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.