Yesterday was the first day of spring. Which means I am officially a season behind in my goal to have a summer body.
DO I: be a bitch, be informative, be basic, or be relatable?
As Bethenny Frankle would say, "Maybe I actually do know-it-all!"
There is no class system in LA, because nobody has class… Everyone is trash.
Fuck my life, it's my birthday again. I am yet another year older, hate the day's attention, and currently feel there is nothing on my plate worth celebrating.
You don't meet new people, and get in fights with your friends. You never have money, can't afford to lease a Benz.
Heidi left Lauren. Spencer went crazy. Les Deux closed down. ...-And unfortunately the Hills stopped production
We have Gay Pride. We have President's Day. We even have Flag Day honoring flag
Consider it a lower intensity version of hauling sand bags in a hurricane crisis.
...NEVER been sicker
Remember being young and waking up after a night of drinking ...and being able to function? Today was not one of those days.
The seats are filled with fashion trolls, and the models aren't much better
Every day another story breaks about another director, another actor, and another photographer being accused of sexual misconduct...
2018 has been stressful. And people are crazy. Is everyone in LA genetically decomposed to be in a perpetual state of chaos?
These transients who cough without covering their mouth, and refusal to implement proper sanitary practices have left me sick
Here's a last vent before I get my nun costume and join the covent.
"It never gets easier."
Turning my back to 2017, like "new phone, who's this?"
Traveling over the holidays seems to resemble that computer game I played in elementary school, Oregon Trail.
I left sunny California for a week of natural Cryotherapy!
I have decided to turn it into my 3 year plan.
The closest I could relate [to that kind of intimacy] is when I order Domino's and the tracker tells me that the carrier has left for delivery.
It's beginning to look a lot like fuck this.
Sophie's choice... I either had to drop a deuce in a bush or in your pants. Both options are social suicide.
Give great head!
Each day I am shocked to hear yet another new sexual allegation case. It's so disgusting on all accounts.
I hate Thanksgiving. All these fat Americans eating their body weight in complex carbohydrates
I was in the elevator when this fugly toddler went ahead and pressed all the elevator numbers...
I will be answering all your burning questions...
I actively choose not to have kids, so I don't want to hear your little asshole crying, screaming, or running amok when I am at dinner.