELF WITH A SHARPIE WHEN WE WERE IN LOVE.

HEY! EX-Fiancée #3--->Take it EASY, ok?

HEY! HEY! Dude that I dated for a week---> I have already spent the better part of an afternoon deleting the sharpie pics, dickpics, pics of you coming, profile shots, headshots, pics of your kid, pics of you and your kid, pics of the football team that you coach, pics of you with at-risk youth, pics of you waking up, pics of you smoking, pics of you after you had shaved, pics of you driving, pics of you and your business partners, pics of your open button-down shirt exposing your chest FOR FUCKS SAKE, from my Blackberry.

My phone can finally breathe from the weight of your 85-picture-narcassitic-bombardment being lifted from its memory, now COULD I PLEASE HAVE REST OF MY CREEPY TECH SOCIAL LIFE BACK?

Sign out-jem gf

homework night

I'm just sitting at my table, trying to study...

These are the conversations that are interrupting me:

Friend #1) My heart is racing and beating irregularly. (My heart, made from pig valves after open-heart surgery.) I think I'll go to Mr. Chow, anyway.

Friend #2) How can you MAKE ME DRIVE UP SUCH A HILLY ROAD WITH SO MANY TURNS when I have been throwing up. (From special K.) And I just crashed my Range Rover into a paraplegic at Whole Foods. Where can I get a juicer? I need to do the Master Cleanse.

Friend #3) I would love to go to NA meetings with you. We can talk about how you shouldn't be a hooker and I shouldn't suck dick, to be "functional" junkies. Man, I'm lucky I don't have tits or I would never stop.

Even in dextox January, I'm never going to run outta' material.

love- jem gf

YOU are a $1.2 Trillion Deficit ...

...AT LEAST

It is break-up station in LA right now. There are 8-12 friends with broken hearts as we speak. Man, people are hurting. Like good friends do, we talk in circles about what was so good and what was so bad about X=the ex.

Ahhhhh-I am remembering how exciting it is to
be impressed
excited
fall in love
be hopeful
play team...

Man, that stuff is FUN! I think that I do it over and over just for the first part
(ahhgmm, como se dice "addict"?)...

NEW DUDE: "So, how many times have you said 'I LOVE YOU' in your relationships thus far? I, mean, this might be, like the fourth time for me, soooo..."
ME: "Uh, forty-seven-ish, maybe?"

DEFICIT:
1) the property of being an amount by which something is less than expected or required
2)a deficiency or failure in neurological or mental functioning
3)(sports) the score by which a team or individual is losing
4) an excess of liabilities over assets (usually over a certain period)

Falling in love is AWESOME!
Learning each others' deficiencies is NOT!
Breakin' up is hard to do, but EASIER when your former other half is a walking, talking deficit doll.

love love- jem gf

logically

I have always had a job. I always work. I always study, work, and participate in my active social life. Since I was born.

While I continue to pursue this whole "doctor thing"-I stand in party dresses for a living. Yup. Just stand. Sometimes I say "hi" to people, but mostly just stand. I don't do sales. I don't do anything. For four years I have been standing/greeting/hanging out in beautiful clothes. My "job". Where I "work". I realized that the endless amounts of free clothes/shoes created an "I don't care about shopping" problem. I really don't. I don't ever think about it. My friends talk to me about "needing", "wanting", "have-to-having" new items and I just stare inta' space. Too many years as a fashion dolly/monkey. Too much free stuff. I do not care about "FUN CLOTHES", anymore.

Prior to standing, I was an (underage) bartender for many years. Ages 15-20-something …Just getting blasted on shots, dancin' on the bar, after-hours, etc...And guess what? Too many years of concoctions led me to only prefer straight booze, no mixer, and no ice. Patron, Bakers, Bookers, Fernet, Sapphire Martini. (Actually, not even a martini, 'cuz I don't want vermouth. Just super cold and dry as a bone.) This job made me not care about "FUN DRINKS", anymore.

Now that shopping and lychee martinis out of the way, there is just one more distraction...

So, the next logical "work while in school" career move would be hooking, right? If I HOOK for years and years, I will not care about "FUN BOYS", anymore!!!

Phew! Thank Christ my wheels are turnin', again.

Love-jem gf

health and fitness, health and fitness

Dear diary,

Whenever I think that
dextox/
cleanse/
dry out/
exercise/
focus/
being a good woman/
catching up/
sleeping/
eating/
thinking/
keeping my dick in my pants/
time managing/
waking up in the morning...

...breathe...and...

...IGNORING
cheesedick/
dickbag/
club rat/
ex-bf/
ex-sleepingfriend/
current sleepingfriend/
your friend's sleepingfriend/
drug dealers/
ex-drug dealers/
chumps/
playboys/
geriatrics/
playboy geriatrics/
junkies/
junkie-cutter-dads/
rockstars with girlfriends/
threesome requests (only 5 today!!!)/
children from the club/
promoter/promoter/promoter texts...

...breathe...
…is BORING...
...I remember that I am FULLY Patsy from "Absolutely Fabulous" if I keep it up.


goodnight-jem gf

fuck goop

On account on my New Years Eve resembling none other than "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" in terms of how fucked up I was/ the company I kept... it is dry-out-January-detoxify time!

I have just finished preparing my detox meal prep for the week that I took off of Gwyneth Paltrow's FUCKING TERRIBLE BLOG. OH MY FUCKING GOD, I hate "GOOP", the blog, SO BAD!!! It is pretentious and boring and my guilty pleasure of the world. Like, how people watch "The Hills", I read this god-awful dribble every week. It is mostly 'cuz I think maybe if I channel this snot-attack pretentiousfest energy, that I can be a rich, beautiful, successful, calm, healthy, socialite with an equally rich and successful rocker hubby and perfect kids in perfect homes in perfect neighborhoods and blog about how my shamans and Zen masters will help us get through the holidays with our in-laws. Really. It is true.

So, here I am, being a heath obsessed bore and talking about it as if anyone cares.

I'm finished preparing my raw crudite with carrot and ginger dressing and my other no dairy, grains with gluten, meat, shellfish, anything processed (including all soy products), fatty nuts, nightshades (potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and eggplant), condiments, sugar and obviously no alcohol, caffeine or soda menus for the next two weeks. Ima go do some yoga and make a list of some more ways to "nourish my inner aspect" (fucking bitch) and grow up to be just like Gwenny.

love-jem gf

cheaters love overachievers

I have willfully chosen single girl status for the last four years. I have dated (half the country) and even had relationships part of the time. OPEN relationships.

1-After breaking off 3 engagements, I think that this is reasonable and healthy.

2-I love alone time.

3-I have a commitment problem.
3a-This could also be filed under ; "a sex addiction problem"

4-I am really fucking busy. For real busy. Psycho busy.
4a-Full time school/Full time job/Full time social life

5-All signs point to remaining without a proper boyfriend 'till i sort out schedule/career/mental problems, right?

I have learned how fun it is to have the above list for a sleeping friend! I do not want a boyfriend. I REALLY don't want to get married (apparently). I have my own career/do not want your money. I am only free late night and leave early morning, way before breakfast. I am too busy to be on your nuts. AND-I don't even really want to go to dinner because I really need those precious free meals to catch up with friends.

I have also learned that touring musicians (drummers, lead singers), working actors( film and tv series), successful businessmen (venture capital, film executives) work well with the formula. They are self-involved and not around/in the same city most of the year.

What a pleasant tale this is!
...Until you learn that your honesty and integrity mean nothing in terms of the above mentioned dudes wanting their cake and to eat it, too. I have found (much too late, unfortunately) that many of the above mentioned dudes ALSO keep secret long term girlfriends/ even WIVES and lie their faces off to the perfect sleeping friend who asks nothing. Hmmmph. What a drag.

AND, actually, CHICKS DO THIS ALL OF THE TIME, TOO!!! I see girls BBD their "boyfriends" for celebs every damn day in this town!!!

I suppose I will have to stop shagging rich/famous/busy as me dysfunctional dudes and be a normal person with a normal set of expectations?

The bottom line is- I do not back cheaters/cheating/lying/stealing. I have OPEN relationships for this reason. I can NOT commit, so why say it? Why do they say it? You can have anything you want/do anything you want in this world...why do you wanna be a cheater?

love-jem gf

demon seeds

Demon seed is the new name for a really bad person. Really bad.
This is not because I was raised religious. I just happen to think it is the most perfect phrase.

My adorable Mother loves her some Lutheran Church, mostly for socializing and giving back to the community. Humanistic parenting? maybe ? was her inspiration to let me choose my own higher power? My teenage influences (books and boys) pointed me on the path to Eastern philosophy/religion. She tells people, " My daughter is, like, A Buddhist, now, or something."
Taoist, really, but I am just thankful she has never pushed anything on me.

Ahahah, not even the day when I came home from high school and she was vacuuming my teenager room. I walked in, a little nervous that she had found my drugs, but, nah, she was just eying my copy of "The Satanic Bible". She turned off the vacuum to ask me, (in valley girl voice), "Ah, are you, like, a devil worshiper, now?" I explained that I was simply researching my Satanic, drug-addict, 6-years my elder, monster movie loving, darksider, but, still punk rock boyfriend's higher power, so I could properly discuss religion with him. "I NEED TO UNDERSTAND SO THAT I CAN STAY POSITIVE AND COMMUNICATE, MOMMMM." And we were all good.

Now, you are correct to assume that identifying with Taoist principals would not encourage me to speak badly of anyone, but I have a lot of work to do.

Demon seeds encourage you to do enough drugs to wipe out a small village when you said that you QUIT. Demon seeds fake accidents at work so that you pick up slack while they watch cable all day. Demon seeds take you for a ride, talking all the while about what "good people" they are, when they really have bad, bad, bad person intentions. Demon seeds will FOR SURE fuck your other half and lie to your face. Demon seeds prolly missed out on some childhood attachments. Demon seeds pretend to be your best girlfriend, when really, actually, they just made a DEAL with a millionaire playboy. (Deal="Get that new girl in town to fuck me and you can have a most serious shopping spree".)

I have had far too many demon seeds in my world, as of late. I need to have an exorcism. It will probably involve staying the fuck out of the club, off of the sauce, and deleting many contacts.


love-jem gf