14 posts tagged “drugs”
I accidentally just came on to Nick Douglas because I’ve been doing the pot all weekend, not to mention I’m probs getting my period next week and I’m super vulnerable.
Anyway, glad to give Nick some play in the process of getting out
some feelings I’ve needed to express re: nude photos with Alex Goldberg.
1) Alexis and I went to Target and Trader Joe's because those are the kinds of places we go on lady dates. In high school we (me and lady friends) always went to Chilis or the Burlington Mall. Why would we sit around an Awesome Blossom in a suburb when we can stare at middle-class Americans strolling around a chain discount store in their best post-work casual buying shit that they don't need? (I bought buffalo wing flavored mac and cheese tonight. I'm not fucking innocent. I'm just saying that's what goes on there. Have you ever seen the dollar section at Target? It's a place like that where you realize exactly how someone like George W. Bush gets voted in to office not once, but twice. Humanity is a fucking shithole these days, you guys. Vote Obama, for serious...)
2) We came back to my place and I was all, "Dude! Girl Talk tomorrow! I'm going to make pot brownies!" My mother reads this blog and I'm not proud to announce that, but this is a special weekend and I'm doing good things with my life, so Mom and anyone else who may be appalled by my behavior: I love you. I'm sorry I'm an asshole. Now let's party big in '08, right? Year's almost out and it's the freakin' weekend. You know, like in that Ignition Remix by R. Kelly.
3) Halfway through boiling a bunch of stuff in a pot, I realize that I don't have any good cookie mix. It's sad to think that I could start this process, assuring myself that I simply MUST have cookie or brownie mix somewhere. This is an example of my unhealthy lifestyle, you guys. I just assume that if it's disgusting and delicious at the same time that it's probably in my possession somewhere. But it expired in 2007. I feel like I can't even remember 2007. I feel like that was before I was born it was so long ago. So yeah, kinda drunk and full on the green beans and pizza we ate, we walked to the store, bought oatmeal cookie mix and shoplifted an egg. Just keep reading.
4) Then we came back to my house and played with my dog. In existence there is a five minute video of Alexis dancing with my dog but I can't put it up because it's technically just a shot of Wagandstuff's asshole framed by Alexis' ample cleavage. The cleavage shot was an accident. Point is: It's too sexy/degrading for Molls...She Wrote, and that's really saying something. Have you guys seen how I degrade myself? Don't worry, I'm in on the bit. It's controlled degrading, which isn't even really degrading at all. Yay! We all win!
5) After the pot cookies were in the oven, Alexis and I went on Facebook and laughed about people we don't know that well. Don't worry, no you. I can pretty much promise we weren't laughing about you. Anyone we were laughing at would have quit reading this about one thousand words ago due to exhaustion and then they'd go treat themselves to something really, REALLY bad, like a pint of frogert and a Sex in the City marathon (quoting all of Samantha's lines and like, completely relating even though they are totally still a Carrie!)
6) Then Alexis passed out on my bed and I went in to the kitchen and decided to test one of the cookies and have been fighting off Wags (who's begging for a bite) the entire time I've been writing this.
Let's say you took half a Xanax around 5 yesterday and then forgot about it because you were working and you're generally forgetful about such things.
Then let's say you didn't really eat all day because you were at the beach and working and it didn't particularly come to mind until late night that you were kind of starving.
Then like, perhaps you went to go hang out with this dude you used to date who you still hang out with sometimes and to whom you feel this weird attachment because you make each other LOL a shitload and he occasionally ignores you, which is your weakspot in this hypothetical situation.
Then pretend that you sat around for a couple hours watching The Best of Will Farrell SNL DVD and drinking beers and it was going pretty fucking well.
So then maybe his roommate comes home and he's eating a hamburger at the dinner table and it's around that time you realize that you're not buzzed, you're not tipsy, you're practically Puketown wasted.
Then you smoke a bunch of cigarettes and pound another beer, 'cause when you're too drunk the only solution seems to be to just keep drinking.
Then for some reason, you start mouthing off a whole bunch. Not that you aren't usually a back-talking, smartass, know-it-all (and you are!), but like, just basically being particularly venomous for no reason other than you're blackout drunk and kind of in a weird place in your life.
Then the blackout that you kind of knew was coming sets in and you don't really remember anything happening for the rest of the night other than the roommate with the hamburger telling you to be quiet when he was watching Cloverfield. Using logic you are able to piece together that whatever was happening up until that point involves you talking. Probably very loudly. About God know what. You kind of remember saying something along the lines of "Fuck Michael Phelps" at one point, but that might be just because you've been saying that a lot lately. Saying "Fuck Michael Phelps" is kind of your new bit. Because he's an American Hero or whatever. Anyway, this is hilarious to you but no one else almost all of the time, so it probably didn't go over too huge when you were blasted on a Sunday night with an old flame and his roommate who just wants to watch an impossible J.J. Abrams movie.
Sooooo. If all of that happened, what do you think the odds are that you're a good person without any sort of substance abuse problem?
Strictly a hypothetical.
Ed and I have a running joke about taking poppers and I have to ask-- has anyone who reads this blog done them? Does it basically turn you in to a loose-assed horndog or are there positive side-effects if you aren't looking to get anally rammed by a woman named Gary?
Any comments left or emails sent on this matter would be greatly appreciated.
That photo was taken at the Edison last night. Here are some videos from night/this morning:
Overall: Fun 14 hours with these two. I wouldn't blame you if you were jealous.
I'm watching a little 90210 right now and the episode where Emily Valentine sneaks extacy into Brandon's drink at the club is on. Bomb episode. Also known as the "I'd like to exchange an egg" episode. You with me?
OK, so there's a scene the day after Brando inadvertently dropped an e-bomb where he wakes up and has a heart to heart with Brenda, who is very concerned that her brother has done drugs. Brandon goes into this whole schpeel about how drugs are for people who need to forget about their real problems, but drugs just create more real problems and the only way to chase them away is with more drugs unless you're a strong person, blah blah suckadick. First of all, this scene kind of makes me hate Brandon because like, of course he's such a know-it-all. Of course, one night of taking a party drug makes you an expert on narcotics and why people use them. It's ridiculous that this is how they chose to have his character respond to the issue. Dude got drugged by his girlfriend at the club. A moment of being completely humbled is due-- that's all I'm saying.
Oh, no, I'm saying one more thing, too: Brenda, that selfish bitch, has the uhhh---gayest reaction ever. This is what goes down after Brandon does his whole thing about drugs being for the weak and stupid:
Brenda: You know what I was really afraid of?
Brandon: What?
Brenda: That you'd changed.
Seriously. I'm heated about this. Not because I think that the message they are trying to give is wrong but that it's because it's so poorly written. Brandon's character can totally have that moment of shame. Remember when he bought that bad Mustang?
Anyway. I'm done here and now I need to be done watching this show or I will pop a blood vessel in my face. For those of you who are still reading, here's a fun fact: I'm being interviewed by Al Jazeera at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon. Yup. Really. They are coming to my house to interview me about the Oscars. Unless they cancel. I kind of can't believe it.
Do you ever have moments when you're walking around in the clothes you fell asleep in the night before and you trip over a suitcase and nail your face on the side of a dresser, knocking over a bottle of Diet Coke and an ashtray that you think you yourself, "I am a heroin addict, minus the doing heroin part"?
Sweet. Me too.
Tonight I went out with Ed and some other people. Jordan, Ben, et c. My friend Eric joined up and allowed me to be mean to him like I almost always am. I'm senselessly mean...but like, in a fun way. He keeps coming back, I guess it can't be that bad. I guess it's whatevs.
The bouncer was a total babe in the conventional way that I never really go for but it was all "whatevs" tonight. He had long hair like a poet and a face like a modern day Shakespearian actor. He was from Gloucester, MA. That reminds me of a Beatrice Potter book, anyone else? Anyway, he looked like he had been off doing theater in some Edinburgh hole in the wall for the past six months, so I gave him my number. This is very not me, and a move that I was referring to as "boldacious" all night. Like bold and bodacious in one word. You get this bit. I was doing a bit. It's whatever. I don't have to explain myself to you people. You get it or you don't. But here's the thing: Wouldn't you eat nearly anything that was described as "boldacious"? Especially if whatever was being described was manufactured by the Frito Lay people? Snacks? Whatever. It's a whole bit. It's my "boldacious" bit. Fuck you guys. It's just whatever.
I only have two cigarettes left and very very thin pants on that aren't pants as much as they are leggings. This means I gotta stop smoking or go out and buy more cigs with the thin pants, as changing isn't an option. I've made a commitment to pass out in what I'm wearing, and if I were to go back on that commitment, i would know that I'm not good for my word. I knew when I put on clothes tonight that I was going to fall asleep in this outfit, thus its comfiness. It totally satisfies my urge to be comfy, but completely fails in the warmth department. Also, your mother is a whore.
I keep rubbing my eyes. There was gross drugs in the bathroom tonight at the bar. Totally gross. People gross me out. Oh, I have a lot of thoughts that I've been meaning to share re: men and dating. Like, when you realize that the dude you're dating is a racist or signs you may be dating a coke addict. I don't usually write about boys on this blog anymore or anywhere really because who actually needs to know about any of that stuff? Honestly, I would prefer to not know about it, so I certainly wouldn't subject anyone who reads this to it, ya know? It's really all just a bunch of LA bullshit... but seriously, there's some real noteworthy stuff I've been learning recently and I feel like I should be sharing it with the masses because i don't know if everyone's noticed yet or not, but I'm pretty awesome and usually always right. If not right, then I'm awesome anyway. You can't say that about most people.
OK, I'm going to go find cigarettes in my hallway and smoke some and hang out in my bathroom. Oh, that's another thing I never talk about on this blog., I spend a lot of time in my bathroom hanging out and making faces in the mirror. I play with my face all day. I also talk to myself and sing to my dog and do weird voices. It's actually really normal. Most people do it and they don't realize it or they do realize it and they can't admit it.
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Friday 11:58 AM: I just read this and I'm posting it even though it makes very little sense and I sound... insane?
