Bender

um, yeah. hi.

where've i been?

in rehab with sweet, sweet lindsay, of course.

For shame, for shame

let me ask you a question.

is britney spears still hot?

like, all the right parts are there. and i'm sure if you had great researchers investigate, they would determine that she absolutely should be.

and yet ... no.

if you look at her one body part at a time, she's all right. put together? not so good. it's as if some mad scientists fashioned their ideal version of a woman, all "weird science" and shit, but something along the way went horribly awry.

i banged her anyway last night.

i blame the vodka and red bull. plus, she promised me cheetos.

Another pure nite

oh, fuck yeah.

(that pic is me going all, "whoop! whoop!" and dancing my azz off!!)

while you suckas were sitting at home this weekend, i was at Pure in VEGAS BABY! with my girl lindsay, who is totally clean and sober and fresh out of 45 days in rehab.

and by "45 days in rehab" i mean "boob job in malibu." have you seen my angel lately? she is STACKED. she makes me wanna eat some grapefruit.

so anyway, now she has this "alcohol bracelet" around her ankle that is supposed to let the judge know when she drinks anything with alcohol.

silly judge.

in addition to an alcohol bracelet, she would need an ecstacy bracelet. and a blow bracelet. and a meth bracelet. and on occasion, a horse tranquilizer bracelet.

and maybe an anal sex bracelet for good measure.

and really, her ankles aren't big enough for all of those. her bones might crumble into powder, and then she might snort them. that would be so sad.

i've been up for like two days straight. can u tell? vegas is so fucking crazy.

HA! nicole richie is having my baby.

i hope grandpa lionel is prepared to be dancing on the ceiling -- with my love child. cuz my sperm is tight, yo!

the irony is, it happened right after we saw the movie "knocked up." i swear, you get a little blow and some Goobers into that girl, and she is putty in your hands.

she's going to get so fat.

That Little Blonde Whore

Holy fucking shit. I just woke up from Paris' post-prison party.

What day is it? Where am I? And why is my fur so matted?

More soon.

crash into me

fuck on a stick.

i was leaving teddy's last nite, driving down the street to my house and somehow my car jumped the curb.

and i don't understand, because i was totally just texting on my sidekick and talking on my blackberry and putting my ipod on shuffle and trying to grab my little baggie of blow ... when BAM!

how the hell does that happen?

I'm as high as a kite, oh me oh my ... no i'm not

now that jessica and john are thru, she's been coming over all the time and messaging my sidekick.

she sent this text yesterday that was like, "yr body iz wonderland."

and i'm like. "no way."

and she's like "iz true. somethin bout the way yr hair falls in yr face; i lurve the shape u take when crawling to the pillowcase. u tell me where to go and though i might leave 2 find it, i'll never let yr head hit the bed without my hand behind it. u want love? we'll make it, swim in a deep sea of blanketz."

and i'm all, "bitch. how you type so fast?"

then i told her to shut up and give me some rum and ritalin.

that girl loves her ritalin. think of it this way -- you've seen how much she loves that motherfucking proactiv skin shit? multiply that by 100 and cover it in nacho cheese, and that's how much she goes crazy for ritalin.

EXCEPT. she brought over dexedrine last night. not ritalin. i guess her hookup was out of town. PLUS, it was still $240 for 120 pills.

whatever. no wonder nick divorced her.

at least it works.

Grapes of Wrath

i thought i'd make a quick trip to napa to relax before i start shooting for "weeds." just got back this morning.

best part of napa:

* drunk waitresses.
* public boozing encouraged.
* convenient wine spit buckets in which to vomit.
* Triscuits everywhere.
* drugs frowned upon -- so hey, more for me!
* can enthusiastically punch douchebags who quote "sideways" and a crowd will cheer you on.
* no stupid poor people. they can't afford it.

worst part of napa:

* NO FUCKING OPPOSABLE THUMBS WITH WHICH TO HOLD A CORKSCREW.

Little Boxes and Bourgeois Conformist Values

as you might or might not know, i haven't been working a lot lately. yeah, i know a cat can't just go out and party and drink and bang chicks all the time ... but it's so much fun. and it's so hard to get up before noon. and work is boring.

so anyway, this morning my agent called and said he had a sweet gig for me. so i took a quick bath and gave myself a good lick-over, then headed to showtime studios.

hells yeah. i got a guest spot on muthafuckin "WEEDS."

i love "weeds"!!! and coincidentally, i love weed! (also, it helps that mary-louise parker is a sweet piece of old ass. i'm totally going to get on that shit.)

now this is a job i can be dedicated about. and i plan on doing a LOT of research.

in fact, i just got back from the medical marijuana dispensary. oh yeahhhh ...



god bless california. and god bless my glaucoma.

paris in the springtime

crap crap crap.

paris is going back to jail.

ugh. she is definitely getting a book deal now!

do you know what i would pay for that kind of publicity? how come i'm not going to jail? it's just not fair.

What'd you THINK you'd get?

1. i noticed a person found this blog by searching for "how to make cat meth." what the fuck, freak? you don't know how to make cat meth? well, i'm not going to tell you.

2. fuck paris.

except i already did. snap!~

long-azz weekend adventures

i am so tired today.

i was so upset about the whole lindsay thing (btw, she is SUCH a bitch), that i was all prepared to hole myself up in my place and drink a lot of rum and play hemingway with my favorite shotgun.

then my friend charlie sheen stopped by. and that guy knows a thing or two about breakups.

so charlie really wanted to show me that there are other fish in the sea. (and by "other fish in the sea," he meant a hooker named delite and her twin sister sable. but i think they had crabs.)

we spent the weekend at my place drinking courvoisier and playing vaseline twister.

the girls wanted more money when charlie wanted to slap them around and call them denise, and he got all gangsta and started shouting about "i don't need you hos! i can get my own women! and without paying for them!"

he wanted to prove it by picking up some hot sorority chicks at the ucla bars -- so went went out for a while, but he failed miserably.

we ended up at his house. alone. playing wii.

whee.

i don't think i've slept in two days, and my head hurts so bad! like, migraine-style. what day is it?

Becuz thin is IN

Ha ha ha ha ha.

the tabs are totally mocking my friend nicole richie for having a party last week and only allowing guests who are under 100 pounds.

who the fuck cares? if you're over 100 pounds, let's face it -- you're a whale.

besides, i have nothing to worry about. i'm twelve pounds, bitches! let's see you compete with that.

Ground Control to Major Linds

What the fuck, lindsay?

you don't know how a phone works anymore?

i think once you even texted during SEX. and now you can't figure out how to manage your effing sidekick? does sobriety mean that you've lost your magical messaging power? you could at least CALL.

that sweaty douchebag was right. you are a firecrotch.

you know what? rehab is for LOSERS. and i know. i've been to rehab before. (not the real one, like betty ford or something. but that fake one that mel told me to go to.)

stay in rehab, loser. what do i care? i have my tequila to keep me warm.

btw, what happened to that bjork mix CD i made for you? i want it BACK.

The Blue Stuff is the Best

junkie steve told me that the best way to get over a hangover is to down a half bottle of mouthwash and chase it with a red bull.

and he should know. (his bff is robert downey jr.)

actually, i am feeling quite good right now.

reality, my friends, is NOT my forte. why lead the sober life when an altered one is so much fun?

speaking of that, that crazy bitch britney wants to see me tonight. i might go, i might not. maybeee i'll play pool with her cue ball head.

An Open Letter to Lindsay

dear lindsay,

i am so sorry.

i am so sorry i opened the champagne friday night to celebrate the beginning of a budding romance.

i am so sorry about the fight we had saturday morning, which made you drive away so fast, squealing your tires and leaving me behind in the dust.

i am so sorry i gave you my usable amount of blow. i should have known better. (let's face it, you are not the greatest behind the wheel. we ALL know that. btw, you should really think about getting a driver.)

and mostly, i am so sorry that you are not allowed conjugal visits in your new rehab facility.

i don't know where we stand anymore, snookie-wookums. remember when you stroked my hair and said that you love me more than vodka? well, i just wish you would prove it sometimes.

i really thought we were on to something, but mayeb it was just your stupid addiction talking.

i'm so tired, and i'm like totally cried out right now. i need some sleep. where's that bottle of Ketel One you left at my place? effing hell. i'm just going to have a little sip and try to sleep.

i wonder how your rehab is going to change things between us. will you still text me? will you still call? do i still mean anything at all?

i can't think about this anymore.

i love you, lindsay. love you 4-eva!

XOXO

La-La-Love

oh lindsay lindsay lindsay.

you are my life, my love, my light.

and you will also be my curse.

last night with u, holed up in my bed, snuggling, working on lyrics for ur new album ... then dancing at hyde ... then staying up staying up until dawn ... MAGIC. that's all i can say.

but why did u leave so fast?

i didn't want u to go.

for the longest time i thought i didn't have a heart, but ur the angel who has caused it beat again. i can feel again.

my pulse has quickened. i'm on the edge of my seat. i just want to tell the world everything, everything, everything!

by the way, do i have something on my nose?

Thou Shalt Carry Books

you want to hear something funny?

the other night paris called me and was like, "so, like, you know, now that i'm going to jail, i'm trying to change my image and all ... do u have any advice about what i should do?"

and of course, i thought, "eat a sandwich and wear a bra and stop being a whore."

but i didn't tell her that. noooooo.

i was all high, so i thought it would be funnee to play a joke on her. and so i said, "ooh! you should find god. it worked for johnny cash."

(because i think that was part of "walk the line." wasn't it? only i'm not sure because i was totally rocked during that movie and was watching it with a cheap vegas hooker.)

and i told paris that it would be extra cool if she would carry around some spiritual-type book and, like, a copy of the holy bible or something.

and you know what? she actually did it!

oh, ho ho ho hee hee hee.

that shit be so funny.

now she's in the national enquirer and star and us and all of those mags, and they're talking about how she's all religious now because of these books.

yeah, like she can read.

omg. next time i'm going to tell her to build an ark. it'll be effing hysterical.

dippety doo dah

did u know they make meth now that tastes like strawberrrries?

did ya? did ya? did ya?

did u know that NOT britney but some of britney's people know how to get it?

did ya? did ya? did ya?

did u know u can party all night and clean the house and go shopping and hang out and jump in the pool and come back and clean the house again and have a bottle of wine before you even START to feel tired?

did ya?

omg. i friggin love strawberries.

The Wine is Mine

WTF?

amy winehouse got married this weekend?

we were just making out like last week or something.

amy, call me.

Mistakes Were Made

this is javier. i met him at ponytail's one-year anniversary party. i only went because spank rock was playing, and it was time for me to get out of the house. after the binging of last week i needed to do some dancing. booty shakin!

nicky and paris made an appearance, but i'm so over those biznatches.

there were shots at the bar and everything happened so fast. drink, drank, drunk. of course. i ran out da club into the alley across the street, and i just wanted to rest my head for a second.

and there was javier.

i went back to his place in los feliz for some white wine. and you know, i've always been a little bi-curious. so whatever, whatever.

but now he's calllling me. like all day long. and i just don't even want to deal with that scene. you know what i'm sayin?

Can't. Stop. Eating.

i'm on this non-stop binge.

i can't stop eating.

yesterday it was corndogs and beer. and then pink cupcakes from sprinkles.

day before it was crap food from panda express. (but my fortune says, "you will soon be the center of attention.")

today it's pretzels and corn on the cob and just about everything else. i even ate some frozen cookie dough. i'm totally going oprah here.

i tried to call up one of the anorexics, but mary kate is not answering her phone. wtf?

i'm gonna go to whole foods and get some of those colon blow pills.

Get High With a Little Help From ...

it's been the weirdest week. i feel kind of dizzy and dazed.

here's my friend, plonk.



he's kind of a crazy cat who lives in westwood. he's always on bad crank but he makes some crazy good organic beer in his bathroom, so i keep him around sometimes. especially when i want to keep it real. plonk is a guy who keeps my head on straight.

last nite plonk and i went to an art show with milla jovovich. it was just crap made out of broken plates. then the two of them went back to her place together, and i felt more alone than ever before.

they bonded over some broken plate art? give me a break!

then i came home and ate some avocado. it makes my thighs look like hell, but who cares. i haven't exercised in a month and i've been drinking too much and my sleep is all shot to hell unless i pass out and so what? none of it matters.

saturrrday in the park

this morning/afternoon when i woke up i had a shot of wheatgrass and some jamba, but that wasn't doing it for me, so i opened up some bubbly instead.

nothing wrong with a little champsies in the afternoon. it's just like a mimosa at brunch, except i skipped the orange juice bullshit.

but then i still didn't have naything to do, so i invited over nicole to watch flavor of love and drink a bottle of wine for me, a pitcher of diet tonic and ketel one for her.

now i'm all bleary eyed and i haven't even gone to the roxy yet. bleh,. i'm supposed to meet some people there in five hours, and i know i can't get behind the wheel of my porche like this.

why oh why did i get so effing drunk already????

some people might call this a problem. i call it saturday.

screw this noise. i'm going to go buy a nano. that'll make me feel better. and maybe a little drinksy for the road.

Bluesday

sometimes i party too much and i drink too much and i don't know who my real friends are and everything is so fake and i don't even recognize myself in the mirror anymore and i feel so lost ...



and so alone ...



so so alone ...



YEAH LIKE YOU'VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY AT 4 AM BEFORE,



keep on hating, haters.



i know what's real.



this pain. that;s real.

21 jump street

aoki and danny and i left the party at adrien's to head over to the viceroy.

we proceeded to wreck some shit, totally old-skool johnny depp-style. we were like, "ha ha ha. thar be pirates!"

you wanna know my favorite pirate joke?

q: how much does a pirate pay for corn?

a: buccaneer.

effing hilarious.

tonite tonite tonite i'm going to see my ol' friend hef at the playboy mansion. good times for this pussy.

Oh me oh my my my

When did they start making whiskey bottles so small?

hell.

headed to adrien grenier's tonight for party and triscuits. and then we're going to prank call piven, because he deserves it. that guy stole some of my hairballs for his toupee. how gross is that?

Rokkkkin photos

here are some pics i took at la la coachellllaaaaa ...

this guy, his name is mike. we put makeup on our faces and drank daquiris and stripped naked to put on some balloon clothes.





got trashed with amy winehouse. that chick is fun, man. she knows how to rock a body. we were making out when danny devito wanted to join in, and i was like, "how did you get into the vip section?"





took some eeee and hung out in the funkyass dome. whee!






and then i ran into drew and cameron. they wanted to put on teddybear heads that they had stolen from this swedish band, so they could walk around without being noticed. i thought it was stupid, especially since it was so effing hot. but i did it anyway. later those teddybears rokkked it.

You Know What Sucks?

Waking up. Thats what sucks.

Thank god I ended up running into pete d. and his babyshambles of a girlfriend. Kate was in the bathroom when these pics were taken.

Better Than The Hills

i skipped the party at the roosevelt last night to hang out with the brats from laguna beach. annoying as hell, but their parents get the better pills, so i put up with it.

oxycontin, baby!

they also like their ritalin, especially with a mojito.

fun fun fun. Ha hah a ha.

Passed out again

not sure what happened last night.

around 9 Paris texted me on my Sidekick.

i was all, "hey slut!"

and she was like, ":bitch please."

she's trying to get her fill of soju-tinis before heading off to the clink. So we rolled up to hyde, but wouldn't you know it? lindsay was in the bathroom again.

one thing led to another, and here i am passed out on some IKEA bullshit chair in studio city. who goes to studio city?

my mouth tastes like dog, and i'm totally out of cigarettes. WTF?