just so you all know:

i made white fake fur leg warmers with tassels. that's right bitches. TASSELS. you all know my obsession with tassels and seriously there is nothing that is not made better by them, including these fake fur legwarmers.

i moved into my new place the other day, the crazy bitch moved out and took all her super mario brothers ish with her. i am in 100% love with my new place. my roommates are the nicest people on the planet and drove my crazy ass all over the bay area looking for last minute burning man stuff. i know! right? they don't even know me or know what burning man is, yet there we were at sports authority in daly city discussing the pros and cons of different tent stakes. yay for nice people and company cars.
like i said, i had to hook up the pink. and if one is going to hook up pink, it might as well be ruffly booty shorts. right?

last night i had a dream that i was part of a freestyle cypher backstage at that show that ?uestlove (does he still spell it like that?) is the drummer for...what is that fucking show called i can't remember. not jimmy kimmel. jimmy falon? i'm googling hold on. YES, late night with jimmy fallon. anyway it was awesome. yes, that is the entire story. were you hoping for more? there's no more. if you are feeling unsatisfied just scroll up and check out my tits again, they usually make me feel pretty good.

xoxo everyone, see you after the burn.

i am going to burning man and not a damn thang can stop me.

i had the most fucked up job interview of all time today. i won't say any names, but the company is one of Macy's best sellers. this was my third interview and it was basically yet another hour of being talked AT by corporate officers. there were no questions asked. okay, that's not true, there were rhetorical questions asked and then immediately answered by the asker (as is the nature of rhetorical questions.) At the end of my third interview they were totally verbally abusive, on some "i don't know why you think you could work here but we'll think about it and get back to you" shit, i'm not kidding, and there was one part where either sales manager or the CEO straight up lied to my face. they couldn't both be telling the truth. wtf. i don't have the energy to go into the details, but i don't think i'll be working there. thanks for the offer assholes, and thanks for wasting my time.

in other news, i'm going to fucking burning man next week fuuuckkkk yeahhhhh!!!!! i'm camping with PM and have to hook up a ton of pink shit to get ready. your girl does not wear pink.

one of the days all the girls are wearing ties and sunglasses and nothing else (see above.) i bought these ridiculous platform boots to wear as well.

keeps the alkaline playa dust off your feet so you don't get playa foot which is basically an alkaline burn. fight club style. i basically had to sell my soul to find these bitches. one would think that san francisco would be a mecca of platform boots if anywhere was. one would be wrong.

this is the closest thing to a shirt i plan on wearing for seven straight days. cool? good.

also i grew this booty for you guys. do you like it? i think i'll keep it around. i don't know where it came from buy it's welcome to stay. and grow. and thrive and be prolific.



gravity is my homie. (dj above) love him. sexiest pink wearing straight man of all time. i can't even watch these videos because i get too fucking excited to sit still and my entire day is shot because i can't focus dreaming of dancing my ass off with amazing people and wearing no shirt and having brown tits and no tanlines and wearing giant platform boots and seeing amazing art and probably yes okay eating drugs and riding my bike around and getting fucking playa dust everywhere except hopefully in my contact lens case and i could go on and on. i am seriously beside my self with excitement. this fucking job interview can kiss my soon to be dusty and tan ass. so can my apartment situation. i found a room in a three story loft, with my own patio and bathroom (I KNOW) in the Dog Patch district which is super close to a guy i may or may not be dating...he may or may not be featured somewhere in this post...it may or may not be in the beginning of this paragraph...and the people that already live there are cool and their dog gets along with biggie. the only problem is that the crazy bitch that lives in the room refuses to leave so they may have to forcibly evict her. she is a 27 year old woman and the room looks like an 8 year old boy lives there. she has a super mario brothers comforter and sheet set, a DOOM poster on the wall, a batman figurine in the bathroom (that's a fucking slap in the face to this loft. batman figurines do not belong on heated slate floors, bitch. thank you and goodnight.) and a fucking closet full of comic books. fucking weirdo. and before you emo indie comic book nerds start getting hard, she's moving out because she just found out she's pregnant and she's going to move in with her man so they can play xbox together while she gestates. gestates? gross. anyway, if her bitch ass would get out i would be all good in the hood, but such is the nature of my life. nothing is easy. it's all coming together though, and i'm keeping my chin up. (we'll see if i say that on thursday when i officially have to be out of this place and have no where to go...bitch better get to packing up her stan smith shit because biggie and i are moving in whether she likes it or not.)



check the ass and hips on that girl in the pink shorts. yes please.

LIZ COME TO THE BURN DO NOT ARGUE. oh and by the way i went to piedmont on haight the other day and thought of you - have you been? i'm guessing no, because if you had you'd still be there kind of like how this bitch won't move out of my room.

that is all.

do solitary souls have soulmates?

you know how when people say "it's just god's plan"? it's super annoying. it doesn't explain anything, it's just a way to feel better about the absolute shit you've been dealt. oh, it's for a reason. it's the universe just giving me what i need. whatever. i'm fucking sick of it.

i have lived such a solitary life. a life of solitude surrounded by friends and family and men. alone in the crowd is the story of my life. up all night as a child, alone in the woods, waiting for the sun to come up.

i have never had a partner in crime. never had parents to show me the world, saw it all on my own. "She'll be okay, she's a strong one." that's me. the strong one that can handle myself in any situation, in any place, all alone.

i've never had a man i connected with on a serious level. they are always situational. this one is good for bringing home to meet my dad, but i wouldn't want my friends to meet him. this one is good with my friends in san francisco, but only some of them, because the other ones would say he wasn't good enough. this one is fucking perfect, amazing, would take him anywhere...but oh, right, he's taken. this one is perfect in montana, to go snowboarding with and surfing with...but he'd get eaten alive in nyc. this one is perfect in the grimy hip hop club in DC, take his ghetto ass to soul camp everyweekend, but don't expect him to make sense at dinner with your canadian family eating with a knife his right hand and an upside down fork. and finally, in my happy place, buzz dc at 4 am rolling face in a club full of 4000 family members, i am alone alone alone, a third wheel and a 4001st wheel.

here i am again, outside looking in.