Lock Jaw, Shit Happens, Monday Mail, Fall-Winter Bags
Like the good ol' saying goes, SHIT HAPPENS.
FedEx tried to deliver my little parcel of love but was unable to do so on Monday. Looks like I missed the deadline then. It's sad. I think it would be really cool if it made it there in time. I shouldn't have sent it on Thursday. I shouldn't have procrastinated and just sent it earlier last week. I shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have done that, but whatever.
I'm quite disappointed, actually.
But yeah, screw it. Maybe some other time, ya know?
Healthwise, I think I might have this "lock jaw" problem. It really hurts at edge of my cheek/jaw whenever I chew, etc. I think I got it from gnawing/chewing on my teeth too much during my little weekend bender.
Ugh.
SHIT HAPPENS.
On the contrary, I'll just try to make myself happy. You know -- breathe some nicotine (I only have 5 Marlboro Reds left), check my emails, suck a thick, throbbing, pre-cum spitting cock (like that's even possible) despite my little lock-jaw probem, call around various Hermes boutiques in the US & Canada to try my luck for a Birkin cancellation and then there's good ol' entertainment.
In the process, I found a little photoshop gift sent by adorable and titillating Tiffany. Thanks, Tiffany, I wish you and your company some love, beauty and prosperity!
Who knows, maybe Colin might find his way to my blog and tell me he loves me and force-feeds his cock to my gaping asshole, failing that, any well-hung Irishman with dark hair and can pull off an American accent will also be just as fine. Is that you, Rob?
A breeding and brooding heterosexual couple named John and Jessica (aren't their names sooo sweet, sultry, suburban, in other words, American Pie) emailed me to express their love and invited me to join their trashy book club. The first selection is Confessions of a Video Vixen , by Karrine Stefans.I've ordered the book just a few minutes ago from Amazon.com and hopefully I'll get it soon.
Don't you dare laugh. Don't you even dare. By now you should know that I only "read" anything that has pictures in it. I don't even read. I'm read to. Actually, that's the only thing I'll read -- pictures. But this heterosexual couple are special so I'l make an exception and read for them. If you're up for it, just click the link above and buy the book.
On a completely material and superficial note, I've been looking around for my fall-winter '05/0'6 handbag collection. Hence I've preordered a bag from Vuitton a couple of weeks ago. According to Rhea, LV General Manager in the Philippines, the Monogram Waltz "Dora" bag is made out of "supple monogram canvas, highlighted by tiger's eye stones. It is also wrapped in ostrich, python and lizard" trimmings. I shoud probably get it around September.
I emailed her earier today to check whether or not the strap is removable. I think it's too feminine. I was thinking of using it viva la clutch bag. For clubbing. If the strap is not removable, then I'm cancelling my order and then switching it to the bag on the right. It looks quite big though, especially on the runway. The Vuitton Men's Carpet bags on the other hand are ultra expensivo. We're talking about the same price as the Birkins, around US$15-18K apiece. I'd rather do the waitlist and get a new Birkin in lilac togo or chevre leather, which is much cheaper than that.
Anyhoo, can't wait for The Simple Life 3: The Interns to go on sale on DVD. Look at Paris and Nicole toying around with fauxtits. Oh. My. Gawd. Can you imagine a pair of those water balloons being shoved under your chest? Reminds me of that Nip/Tuck episode where those viva la latina cabanas smuggled heroin. Awful.
As I've said before, had I been a female, I'd want my chest flat. 30 inch chest, cup -A (that's minus A) for those of you who are not good in mathematics. Big Tits are for mothers and porn stars!
So you, big watermelon-chested ones, I recommend that you book an appointment at your nearest pastic surgeon and get a breast reduction. You certainly won't find anyone at IMG, Select, Women, Viva, DNA and Storm having a pair of those. Hahahahahahaha!
In any case, I think those two probably had a lot of fun being an intern.
I'd be an intern.
For a day.
Provided they give free booze, free drugs, free clothes, etc.
Otherwise, internships are a no-go for me.
Experience?
Pfft.
They'd just drain your system with each and every brain cell, oxygen, and whatever bodily fluid you can think of.
Yes, even semen.
And vaginal fluid if you're female.
Screw India and the third world. Cheap labour? Hah bloody hah. Free labour is cheap labour and there's no other way to get it free labour other than hiring an Intern.
I recommend that you read The The Devil Wears Prada
I'm the Devil Paris and You're the Prada. Gucci. Uncle Karl.
Christian Dior. Valentino. Cavalli.
(Image and "Uncle Karl" courtesy of PerezHilton)
I love you Uncle Karl! You're the best!
Baboosh.
