What the Hell is going on

Dear America,

When did it become OK to look so hideous? Do you have no self respect?

Is this some kind of a sick joke?

Unless that umbrella turns into a vibrator you have nothing to be smiling about.

West Hollywood Find

Do you need your shoes to do the walk of shame?


She didn't.


Cinderella left her bootie by the curb and bolted.

When it comes to mini backpacks.. Just. Say. No.

Um. Can I get a close up please?

I take that back.

What the H-E- double hockey sticks is she saying with this collage of atrocities which decorate her torso?

Cropped yellow and orange stripes and a MINI BACKPACK.

And they let her into the grocery store like that! She got to do what all the normal dressed people do. She even got to stand in the same line as us!

Warning:
Coming to a Grocery Store Near YOU.
If approached: get in car, go home, sanitize.

And so I asked the Zebra...

"Are you Black with White Stripes? or White with Black Stripes?"

-S. Silverstein


Calling all faux Dooney and Burke bag owners. Please buy these leggings.

They will match your bag.

Offer guaranteed. or your chips returned.


Just looking at these makes me feel sweaty.

Purple People Eater

Hollywood Blvd Find:

I was lucky enough to get a stop n' pose on this specimen.

it's amazing what we can look like if we try!
Take note of her heart sunnies.

All tied up with a hair piece from Wigs 4 Us and cheek studs.


Do I have a feather in my mouth or do I just have to spit?

I see London, I see France

I see your thong sticking out of your pants!

ICK! Double ICK!

Now, THIS, my pleasure treasures, is a situation.
Keep it in your pants babe. You've left nothing to the imagination and I no longer want to sleep with you.

I can't even remember if I wanted to before, but now I know for sure. I don't want to.

Pink PantHurt.

One day you may be so lucky to find such a treasure at your very own local CVS Farmacy.


But don't count your chickens before they hatch..


This is the first and hopefully (God help me) the last time I share a parking lot with a headache like this.

You really should be careful where you go during the day, especially on weekends and during the workweek.

It's a circus out there.

Is this art?

In venturing out to the Bev Hills (Beverly Hills) Art Show "Affaire in the Gardens" you prepare yourself for a nice relaxing stroll through the exhibits and stands. Your ears perk up to the sounds of mellow jazz, and you wet that palate for a zesty white afternoon wine spritzer.

Everything is going swimmingly until you turn a corner and are practically bulldozed by an eclectic horror story of mesh, lace, polyester, and Madonna in "Desperately Seeking Susan." Plus one oversized Louis Vuitton shoulder bag.


Who needs Fright Nights or a haunted hayride when you can lose your toast by visiting the art show?
Bev, you should have warned me.

Where the Wild Things Are

I know it's hard for some of us to contain our Jurassic side. I mean who doesn't want to flaunt their er..curves.. in a sexy leopard print?

And if anyone is, I'm a softy for leopard print in many a variation.
I mean, come on, have you seen my bed pillows?
No? Well, I bet you've seen hers ~^

However, there's a time and a place for all leopard-ness. Please look around you lady.

This disaster crawled into a party I recently attended and at first glimpse I caught hot flashes and was forced to step outside. I must have the menopause, I thought. But no no. It was just this creation infecting my anxiety levels. (which I have to say, as of late, have been quite static)

Until this wreck to my nervous system.

If tonight is your night to be the wild and crazy drunk girl who dons an animal print, please buy and wear cautiously. And if you choose this garb, I do hope you choose to rent, rather than make a real live purchase.

~~Thank you for wearing a bra and panties, but no one wants to see them, hon~~

Is that nylon or plastic?

Some situations cannot be avoided. Like a mansion house pool party situation. It's warm out, you live in California, you want to consume some liquid beverages (as most beverages seem to be), it's Sunday...

In going to said mansion house pool party situation you may come across something similar to the above.

Umm hello Paris-esque yellowy gold catastrophe partnered with wedges made of baskets and some type of flowery kimono. I don't believe I missed you, but welcome back into my line of vision.

If this is your favorite look, restrain yourself. Choose the lighter option, with less calories and sans the Vegas shimmer.


Cheers

Disgusted

I just came across this piece of work..... ~~~>

<~~~~ a similar version.

Normally I like Urban Outfitters to some extent but this is just plain chaos.

Where do some designers get off? What are you guys trying to say with this atrocity?

For full viewing pleasure you can find alternative views and pricing at www.urbanoutfitters.com

Search for the "Urban Renewal Cold Shoulder Denim Shirt"

I suggest you bring a bucket.

Cheater

I am a cheater. There I said it. Not like it’s hard to say. I’ve said it many times before. I have cheated on every single boyfriend I have ever had. And you know I don’t regret it at all. Sure I don’t want to hurt people or humiliate them, but honestly I only have one life and I’m going to enjoy it and do what I want when I want to do it.

Now, my first boyfriend was a lovely little boy named, well I’m not going to put his real name so let’s called him Mickey Mouse, Mousy for short. Mousy was in love with me, so he said. He begged me to go out with him. I said no, no, and no again. Finally I give in and what happens? Boom, he breaks my adolescent, prepubescent heart. Now you’re probably thinking, now she just hates men because of this one incident. Wrong, my little flowers. I don’t blame him at all. We were in high school. We were kids. We wanted fun, excitement, newness. He got me and moved on. Good for him. He never knew that while we were “dating” I was also “dating” 2 to 3 other guys, or at least was kissing them. oh high school.

Let’s move on to college because that’s when the real relationships begin. When I began my freshman year I was dating a guy I had met back in high school. Let’s call him Hunter. Hunter and I went to schools one hour away from each other. It was LONG DISTANCE. Red flag people. Red Flag. We dated for a total of 9 months. In month 2 of 9 I met Warren. Warren was easy going, cute. More importantly, Warren was there. I started seeing Warren every weekend, every other day, a little too much I suppose. But what’s a girl to do? So then I find out my innocent little Hunter was doing the same thing as me, however he got caught. I broke it off, his fault. Over and done with, and I’m the good guy. It worked out well.

I continued on with Warren until summer session when he went back home and I stayed to take a summer course. Who should I meet? No other, than the mysterious Sunny. I really wanted him. I really had to have him. So I did. Then after I had him I broke up with Warren.

Then it got really messy. I went abroad to Italy to study. X-boy Warren did as well. Dating Sunny from afar and seeing Warren everyday up close?? He was the only person I really knew there. Pretty much my only option. I had to have him. So I did.

I broke it off with Sunny by phone. Hey, sorry. long distance.

Back to America; now who do I want? I want Warren. No, I want Sunny. No. I want someone else.

Now, let me add in here that during my 4 years of high school and 4 years of college I would frequent my cousin’s house in Orlando each summer. Orlando is the home of many summer loves. One in particular; who I have now managed to hook up with at least thrice during every single one of my serious relationships.

I don’t have any regrets. I never felt really bad about this. I still don’t. I mean maybe for a hot second I felt a twinge of ouch, I really hurt him.. But you get over it. And keep living. Maybe this is because I never truly cared for them, which is possible. But I did care for them. I deeply cared. I just cared more about myself. You probably think this is selfish and immature behavior. You’re right, I’m selfish. But think about it. The human being is an animal. We are attracted to other human beings. Human nature does not have a manual which reads “pick soul mate, buy ring, share bed, reproduce, have family dinner.” No. We are made to procreate, but not with just one other human. We are not made to wear a band of metal to bind us forever to this other body.

In order to live your life there has to be some degree of selfishness in you. You come first in your life. I believe in enjoying the lives we are given and taking full advantage of time everyday. Be that with one significant other or with many.

Notes for your endeavors (you bad bad girls you):

1. If you are going to lie, at least believe it yourself.

2. Long distance doesn’t work, but it’s cute to try

3. If you get caught in the act, jigs up

4. Leave with all your clothes

5. And remember, he’s probably doing it too, or at least thinks about it.

Mr. Married..who I'm dating.

I woke up this afternoon from a half drunken sleep and realized I’m dating a married man. A 49 year old married man. I’m not sleeping with him. Obviously. He’s married. He just takes me out a lot, texts me “goodnight,” and emails me musical greeting cards.

Now maybe Mr. Married wants to make me happy. Maybe he just really loves my charisma, my youthful energy, my fashion sense. Maybe he wants to show me the world (a.k.a Los Angeles). Even though I’ve lived here six years, I’ve seen very little of it with him. I’m not one to even date older men. Except for the few I met through that website “oldergentlemeninsearchofyoungladies.com”. Which, by the way, I only joined because it is undeniably impossible to meet a boy, guy, man, in LA who is worth even two minutes of the 25 years I would put into trying to change him. So, yeah, I gave online dating a try. I figured I deserved a sugar daddy for a few weeks. Well Mr. Married found me on his own, sans website. You’ve gotta give him props for getting a 26 year old hot blonde right? I mean, I do.

How did we meet? I work in advertising. Advertising is not as glamorous as it sounds. I work in a small firm in Culver City. The walls are gray. My parking spot is the worst one in the garage. I don’t get special perks or free stuff. Well, once I got a free vibrator. But I wasn’t at work.

I really just hate working. I would prefer to gab on g-chat with my friends while they are at their respective jobs than ever attend a department meeting, or even answer a phone. If you’ve never heard of g-chat it’s the chat on Google Mail. Changed my life. They should make t-shirts.

So Mr. Married is a client of one of our sales reps. We met at this ridiculous sales and clients “party” at a cocktail lounge in Venice Beach. Clients flew in from various US cities and we all schmoozed and boozed. I did more boozing than anyone. I did get reprimanded for my behavior at the “party” the following week, but it was just a warning for my “inappropriate demonstration with a barstool and perhaps could I wear pants next time?” Uh. This is a shirt-dress. Whatever.

Anywho, Mr. Married was at the shindig, got my number, and started his courtship.

I don’t know if you work in advertising/sales or not but there is a heavy layer of hanky panky involved in every transaction. The sales reps date the clients. The clients’ wives date the department heads. I’ve flown to Colorado to ski, New Orleans to drink, and NY to dine. And drink. I sound like an escort. Well we’re all in sales.

Mr. Married doesn’t hold my hand. He doesn’t try to kiss me. He just takes me to lovely dinners and always has a gift for me. I know often men seek out one thing from women but I want to see the best in my married man. Maybe he’s having trouble in his marriage and needs a companion. Maybe he just wants my friendship for the time being. I can do that. I just don’t know how or when to cut it off. How do you break up with your married non-boyfriend?