Sunday, May 29, 2011


So I have this habit of meeting "important" people, not knowing who they are, making an ass of myself and later learning that I should have asked for a date/job instead of telling them they have a big nose and should wear less denim.

Turns out this guy I was flirting with is some famous artist--Yall know who?

Whatever I hope he calls me ;)

Saturday, May 28, 2011

faking it

Last night I was asked to DJ at an exhibition featuring only pictures of naked girls (Duh).

So I make a bunch of CDs with girly bands like the Cardigans, Garbage, Hole, and probably Toxic by Britney Spears. I dress up like a Barbie and arrive early.

The artist asks me where my speakers are.

"What speakers?"

"What are you gonna play on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, god."

We discover we both thought the other would bring whatever I'd be playing on (I don't even know the name for it because I'm not a real DJ). She starts to panic and I'm like "whatever let's just get a boom box? I'll ask that Chinese kid outside."

I give him money for a taxi and he returns with a tiny white CD PLAYER with about as much volume as my Nokia phone.

Then some other guys come in with a bed I'm apparently supposed to be performing on and I'm like "well I guess I'm not DJing but yes, thanks, my feet were starting to hurt."

People start coming in and there I am, laying in my bed, reading my book and playing my CDs on a prehistoric machine. I decide that they believe I'm part of the Art via a Living Installation Piece? Anyway.

In the end it couldn't have been better, as the boom box and I were a hit (I'm lying they hated me this was taken right before I was kicked out).

Friday, May 27, 2011


So I'll just go ahead and tell yall that I'm in an Abusive Relationship.

It started a few years ago when I saw a ringtone commercial for "Disco Stick." Was this that Gaga woman I had head about? I was behind via living in 3rd World Italy but could see from the clip that we were meant to be.

I looked her up on some underground music blogs ( and saw we had a ton in common. She didn't wear pants, was sexually brash

 and promoted starvation.

I fall in love easily but with her it was instant.

Her first album came out that spring. I arrived at the store before it opened because I was expecting a long line (waiting alone, I realized I may as well be living in Afghanistan). I got the Very First Copy from the Fnac store on via Torino.

Like with any new love, we got along great. We shared boys, fame and money, took lots of drugs and often danced. It was The Perfect Relationship-at first-but even lovers can become boring. Things I once found cute became annoying and what used to be fun put me to sleep. So like in any relationship, I started cheating.

I went back to my favorite Exes; Nico, the depressed one, Brody, the violent one and Britney, the psychotic.

I felt dishonest but couldn't stop.

Luckily she noticed my infidelity and came out with her second album. This one turned gloomy, just like our affair. We still danced, but now in the dark. We still had boys but they were possessive. We saved our romance but it was bad.

This new phase in our love held strong until the abuse started, almost suddenly.

It's hard to say how or why a relationship turns abusive. It can be due to neglect, anger, disappointment (on my part) or carelessness (on hers).

Either way, we had problems.

I used to love her interviews via her always talking about her vagina or "rather dying than not wearing heels." She was brilliant, hilarious and FUN. So why did she turn political?  It's like dating a junkie who decides to get clean, or a rich guy who donates his wealth. Like, I understand the gesture but WHAT ABOUT ME.

Should I start caring about religion now?
And what the hell is AIDS?

In questioning her I began to question myself, which is something I find unbearable. I hoped going to her concert would solve this but unfortunately (and for reasons I don't want to discuss) the only good part of that night was before the show when I was drinking alone in the parking lot and yelling at the Italians for not dressing up.  I've blocked the rest of it out of my memory.

I knew things would never be the same.

I feel betrayed and begin to lash out.
I talk shit behind her back.
I delete her from my iPod.
I start looking for someone new.

After a few months it's as if we were never together at all.

Then Tuesday night (weekly McFlurry Meeting at McDonalds) my friend asks me if I heard her latest album.

"Omg it's out?! How is it?'
"It's terrible, Tea. It sounds like 90s Cher."
"I LOVE 90s Cher!"

I run home and download it.

Why is Make-up Sex the best? Is it because you missed the person or because you can let your anger out on them without seeming like a freak?

We may not agree on everything. I may hate her in a month. But love is forever and when it's there you've got to fight for it no matter what.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

women with more than one cat have deep-seeded issues

Yall remember my friend signing up for

I thought she'd give up by now [via wasting time/money] but so far it's been totally great [for me]. She hasn't found her Soulmate yet but has been entertaining me via sending Profile Information from the worst guys who fill up her inbox. I'm starting to fear her Finding Love as that will put an end to these emails and force me to sign up myself.

Enjoy her latest Admirers' Profiles with some of my interpretations (I couldn't add their pictures; I'm trying not to be cruel).

1) The Vamp

"I'm reading The Vampire Chronicles Collection by Anne Rice. I'm not a huge fan of books, though I like thriller/mystery books. Though I mostly read things on the Internet."

(When I'm not busy being a Dungeon Master you can find me on Vampire Fetish Forums).

"New to on-line dating, recently separated and need to get back out in the dating world after 10 years of being out of the game. Hope I'm not rusty."

(I'm new to dating, haven't seen a woman in 10 years and hope I can get it up). 

"Hoping to meet someone nice that enjoys hanging out. Not looking for anything too serious." 

(Hoping to find someone willing to play the Elf to my Wizard).

2) The Dog 

"They say you can't judge a book by it's cover. I say wait till they make it a movie, then judge it from the comfort of your own sofa...just kidding" 

(He ruined it with the "just kidding").

"I have now been living in DC for 10 years and have been enjoying every minute of it...I like going dancing on a Friday night, having a good brunch on Saturday morning, going out for a cup of coffee on a Sunday afternoon while having a nice conversation with a fun and interesting woman, going to the classical music concert series at the National Gallery...I like independent movies, poetry, pro sports, the opera, I am cery passionate, honest, truthful, hard working...I have a passion for what I do for a living and consider myself very fortunate for it..."

(I absolutely never stop talking and have bored myself into several long-term comas).

"On the weekends, I like to let my inner boy out of his room to play (sometime also during the week)."

(I have a slave living in my closet).

"I hate cats. If a girl has more then 1 cat, she has deep-seeded issues. Dogs are awesome."

(My Ex-Girlfriend had two cats. The first night I could see they were judging me. They were jealous and decided to sabotage our relationship, starting in the bedroom. They would watch me make love to her and silently laugh. She didn't believe me and refused to keep them out of the room so I developed erectile dysfunction.  Then they invaded my dreams. I started having nightmares and couldn't sleep. I felt cat hair all over my body and feared for my life. I asked my Ex to choose between them or me and she left without saying goodbye. Since then I've been staying with my uncle, a dog breeder with an online degree in therapy which has helped me a lot).

"So what do you think? Are you ready to stop browsing and meet someone real?"
"Someone extremely romantic that will love you and you deserve to be loved and will make you feel like the special, unique woman that you are?"
"Can you handle a REAL, GENUINE man?"
"Are you adventurous?"
"Are you ready to start a SERIOUS and committed yet fun relationship with a great man?"
"If so contact me!!!!!"

(Committed yet fun relationship? LOL) 

3) The Winner 

About Me: 
"Obese, balding, socially awkward man seeks supermodel :)"

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

do yall even care

Anyway I blame Toy Story and Anime Porn for forcing me to use computers.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Dear Boys,

Are yall getting sick of girls?
Do yall feel like they're Leading You On?
Like they're "bitches" you don't understand?
Feel like they're only out to screw you over via keeping you from getting screwed?

You're probably right.

I've realized due to recent events that sending "Mixed Signals" is wrong.
It's not OK to tell a guy he'd "look good naked" and then refuse to answer his calls.
It's WRONG to imply you'll go out with someone just so you can wear his clothes.
I'ts misleading to flirt with a boy without the intention of Doing It w/him later.

Most girls don't get that they're being totally unfair and confusing so I've compiled a list for Boys to understand some of the weirdass things we do:

1) Talking

If a girl talks to you she probably wants something from you [via sex or money]. If she asks you questions about yourself she may be interested in your personality but most likely just wants to find out what kind of car you drive and if you still live with your parents.

2) Touching

If a girl touches your leg or your hand it means she's interested. Also if she accidentally brushes against your arm, steps on your foot, throws something at you and/or pushes you away.

3) Kissing

If a girl kisses you on a first date it means she wants to have sex with you. If she refuses to it means she's a tease and/or a lesbian.

4) Calling

If a girl doesn't answer your calls it means she's playing hard to get and wants you to call more and/or just show up at her place. If she calls you shes probably psychotic.

5) F'ing

If a girl is good in bed it means she has tons of other lovers and/or is a prostitute. If she sucks it's best just to push whatever perversion you have on her until she gives in. Or start looking for a guy.

when boys ruin everything

Yall are watching too many Romantic Comedies and/or Internet Porn.

You think it's cool to come over at 5 am because you had a feeling I was "into you" or something (don't know what you're talking about)?

I don't even live here!

Sara only hasn't kicked me out already because she can't get out of bed.

We're watching American Dad.

No you wouldn't like it.

Ok, yes, I said you're hot and that I like your jacket.

I said maybe I'll come to your apartment tomorrow.

SO? I wink at everyone!

No you can't come in (I'm not even wearing makeup)!

You're pushing through the door-seriously?

At least take those horrible shoes off!

Really? Thanks, I got it in Paris!

Yeah, it's really comfortable.

No, I don't want any hash.

Because I don't want to smell like you.

Are you even speaking a language?

Why aren't you wearing your uniform?

Is that a chest tattoo?

It says "La Vita Loca?" Oh my god.

Please go, I have to sleep.

And I'll be keeping this jacket.

sick girl

There are some things you only do for your Closest Friends. Like calling their abortion clinic, pulling them out of K-Holes and nursing them when they are sick. It's good to help friends because that means that they'll "owe you" and you usually get something out of it too.

The past few weekends I've spent studying at my friend Sara's place so when I showed up unannounced this Friday I was offended to find her sleeping rather than welcoming me with affection and booze. Her roommates said she was sick so I let her rest while I stayed in the kitchen and watched Eddy Murphy films dubbed in Italian.

Sara slept through the next afternoon. To kill time I went out for Granita (I thought it was the end of the world and calories wouldn't matter) and when I returned she was even worse.

(How dare she).

I didn't want to go home but also didn't want to watch her suffer (who would cook for me). Problem is I'm usually the friend being taken care of so I skyped my Mom for advice.

She just told me to be "very careful to wash my hands so that I don't get sick too" (#thanks).

I was about to give up till I remembered when  I got my tonsils out and spent a week F'd on pain killers and ice cream. I decided to get her the latter since my drug dealer's in jail and I can use any excuse to see my [fantasy] Lover.

Last week I told the Ice Cream Man I'm in love with him and he told me he has a girlfriend. I told him she doesn't exist until I see her.

So I got dressed up and went downstairs.

I always thought ICM was a loner. I pictured him reading philosophy books in his room and spending his paychecks on opium. Like teachers and doctors, Ice Cream Men shouldn't be allowed social lives outside of work because that kills their image (and our expectations of them). So you can imagine how shocked I was to find him there surrounded by all of his "friends."

He's chatting casually and not wearing his uniform and suddently becomes unattractive. Hearing him discuss anything besides his "Crema" makes me want to barf, which reminds me of Sick Sara and what I came for in the first place. I ask him if he's working.

"No, he'll take care of you."

He points to a skinhead-type with bad tattoos and missing teeth. "Hot," I think, "he'd be perfect if not for his Sketchers." I convince myself the shoes are  a "joke" and that he's from the south. I strike up conversation.

"Who are you?"

"I work here."

"Cool, I live here!"



"Want some beer?"


"You look cold-take my jacket."

His jacket smells good and makes me feel like a Gangster. I order Sara's ice cream and go back upstairs.

I tell Sara about my new Boyfriend. She says he lives on the 3rd floor with his sister and might have a mental disease. I tell her I'll return his jacket tomorrow [with my phone number in the pocket].

I'll knock on his door and he'll open it wearing his uniform. He'll invite me in for coffee and introduce me to his Cats. We'll discuss our childhoods and discover we like the same cartoons. I'll promise to teach him English so he can understand their meaning. I'll take him to a dentist and we'll fall madly in love.

Then I see how great his jacket looks on me and decide that I should keep it.

His sister wouldn't like me anyway.

Friday, May 20, 2011

blakhole boycott

Last night I decided to boycott Vice.

Then I realized you can't "boycott" something that's Free (they can hardly afford to pay their writers) but I can avoid their parties.

Last night I went to a Vice Party/Concert at Black Hole, a horrid club known for tacky lazer lights and fascist door security.

The last time I went to BH was two years ago, when I was chased down the street by security via trying to escape through the back door without paying (didn't know the back door had alarms about as loud as Oprah announcing her guests).

I didn't know I was going there yesterday until I was asked to step out of the cab. (I let my friends take me around blindly as long as they pay for the ride).

When we arrived, My Friend pointed out the Rapper scheduled to perform (duh the only black guy there) and suggested I ask if he wants our non-existant drugs so we can take his money and go.

Obviously a brilliant idea.

I told the Rapper I worked for Rolling Stone and wanted an interview. I asked him questions and pretended to type his answers into my shitty Nokia phone. I'm not sure what we actually talked about but I do remember him saying at one point that he noticed the "Older Italian women don't seem to give up." Whatever that means.

I asked him if he needed a drug dealer and/or would be willing to leave about 1,000 Euros with me. He said he'd let me know.

Then I pretended to take a pictures of him until I ran out of batteries.

When the show started I thought it appropriate to go on stage and dance in my leotard. (I was their drug dealer, after all)!

The bouncers seemed upset and told me to get down. "NO Way," I thought. I hadn't finished my "Born This Way" routine! I blew them a kiss and offered a beer, hoping they'd leave me alone.

One thing led to another and eventually I was thrown into the street like a common loser ("DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!").

Not only am I emotionally scarred (don't make me question my dancing) I also have a bruise on my pretty little arm thanks to one of those Merdas thinking it's OK to treat a Lady badly just for trying to have fun in a city absolutely devoid of it.

I'm not attending another Vice party until I am formally apologized to, sent flowers and/or given those 1,000 Euros I had asked for in the first place.

Thursday, May 19, 2011


Meet our cat Umberto.
He's as psychotic as the girls he lives with and has a love affair with my shoes.
(We're pretty sure he's gay).

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Modern Romance

When I changed apartments I noticed construction workers on my new street. I saw how close to them my room was (hoped I could do some stalking) but didn't imagine how close we would get.

From what I know about relationships (Hugh Grant Movies), they start with superficiality, turn to threatening behavior and develop into love.

My Workers and I were no different.

I was the [Hot?] Innocent Girl cleaning her balcony and they were the [Cliche] Onlooking Offenders. They stared, yelled and tried to make me uncomfortable. I played my part, smiling coyly and acting embarrassed while quietly provoking them more.

The Fox met the Hound, Britney met Kevin, and the Voyeurs met the Exhibitionist.

Our dynamic slowly evolved. Their Cat-Calling turned to Well-Wishing. They saw me less as a Figa and more as a Friend. They started taking cigarette breaks while I studied and waved before I went to work.

I, in turn, stopped closing my blinds and let them into my [pathetic] life. I spent more time on my balcony and asked them what shoes I should wear to school. They showed their approval with a thumbs up.

Every morning I wake up to them. It's like Cinderella, only instead of Birds and Mice, it's Shirtless Men welcoming me into the day. Now I can't get out of bed without them and hope they won't make it to work without me.

They know they need the excitement like I crave the attention.

With this knowledge we've developed a give-give formula essential to any happy alliance (and missing in many affairs today).

Who says relationships require touching? Why must you know somebody to love them? Believers of "God" have never met Him, yet they profess their love profusely. Why should my Workers be different?

Like any relationship, ours will end; they will finish their building or I will move out.

Knowing something will end gives a rational person reason to withdraw themselves from it, but the better option is to indulge in the loss, as that pain proves you had something important (and gives you an excuse to cry).

When we part I'll keep what I learned, which is you don't need to be with someone to love them. In fact, you don't even have to meet.

Today as I was leaving for school I noticed a few of them downstairs. We were finally close enough to speak; we could actually shake hands if we wanted to. We made eye contact. I considered crossing the street and introducing myself.

Instead I walked away.

Talking would have ruined everything.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Hardcore Weekend

"Who needs Drugs and Afterparties when you've got Sweets and Piano?"

If you tell yourself something enough times, it eventually becomes true.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

its not personal its business

My two biggest [only] fans are my Sister and my Mother.

They think [hope] I'll strike Fame via my "Talents" (which as far as I know consist of flirting and painting my nails) and decided they'll help me "promote myself" by getting me Business Cards.

I didn't see the point; I haven't finished school and change my "plans" as often as  Berlusconi does STDS.

But one night as I was drunkenly scribbling [what I thought was] my phone number in lipstick for a bartender (who ended up calling my landlord) I realized my girls might be onto something.

What's chicer than slipping "your card" into a guy's pocket?

It contains all your information typed in actual ink and may or may not be thrown away, depending on how much perfume you sprayed on it beforehand.

I told Mom to go ahead with the cards. Because I don't actually do anything I figured my name and number are enough, as long as they're written in Pink.


Minimal cards are the "fashionable" way to show people you are boring.

You don't realize how many people find you completely insufferable.

You thought "The Hangover" was a good movie.

You steal your daughter's glitter and only orgasm while riding a horse.

4) "COOL"
You are a middle-aged Dad who is trying to relive highschool via forcing your son to hang out with you in exchange for giving him rides to "punk shows."

You are a Jackass.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

The RAApture

The Rapture is a week away and Jesus is coming to judge us.

Will he be mad about my grades?

Upset I dabbled in Scientology?

Will he know I cheated on my boyfriends?

Jealous that Gaga's Jesus is hotter?

I've learned in this life you can't erase your Sins.

But I've also learned that if you look cute, you can get away with murder.

Here's what to wear for Jesus:


1) Sandals
Sandals are disgusting but Jesus loves them. Buy a cheap pair and throw them out when he leaves.

2) Cotton
Jesus doesn't know about poly/nylon blends or American Apparel. Wear some simple natural fabrics to make him feel at home.

3) Diamonds
Wear expensive jewelry. This way Jay Bro will think yall are rich/important and will be less likely to Punish You.


How would you feel if people wore symbols of the Worst Day Of Your Life?

4) Black
You'll be mourning the death of your friends.


Since I'm not spending money on Boys or Drugs I figured I should put it towards my appearance.

So I enrolled in a Gym.

Exercise, Sweating and General Health go against everything I believe in, but let's face it; I don't have enough sex to work off my alcohol. I'm afraid of swiming via water, running in public is humiliating and I'll never learn to ride a bike. It's either this or bulimia.

I walk into the "Milan Sportsman Club" wearing hot pink Nike with matching makeup and nails. I look  #appropriate.

"Hey Yall! Can I have like a membership or something?"

"What kind?"

"The kind thats for the Gym?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to be skinny."

I pay and enter the "weight room."

I look for hot guys.

"Is this it?"

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah like, where are those things you can walk on?"

"In the other room."

"Do yall have any magazines?"


"Do yall have MTV?"


"What about vending machines with chocolate power bars?"

"You're hungry?"

"Tell me about the Sauna; can I be naked?"

"If you want."

"Is it Co-Ed?"

Two weeks later the staff already love me, and by "love" I mean "laugh at."