If you don't hear from me for awhile it will be because of my new digs in Guantanamo Bay.
I made the mistake of trolling for some freelance work when I stumbled upon a 'European' fashion designer about to launch a new collection in Houston and Dallas.
So I send her my pics and stats and I get an email back:
I am also a political activist. I need to know you don't have a problem with me being anti-Bush!
Umm...OK..designers are weird, so whatever.
I am not a fan of the past administration either.
Excellent. Let me tell you...
She sends me an email with her site's link which happens to be anti-Bush, war criminal hate monger web spewed stuff. There is no fashion I can find on her site and I am thinking to myself:
Where are the clothes?
Uh Oh!!
Great!!
Just great!!
I am now on a VIP list with backstage passes through Homeland Security because of this lying wench.
Politics and religion are not my bag, baby. Prada, Gucci, Chanel...they are the bags I carry!!
I am traveling this summer. I don't need the headache of being flagged for special searches. I can't get my conditioner in 3.5 oz bottles.
Ughhh!!!
Blondes hate having their luggage swiped by security!!
7.16.2008
7.15.2008
Kiss and Tell
I tried to fit back to back dates last night but I should have known it wasn’t going to end well. Karma is always around the corner lurking behind my Blonde shadow, waiting to jump out and break a key in my ignition to teach me a lesson in looking for love.
The problem is having too much fun on the first date that you lose track of time and can’t make the second date. Then justifying the cancellation of the ladder date because he was logistically wrong. I could never commit to anyone in South Austin no matter how fine he was.
And as much as I loved hanging with the first guy, I don’t see him quite right either because of his nightly lifestyle. I just can’t fall for sofa time with someone that is into the club scene and has no desire to settle down anytime soon.
I find downtown clubs a bit incestuous and I am convinced if you slept with one you slept with them all and how safe can that be knowing there is a 1-5 chance you might catch something.
Ick!
I am more along the lines of dinner parties and small gatherings in my home with my boyfriend instead of going to some chaotic nightclub where the sole purpose of those flashing lights and extra liquor a bartender pours into a girls drink lends hand to confusion on a tipsy mind and eventually lands some of those girls into a strangers bed in the wee hours of the morning.
Not my style!!
Plus my downtown guy,while logistically alright, and great fun didn’t kiss the way I like.
It was like trying to land a hummingbird on my lip
All this fluttering.
His head did fancier moves than Mohamed Ali's foot work.
You can’t kiss right!
Let me try again?
No!
Please?
No. When did I become the Dali Lama of kissing?
Why do I have to enlighten you on the ways of tongue and lip mojo if I am not going to be with you?
I am not a kissing guru. How do I know there aren’t tons of women who love to be kissed with the motions of a flapping bat?
Who am I to judge?
Blondes just know what they like!!
The problem is having too much fun on the first date that you lose track of time and can’t make the second date. Then justifying the cancellation of the ladder date because he was logistically wrong. I could never commit to anyone in South Austin no matter how fine he was.
And as much as I loved hanging with the first guy, I don’t see him quite right either because of his nightly lifestyle. I just can’t fall for sofa time with someone that is into the club scene and has no desire to settle down anytime soon.
I find downtown clubs a bit incestuous and I am convinced if you slept with one you slept with them all and how safe can that be knowing there is a 1-5 chance you might catch something.
Ick!
I am more along the lines of dinner parties and small gatherings in my home with my boyfriend instead of going to some chaotic nightclub where the sole purpose of those flashing lights and extra liquor a bartender pours into a girls drink lends hand to confusion on a tipsy mind and eventually lands some of those girls into a strangers bed in the wee hours of the morning.
Not my style!!
Plus my downtown guy,while logistically alright, and great fun didn’t kiss the way I like.
It was like trying to land a hummingbird on my lip
All this fluttering.
His head did fancier moves than Mohamed Ali's foot work.
You can’t kiss right!
Let me try again?
No!
Please?
No. When did I become the Dali Lama of kissing?
Why do I have to enlighten you on the ways of tongue and lip mojo if I am not going to be with you?
I am not a kissing guru. How do I know there aren’t tons of women who love to be kissed with the motions of a flapping bat?
Who am I to judge?
Blondes just know what they like!!
7.14.2008
Not Another Blonde Moment!!!
Miss USA 2008
Miss USA 2007
Brunettie Betties sat on a wall
Brunettie Betties had a great fall...
and the Blonde had fun chuckling at it all.
Importance of Being Earnest...
or at least the importance of using proper table manners as a way to get the date off to a good solid start.
I happened to be in Chicago this weekend for a writers workshop at Second City. While I was there I wanted to play around downtown. Shopping and running around the beach are not occasions where a play date is absolutely necessary but for dinner, I require company.
Its far too depressing to think I would have to eat alone, ordering room service while I am trying to enjoy a new city.
Alas, I chose poorly and was stuck with a bafoon. I was sitting literally across from a neo-paleontological humanoid who wouldn't use manners even if I cracked his cromagnum sized brain with a cave stick.
Apparently, driving a Maserati gives this phleeb a license to put his foot on the bench of the booth, be a bit arrogant to others, and talk about double D's being his preferred size but that I would do.
DO?!
DO, what you freak?!!
Check pleez!!!
He was insulted that I couldn't understand his words through the half chomped bites of steak in his mouth.
Huh?!
Huh?!
Aren't you listening to me?!
No, I actually tuned you out after the part about Barbie dolls and the fact that I am now mesmerized by the part of potato that left your mouth at warp speed and lodged itself in between the crevices on the stem of your water goblet.
I am sorry but if you have failed to master the simple task of proper eating habits. I can just assume, if we found ourselves in some sort of shared living arrangement, you would find it with in your comfort zone to speak to me whilst on the lu or try to grab my arse in public.
We don't do that!!
Nope!!
Nor do we talk with our mouths full!!
..and if you thought I was finished...
OH NO!!!
You would think that it wasn't necessary to specify in your conversation that smoking Mary Jane while driving me back to the Westin would be another no-no!!
But apparently, again, quite in the comfort zone of this guy!!
In a moment of this type of desperation, a stinky mini-van taxi would have felt like a Bentley.
Disgusted and maybe somewhat stoned, I found a new fondness for room-service. Run a hot tub, order a bottle of wine, put on the stereo, listen to Billy Holiday sing you the blues all the while smiling because you just made it to he-- and back without a scratch.
Thank Gah!!
Blondes don't befriend beasts of burdens!!
I happened to be in Chicago this weekend for a writers workshop at Second City. While I was there I wanted to play around downtown. Shopping and running around the beach are not occasions where a play date is absolutely necessary but for dinner, I require company.
Its far too depressing to think I would have to eat alone, ordering room service while I am trying to enjoy a new city.
Alas, I chose poorly and was stuck with a bafoon. I was sitting literally across from a neo-paleontological humanoid who wouldn't use manners even if I cracked his cromagnum sized brain with a cave stick.
Apparently, driving a Maserati gives this phleeb a license to put his foot on the bench of the booth, be a bit arrogant to others, and talk about double D's being his preferred size but that I would do.
DO?!
DO, what you freak?!!
Check pleez!!!
He was insulted that I couldn't understand his words through the half chomped bites of steak in his mouth.
Huh?!
Huh?!
Aren't you listening to me?!
No, I actually tuned you out after the part about Barbie dolls and the fact that I am now mesmerized by the part of potato that left your mouth at warp speed and lodged itself in between the crevices on the stem of your water goblet.
I am sorry but if you have failed to master the simple task of proper eating habits. I can just assume, if we found ourselves in some sort of shared living arrangement, you would find it with in your comfort zone to speak to me whilst on the lu or try to grab my arse in public.
We don't do that!!
Nope!!
Nor do we talk with our mouths full!!
..and if you thought I was finished...
OH NO!!!
You would think that it wasn't necessary to specify in your conversation that smoking Mary Jane while driving me back to the Westin would be another no-no!!
But apparently, again, quite in the comfort zone of this guy!!
In a moment of this type of desperation, a stinky mini-van taxi would have felt like a Bentley.
Disgusted and maybe somewhat stoned, I found a new fondness for room-service. Run a hot tub, order a bottle of wine, put on the stereo, listen to Billy Holiday sing you the blues all the while smiling because you just made it to he-- and back without a scratch.
Thank Gah!!
Blondes don't befriend beasts of burdens!!
7.10.2008
Politics and Port-a-Potties
both stink.....
I slept with all the candidates after each one promised to be the best lay I ever had.
Promises
Promises
Promises
Hillary sucked at oral
John had no rhythm
and
Barack didn't know what to do with his hands
No way I am getting an orgasm out of any of these guys. The only way for this Blonde to achieve a political climax is to put fresh batteries in a vibrator and call it a day!!
So why on earth would I want to end my evening talking about a bunch of bad lays.
I have more important issues to deal with in this country, such as getting a bill passed that port-a-potties at live music venues should be required to have hand sanitizer!!
Blondes wash their hands of the whole affair!!!
I slept with all the candidates after each one promised to be the best lay I ever had.
Promises
Promises
Promises
Hillary sucked at oral
John had no rhythm
and
Barack didn't know what to do with his hands
No way I am getting an orgasm out of any of these guys. The only way for this Blonde to achieve a political climax is to put fresh batteries in a vibrator and call it a day!!
So why on earth would I want to end my evening talking about a bunch of bad lays.
I have more important issues to deal with in this country, such as getting a bill passed that port-a-potties at live music venues should be required to have hand sanitizer!!
Blondes wash their hands of the whole affair!!!
7.08.2008
Impossibly Possum
My pets have a pet.
Those freak felines brought a possum home and have been hiding it in the garage.
They have been feeding it leftovers.
On one hand I applaud their humanity, on the other hand, it is not at all pleasant a notion to find a rabid beast lurking near the food bowl.
I don't care how cute it is!!
Looking at me with those beady eyes!
Cats are not supposed to have pets!
I don't care what you do with him but he cannot stay here.
You can't have a pet!
Tell it to stop looking at me like that!
Stop it!!
Blondes are not animal control!!!
Lactose Intolerant Darling...
I don't do 'cheesy hotels'!!
May I ask what would compel an older, not so fabulous looking to ask me to pay half my way?
Are you kidding?
I am an old fashion kinda girl and I believe the man should pay, especially when they are almost twice my age!!
I don't mind paying half my way to neutral ground. You bring your surf board and I will bring mine. But do not expect me to pay to come to your suburbia in the middle of nowhere and put me up in a Holiday Inn. Just because you present yourself as a sugar daddy and find women that try to take advantage of you doesn't mean you can take it out on me. I am not interested in your kind of distorted values.
A HOJOS's in suburbia?!!!
and for me to pay half?!
You are seriously loco dude.
But when you brag about spoiling a girl but rather take her shopping than pay for a plane ticket, and all you can talk about is how hot she must be and that double D's would be terrific and how good the sexual connection should be...
Pleeez!!
Oh, she should also be independent because you aren't looking to take care of the trophy.....
Blah, Blah, disgusting blah....
Go back to Sugardaddy.com and stay of my Match!!
Blondes hate cheap bologna!!!!
May I ask what would compel an older, not so fabulous looking to ask me to pay half my way?
Are you kidding?
I am an old fashion kinda girl and I believe the man should pay, especially when they are almost twice my age!!
I don't mind paying half my way to neutral ground. You bring your surf board and I will bring mine. But do not expect me to pay to come to your suburbia in the middle of nowhere and put me up in a Holiday Inn. Just because you present yourself as a sugar daddy and find women that try to take advantage of you doesn't mean you can take it out on me. I am not interested in your kind of distorted values.
A HOJOS's in suburbia?!!!
and for me to pay half?!
You are seriously loco dude.
But when you brag about spoiling a girl but rather take her shopping than pay for a plane ticket, and all you can talk about is how hot she must be and that double D's would be terrific and how good the sexual connection should be...
Pleeez!!
Oh, she should also be independent because you aren't looking to take care of the trophy.....
Blah, Blah, disgusting blah....
Go back to Sugardaddy.com and stay of my Match!!
Blondes hate cheap bologna!!!!
7.06.2008
7.04.2008
7.03.2008
Bra, braaa, braaahhh
You have no idea how cold it gets in the office until you forget to where a bra to work.
The Blonde is freezing and greeting clients in a whole new way!!!
The Blonde is freezing and greeting clients in a whole new way!!!
Carma, Carma, Carma
is a biatch!!!
I have no idea why I deserved to be punished yesterday. I don't believe I have blown off enough men to warrant the amount of karma that came after me in form of epic car problemos.
I went to the Mean-Eyed Cat for a little R&R and to meet up with a handsome new thing.
I parked the car, left the top down, rolled the windows up, and pulled the key out of the ignition.
UH!!
That looks like only half a key!!
Where is the rest of my key?!
Look in my ignition!!
Frack!!
Go back inside, call Boo and Jesus to extract my key and make the world better while I totally ignore the issue and continue with my thing.
Boo and Jesus failed to extract the key and they took off to have Pho on Guadalupe. Being the ever so responsible Blonde that I am, I decided to deal with the car after my date. Why ruin a perfectly good evening on car trouble? Plus my date had a 1969 SS Camaro.
And y'all know how I love machismo in my cars.
Big Engine!!
Roarrrr!!!
MMmmm!!!!
Oh Yea!!!
Uh, Uh...where was I ...OH yes, yes..my car!!
My rag-top now needed a flat bed tow of which had to wait until the AM. I show up in the morning to see construction boot soles all over the back seat of my car. I guess the day labors thought they would get lucky. After all, I did leave half the key in the ignition.
I had the car towed to the house because apparently SAAB is on a national backorder of parts for five weeks and nothing can be done until that time. I did try eight locksmiths who all refuse to work on SAABs because of the microchip key or something.
Anyhoo,
I wash and condition the seats to get the thieving little feet marks off my car seat and I go inside to shower not worrying that the 98 degree heat and sunny disposition of the day could possibly rain.
I take a little nap.
I wake up to rain.
RAIN!!
RAIN!!
RAIN!!
I run outside and I am completely soaked by the time I get to my baby that is completely soaked too.
Frack!!
Frack!!!
Frack!!
I hang a tarp over the car until Boo comes over to manually pull the top up.
Top is up.
Rain stops.
I go pout on the porch not sure whether I want to cry or laugh.
Zanax would be awesome about now.
Pity party over.
Fine, I will drive the jag
Get in the jag
The Jag is dead...need to pop the trunk to recharge!!
Can't pop the trunk.
Dead battery and the valet key wont open it from the outside. Original key is safe and sound in my storage unit. Somewhere in the storage unit.
Frack!!!
Frack!!
Frack!!
Being the responsible thing that I am and its July 4th weekend. I will be purchasing a motorcycle until car problems are mysteriously solved on their own.
Do I want a red or yellow crotch rocket?
Hhmmm?
Blondes aren't the only thing that are high maintenance!!
I have no idea why I deserved to be punished yesterday. I don't believe I have blown off enough men to warrant the amount of karma that came after me in form of epic car problemos.
I went to the Mean-Eyed Cat for a little R&R and to meet up with a handsome new thing.
I parked the car, left the top down, rolled the windows up, and pulled the key out of the ignition.
UH!!
That looks like only half a key!!
Where is the rest of my key?!
Look in my ignition!!
Frack!!
Go back inside, call Boo and Jesus to extract my key and make the world better while I totally ignore the issue and continue with my thing.
Boo and Jesus failed to extract the key and they took off to have Pho on Guadalupe. Being the ever so responsible Blonde that I am, I decided to deal with the car after my date. Why ruin a perfectly good evening on car trouble? Plus my date had a 1969 SS Camaro.
And y'all know how I love machismo in my cars.
Big Engine!!
Roarrrr!!!
MMmmm!!!!
Oh Yea!!!
Uh, Uh...where was I ...OH yes, yes..my car!!
My rag-top now needed a flat bed tow of which had to wait until the AM. I show up in the morning to see construction boot soles all over the back seat of my car. I guess the day labors thought they would get lucky. After all, I did leave half the key in the ignition.
I had the car towed to the house because apparently SAAB is on a national backorder of parts for five weeks and nothing can be done until that time. I did try eight locksmiths who all refuse to work on SAABs because of the microchip key or something.
Anyhoo,
I wash and condition the seats to get the thieving little feet marks off my car seat and I go inside to shower not worrying that the 98 degree heat and sunny disposition of the day could possibly rain.
I take a little nap.
I wake up to rain.
RAIN!!
RAIN!!
RAIN!!
I run outside and I am completely soaked by the time I get to my baby that is completely soaked too.
Frack!!
Frack!!!
Frack!!
I hang a tarp over the car until Boo comes over to manually pull the top up.
Top is up.
Rain stops.
I go pout on the porch not sure whether I want to cry or laugh.
Zanax would be awesome about now.
Pity party over.
Fine, I will drive the jag
Get in the jag
The Jag is dead...need to pop the trunk to recharge!!
Can't pop the trunk.
Dead battery and the valet key wont open it from the outside. Original key is safe and sound in my storage unit. Somewhere in the storage unit.
Frack!!!
Frack!!
Frack!!
Being the responsible thing that I am and its July 4th weekend. I will be purchasing a motorcycle until car problems are mysteriously solved on their own.
Do I want a red or yellow crotch rocket?
Hhmmm?
Blondes aren't the only thing that are high maintenance!!
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