Mission: Get Laid In Cabo

Plan of Attack:

- Wear my bright pink semi see-through shirt that says "SINGLE" possibly with out a bra.

- Wear my trucker hat (Note: I normally NEVER wear hats but drastic times call for drastic measures) that says "SWALLOW BITCH SWALLOW"

- Drink obscene amounts of Tequila.

- Giggle and Nod. ALOT.

- Purchase Costco sized box of condoms.

- GrAY water. Make it. Love it. But do NOT drink it.

- Do NOT get separated from The Ringleader* as this will obviously lead to DEATH and no one wants to die on vacation in foreign countries. See Spring break Nightmares on E! for further explanation.

I'm open to other reader suggestions, so please do share any tried and true methods you may have regarding this matter.

* This does not in anyway insinuate that we will be partaking in any group activities of a sexual nature.

How I Became The Alleged Ringleader, Part 3.

It's been a few months since I let you in on Part 1 and Part 2 of How I Became the Alleged Ringleader, but hopefully it was worth the wait! Truth is, the high school years were so full of drama and crazy antics that I couldn't wrap my brain around it and find ways to tell the stories. Since there is a lot of AH material, I'm going to have to narrow it down and break the high school years down into a few posts. Here you have my Freshman and Sophmore years.

Freshman year at my College Prep High School: I met an upperclassman in summer school and we began "dating" which consisted of holding hands in summer school and making out in movie theaters, it was pretty serious. We had been going out for about a month before school began and I was definitely excited to prance around high school with an older boy on my arm. Little did I know that my boyfrend had a psycho ex girlfriend on campus that I would be forced to deal with...

Cut to my 3rd day of high school, I'm in the gym at volleyball practice. Because I'm a freshman, once practice ended I had to go pick up all the scattered volleyballs and put them away. By the time I make it into the locker room almost everyone has left and my backpack is no where to be found. I'm freaking out and asking random people if they have seen it, one upperclass girl tells me that she saw this chick Leigh (psycho ex gf) take my bag and walk away with it.

At this point I should note that at the time I was 5"9 and maybe weighed 110 lbs. I walk outside and see Leigh and her friend standing in front of the gym, Leigh has a SOLID 20-25 pounds on me. But being the bad-ass motherfucker that I was, I walked right up to the upperclass Leigh and her friend and this is what transpired:

Me: What's your problem? Where is my backpack? Why did you steal it?

Leigh: Your BACKPACK? YOU STOLE MY BOYFRIEND!!! Seriously, she actually said that!

Next thing you know, she grabs me by my hair and pushes me to the ground. She falls on top of me and her knee goes right into my stomach knocking the wind out of me. Lucky for me, I grew up in the valley on a street with all boys as neighbors. This was not my first brawl and I had the wind knocked out of me plenty of times playing football and getting in fights with the boys.

So we're rolling on the floor, she is pulling my hair and trying to scratch my face and then the boys football team is let out on a water break, of course they see the two of us going at it and start cheering and forming a circle around us. Now that I have a crowd, I can't let there be any tie or question as to who wins this fight. I don't bother with hair pulling and instead find my way on top of her and use her hair to pick her head up and smack it into the ground repeatedly. At one point we rolled into this palm tree planter and I was literally rubbing her face in the dirt. Turns out my dad was sitting in the car in the parking lot smoking a joint and watched the whole thing. One of the coaches broke up the fight, our parents were called, and we were to report to the dean of students the next morning.

The next day, I'm in the middle of campus on my way up the stairs to the dean's office and people literally moved out of my way towards the railings as I walked up the stairs. Then this guy Guido (who is now a good friend of mine) started singing/humming the theme from Rocky and everyone started clapping. It was pretty glorious, even though I ended up getting suspended from school the 1st week. Needless to say, no one looked at me sideways again.

Sophmore Year: My parents didn't trust me, but there was ONE TIME that they went to Vegas overnight and left me to stay home alone. Of course I decided to have a party. Actually it was a kick back, you know just a few people coming over to drink, smoke pot, and possibly bone in my parents bed? Right so it was just me and my cousin that were allowed to be at the house. We each invited about 12 people over in total. She went to a public school and invited a few public school peeps over and I invited my good private catholic college prep school friends over. It started out with just a few people over and then everyone's pagers kept going off with questions from other friends wondering what was going on that night. Since everyone knew where I lived more and more people started showing up. Mostly, people from the public school my cousin attended in Porn Capital of the World, Chatsworth CA.

I had to kick everyone out of my house and made them stay in the backyard. Soon there were donations for the keg and it was a full blown keg party. I had people from every school in the valley showing up and the party was seriously out of control, eventually the police showed up and the party was over. I had no idea what was going on in each corner of my backyard, I thought people were just shooting craps, playing dominoes, freestyle rapping, passing blunts and pounding beers...until the next morning when I went outside to begin the cleanup aspect and realized what had happened to my backyard.

Some asshole tagger decided to tag a mural on my wall that separates my house from the neighbors house in my backyard. He tagged his tagger name REAL LARGE which was "Cummer."

Jesus H. Christ! Who in the fuck has such an idiotic tagger/gang name as Cummer? I mean as a guy, don't you all do that? Why the hell would you tag it on someone's backyard who is obviously NOT gang related and is living in an upper middle class neighborhood? And mostly, what the fuck was I going to do? Well, it turns out home depot doesn't sell paint that matches the pink cinder block color or my back wall and there was really nothing that could be done except sit back and expect to be grounded again...forever. God damn public school kids! Needless to say that was the last party I ever had and the last time I was ever left home alone.

The Taco Bell Incident: Over the summer between each grade I would train for the following basketball season with my teammates at school. We would do weight training and conditioning a few hours per day. At the time I was not old enough to drive so my older teammate would pick me up and drop me off from home. We used to go to Taco Bell after training for lunch and this one day we hit up Taco Bell in Canoga Park across from Canoga Park High School, basically it was in the barrio.

The drive-thru line was too long so we decided to walk in and eat there. As I am walking up to the door I see a few chola's standing around and notice that one of them is extremely fat and that she is wearing a drill team uniform from Canoga Park HS. The drill team uniform was green and looked exactly like an ice skating dress, she was even wearing nylons. I saw her enormous hair poof and makeup and immediately looked down to avoid laughing. When I looked down I saw nothing but cellulite. Right as I turn the corner to go into the T. Bell she grabs me by the neck and LIFTS ME OFF OF THE GROUND BY MY NECK!!!!!!!!!!

Chola: What the fuck are joo lookeen at eh? You think I'm fat? Joo think I'm ugly? What is it eh?

Me: Uhhhhh, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just trying to get my burrito on, I don't even know you.

Chola: Well, then eh why are joo loo-keen at me? **note she is still holding me up by my neck**

Me: Really? I was just trying to look and see where I was going and where the door is...

Chola: Joo think I'm ugly and fat? Well joo don't know me. Because I can dance.

Me (thinking): Is she fucking serious? What is this? Westside story? Are we going to square off in a swan dance?

And then BOOM! She fucking socked me in the face and broke my nose. I don't exactly know what happened but my friend who was hiding inside Taco Bell said from the back it looked like a cartoon and I even slid down the window and fell to the ground. The chola left and I just laid there with blood everywhere and a busted nose.

When I got home my dad said "Why did you go to that Taco Bell? You know that's where all the chola's hang out" Thanks asshole.

About 5 months later I went back to that Taco Bell afterschool. I had 2 1/2 hours to kill before basketball practice and we decided to hit the mall and Taco Bell. As I walk up to the door I see a bunch of cholo's/chola's and don't think anything of it. I go to walk in and what do I hear??

Chola: "I thought I told joo never to come back here, eh?"

Me: "What? I'm not even looking at you. I didn't know you said anything to me I was knocked out, remember?"

And then I ran and she chased me and socked me in the face...again. Because my nose had been broken before, it easily broke and bled everywhere and I went home and my dad said the same thing to me.

That was the end of anyone trying to pick on me, it sounds really violent and gnarly but it really wasn't that bad. I never got my ass kicked after that, ever again. Funny thing is that I STILL walk around with a chip on my shoulder and fear no one, even after all of that. If I see that broad again I'm going to fucking taze her with my taser.

To be continued with Junior and Senior year...

Things I <3 About My Fellow Contributors

CARA IS A TEASE AND I DON'T MEAN A DICKTEASE.

Stiletto did not like the fact that I decided to compose this blog in Outlook and then copy and paste it into blogger. She likes to peek at what I am writing, especially if it is about her. Hence the glorious remark above...

My friends and relationships mean the world to me. I’m friends with everyone for one reason or another and everyone serves a purpose, aside from being someone to get wasted with. I thought I’d clue you all in on a few facts about my fellow contributors and why I <3>

Stiletto: sweet, cute, can fit in your pocket, thoughtful, hilarious, forgiving, detective in a past life, likes to have sex near me.

Will call me while she is at Forever 21 to have me add up the total cost of all the items she is holding, followed by a request to login to her bank account to see if she has enough $$ to cover those charges. Sometimes I have to help her decide what she needs to put back on the racks…

She has dedicated her life to scamming each and every system. One time her and I were both hit with hundreds of dollars in overdraft charges around the holidays, I told her it was possible to get out of the charges if you have extenuating circumstances. She then called the bank and told them some story about her dead beat baby daddy and how she was going to have no presents to put under the tree. B of A reversed all of her OD charges.

Is the only person I have ever cleaned up someone else’s urine with…using a fucking blow dryer I might add. Really, don’t ask because it will not be happening again.

Ate my macho taco from Del Taco on my birthday and will never admit to it even after ordering the entire left side of the menu.

Manages to leave her hair extensions in hotel rooms around the country and demand that they Fedex her hair back to her because it was obviously their fault.

Does not take no for an answer. No matter what. If she does not have money or an outfit to wear and has just been invited to Jermaine Dupri’s Grammy Party, you can bet that she will sell anything and spend every last dollar to make sure she is looking fab and has spending money while she is there.

She can and will J-O-O any company down. Whether it’s a limo company that has overcharged her boss or a prepaid 2-for-1 pilates class she has decided not to take after they have charged her. She will get that money back.

Her and her mom celebrate holidays unconventionally like Thanksgiving at a Spa in Phoenix or having brunch in the OC for Christmas. They are always nice enough to invite me since I’m family-less in Cali.

Works the front office like I do, does PR at parties, makes sure everyone is having a good time and getting along. Makes friends quickly.

Is the one that I will get into trouble with and laugh the hardest with after we somehow get ourselves out of it by bribery or whatever it takes. She does not take NO for an answer.

Lilo: knows things, handles a clipboard well and is more than willing to set up an excel spreadsheet to hold people accountable for their charges., points and snaps when people need to do things, can’t resist gambling, means and does what she says she will, sets bars in the friendship department.

The only Mean Girl that carries an AMEX…and for good reason.

Will pick you up from the airport even if your flight is landing on Christmas night after 1am.

Should seriously consider investing in the adult industry, as she is a very valued customer.

Always wins. Whether it be with that perfect birthday or holiday gift you weren’t expecting or by managing your butt hurt and taking you to sushi to get real beat up.

Has a very specific palate, but sometimes surprises us with her willingness to try things that do not come in a box with a toy. Lately, she has even been trying vegetables like EGGPLANT from Ago!

Is the valedictorian of credit and the Swiss Army Knife of broads.

If I needed to bury/dispose of a body, I would call Lilo. She would probably know how to dismember the body and knows ways of properly concealing evidence though you would never guess it when you see her little 5”2 frame.

Works the back office crunching numbers, running spreadsheets, and managing loss prevention. Does not want to deal with the general public. That is what Stiletto and I are for.

Does things she doesn’t want to do all the time and doesn’t complain about it because she knows in the end those people will owe her a favor.

Won my friend lottery and found herself on board a first class flight to Jamaica and 5 star accommodations all because she could roll the best blunt out of all of my friends.

Is prepared for anything and everything. Whether it be a natural disaster, unexpected guests, a power outage, a picnic, surprise camping trip, or car trouble. She is the only one of my friends that owns a drill and a fully functional and operational tool box.

Will flash a boob when things get serious or people are getting into a fight in another room. Sometimes the boob gets placed against a sliding glass door and sometimes it’s a straight flash, but ONLY the person intended to see the boob will see it.

No one can compete with the plethora of snacks she has at her house.

Cutting People Out of Your Life

Cutting people out of your life is never easy. You can cut all ties with people and go your own way and be fine, but who has the time to crop people out of their pictures and good times? If you can't crop those that did you dirty out of your life, how do you really cut them out?

Do you sit back and appreciate the "good times" you had for what they were? How do you feel when you look back at pictures of good times, with everyone smiling, when you know that everything about that person was phony? There is a certain person that duped myself and my other friends and each time I see a picture with her in it, I cringe and shudder. It pisses me off because she was a part of so many famous times in my life and lets be honest, those were probably the years with the most photographic evidence!

I suppose I could just delete those pics from my MySpace and my photo library but it just sucks because no one else ruins the picture.

The thing that I find so funny is that this chick has a "new life" now, you know one of those made up lives that involve a white picket fence on FRONT STREET? She claims all these things and that she is a mighty woman of God and how wonderful her life is now with all of 1-2 phony friends she has, the friends that "make her whole". Meanwhile, these friends know nothing about her so she can be whomever she wants to be to them, hooray for fresh starts!

I just wonder why you never see any pictures of her new friends or this wonderful new life she is living. She is supposedly so happy, so where is the photographic evidence of this? She doesn't go one day without being on MySpace and changing her default photo or renovating her profile weekly. Do her and her new friends not own a camera? Is she ashamed of her new friends? Are they just not as pretty and skinny as her old friends that made her look so good? Or is it her? Is she just not looking that good these days? I mean, she was such hot shit before and was regularly having photo shoots and showcasing her fashion sense and outer beauty. Hmmm, maybe it's because what's inside is ugly and unhappy and that is all that shows these days. You know the type, people that are skinny outside yet fat on the inside? Her MySpace url even includes "famous" like mine and my group of friends have. There is NOTHING famous about her and I think she should delete it and change it.

Her MySpace profile is an ode to her self, which would be FINE except each and every picture is one taken on a vacation she took with me, a party with me and her old friends, or an old picture of a time in her life she is so ashamed of. It's pretty offensive. In the past 6 months her default pic has been one that was taken back when we were friends doing something famous. There are no pics of people she is actually good friends with. Instead she has pics of herself with random people (like ex co-workers of mine) and a million cropped pictures of herself or solo shots of herself. I think she should give up on fronting and delete those pics of herself during that time, according to her "That just wasn't her." Are pictures of her in Miami dressed like a whore and out at clubs drinking alcohol REALLY appropriate for a 30 year old who has given her life to Christ?

Maybe she ought to stage a photo shoot at her church or with her church friends at the roller skating rink "socializing". Add that to her MySpace and take down all the famous pictures from: the W San Diego (where her current default is from), the Victor in Miami, Tower 23 in PB, The Sofitel & Faena in Buenos Aires, Uruguay, Koi, Ago, Nobu, and all the glorious places that people like me frequent.

I don't have to lie to kick it, so I never do. I just can't understand how others can continue to act one way but publicly display another.

I guess I'm just wishing she would crop herself out of my life and that I wouldn't have to see her MySpace default pics be ones of her from times with me.

I want to forget that she was ever a part of those times, who wants to be reminded of people who lied and took advantage of them? Who wants to be reminded of lapses they had when judging someone's character?

Do you just write it off and say you have had friends for a reason, a season, or a lifetime?

An Open Letter To The Squirrels

Dear All of you furry lil Basties,

Who do you think you are? I mean seriously you have a way over inflated ego and it needs to stop. Today was the last straw for me. It's bad enough I have to wake up and commute to school but now I have to dodge rats with fluffy tails? Ya, sure you look innocent enough running around having no regard for customary walking rules as you run across my path obviously trying to trip me, but I know you and you are NOT innocent. I do not appreciate being followed around by rodents plotting to jack me for my lunch money. Don't act dumb!

I saw you today running a covert lunch theft, I'll refresh your memory - The guy just sitting on the bench reading his book between classes has his backpack laying next to him. You stealthily ran up behind him and started burrowing into his bag. Luckily I was watching and alerted the poor sap to your antics, oh wait but that worked out for you because he actually rewarded your delinquent behavior by giving you a chip!

I do not like to lose especially to Squirrels! I'm putting the word out on the street and we humans are not going to stand for this! Oh and what about your BFF? Yup I saw him too, pillaging someones left over lunch out of the trashcan and dragging it to the center of lawn just so everyone could see that he had scored a brown bag of glory. If I wasn't deathly afraid of catching rabies I would have snatched the lunch bag out of his little squirrel paws.

And another thing, you squirrels think you are sooo tough running across the top of my fence taunting Spidey? Why don't you come down from the fence and face Spidey one on one huh? Oh what's that you say? That you can't because you're just a lil wannabe Gangsta afraid Spidey would tear your fluffy lil tail from your body and make scarf out of it? Because she so totally would and Spidey doesn't even wear scarves!

Your NOT friend,

Lilo

Four Twenty

Yesterday was 4/20, a national smokers holiday and like all holidays it gave me reason to drink, smoke, eat, and get fucked up.

Obviously, I am only smoking and celebrating thanks to prop 215 and my medical condition. I spent the majority of yesterday inhaling all that Bill Clinton did not and THEN SOME! It was a perfect excuse to be worthless and let me tell you, if there was ever a prize for being worthless and/or useless I'd be willing to place bets on myself.

The fact that 4/20 fell on a Sunday (my fave day of the week) made the day extra special and made it possible for me to create a menu of munchies worthy of bringing any stoner like myself to their knees. Sundays are the days I just chill and create an amazing dinner for myself, my roomie and sometimes Lilo and her roomie. Yesterday wasn't all that different except for the fact that I didn't even try to eat healthy...

After a serious wake and bake session, I decided it's time to get started in the kitchen. I started off with a bacon, cheese, and onion omelette complete with crispy hashed browns on the side and smothered in Cholula hot sauce because everything is better with Cholula (take that El Tapatio fans!) Like usual, my breakfast was amazing and once that meal was out of the way it was time to start day drinking --->enter home made sangria. Who doesn't love sangria??

Sipping sangria, passing the blunt, marinating some meat, and eating chips with guacamole. Neener neener neener.

Lunchtime??? Am I hungry already? Who knows, I'm baked and the Laker game is on, might as well just fire up the grill and throw the carne asada on, just so I'm prepared. Lakers WIN and we're still in the #1 spot, hmmm I guess that means it's time to eat. Should it be carne asada nachos, tacos, fajitas, quesadillas, or how about a carne asada sandwich? Hmmmm, all sound good, how about a sampler platter? Yes, that is EXACTLY what needed to go down.

I can't say that I actually know what happened or what has been happening over the course of the last 2 years that I've been cooking but my food seems to be infused with awesomesauce. Everything was so good, it just had to be the awesomesauce. When did I become so awesome that things I make are oozing the sauce that is awesome? I do not know. Was I just that faded that it was impossible for things involving cheesy-beefy-melty-glory to NOT taste good? I don't know, I just know it was damn good and I wish I had some leftovers...

Did anyone in LA hear about the Grilled Cheese Invitational? Unfortunately, I did not hear about this glorious event until it was too late for me to enter with my own competing sandwich. This does not make me happy. How would I NOT KNOW about a grilled cheese competition? Not just to enter my tastiest sandwich but...HELLO! I could have been a judge!

Hmmm, a judge? Or how about I make AND JUDGE my own grilled cheese invitational? So last night, after a day of eating all of the other treats, I decided to hold a mini grilled cheese tournament of my own. Toasted and grilled sourdough bread with a different combo of the following cheeses: mild cheddar, sharp cheddar, mozzarella and shredded mexican. All dusted on the outside with parmesean cheese. So which grilled cheese won the tournament? All of them, every mini square of each grilled cheese sandwich went down without a fight. I'd say it was a gold medal for each of them. Maybe next time I should try to have judges other than me...

All in all it was an uber chill 4/20. It's hard to compete with the glory that was last years 4/20 as Lilo and I were in Jamaica, Mon. What is better than being down-by-da-beach-mon smokin on a spliff and drinking an ice cold Red Stripe? Nothing, which is why I sat around eating and smoking.

This post might have made no sense, forgive me as I think I'm have a stoned-over type hang-over.

Paging Larry Birkhead

The war is on.... It's kind of like the situation in Texas with the Polygamist compound only sans inbreeding. In the past The Ringleader has totally been the cool aunt to lil Spidey to the point where Spidey gets so excited that she pees on the floor whenever the Ringleader comes over. The Ringleader does things like feed her table food, spin her around on the wood floors, and generally lets Spidey make bad decisions leaving me to deal with the aftermath.

On the other side of the battle is Roomie, who just recently has moved in and fallen for the lil AH. I've come home to them curled up together on the couch asleep, partaking in noogies and other rough-housing, not to mention he even took a whole day off work "sick" and spent it with the lil piggy. In such a short amount of time he has worked to form what I believe is an alliance with Spidey to the point where when we came home from our "Roomie Dinner Date" she peed on the floor she was so excited to see him. That lil puddle of pee was the last straw for the Ringleader.

Last night she came over to make Spidey chicken parm, one of Spidey's favorite treats, it's right up there with bacon which The Ringleader plans on frying up for her later this weekend. In addition to the Rigatoni from Ago that will be brought home for her on Saturday night. Anyhow, I was given the OK to tell Roomie about dinner but he was to understand that he could eat only after Spidey had eaten and had her fill. Lucky for him Spidey wasn't a total J-O-O and broke him off with some parm, which of course The Ringleader did not appreciate, in fact if looks could kill Roomie would have been DOA last night. There were glares, stares, and rolling of the eyes anytime Roomie made an attempt to interact with Spidey.

I believe though, that Roomie sealed his fate when he actually proceeded to dispose of his left over parm into the trash and not into Spidey's belly. I feel their alliance crumbling and hopefully he will wise up, get his act together and get back into the good graces of the honorable Spidey Pigglesworth. In the meantime I need to get an estate set up for her ASAP. Who knows where she would end up if something happened to me *Cringe and Shudder*

Sort Of Like Back To The Future But With A Gay Twist

The other day I recieved a letter from myself that I wrote to myself 5 years ago in my Senior English class. Still with me? Among other things the letter recounted the threesome I had at prom, my then current educational goals, a dollar bill in case "my broke ass needed it", and instructions to call 2 of my best friends at the time regardless of wether or not I was currently speaking to them. I happen to still be bestfriends with one of them but have not spoken to the other in 2 years.


**Let me back up, prior to opening this letter I went to Sushi with the Ringleader (for the 2nd night in a row) and had a pretty awesome safety buzz going**


I always try to make it a point to "listen to Lilo" so I picked up the phone dialed the last number I had for him. The following is a transcript of the first 2 minutes or so of the phone call:


Friend: HOOOOLLY SHIT

Me: Hey. How's life?

Friend: It's good


Me: Ya well I got a letter from myself that I wrote to myself 5 years ago and it told me to call you so you know.

Friend: Ummm ok I'm not going to ask

Me: So how have you been? Married? Kids?

Friend: Uhhhh.... Well, How do I ummm say this.... Do you want to speak to the guy I'm dating?

Now this did not exactly come as a total surprise, I mean the kid use to wear shirts on a regular basis that were shiney, shimmering, and/or velvet. Regardless I was a little shocked and midly upset that the deal we had made to get married once he was able to access his trust fund, was off. I basically lost my 401k plan... to another dude.

National High Five Day

I think what surprises me most about National High Five Day is that RS27 wasn't the one to notify me of this fine holiday.

RS, we know your penchant for high fiving randoms all over town, you think you would have let us know that today is the day we should all be raising our arms and slapping hands with strangers.

It's already 4pm and I have not gotten high given anyone a high five all day. I'd like to take this opportunity to high five all of our AH blog readers and friends. The fact that you read this nonsense makes you deserving of a mean girl high five!

Talking Shit

Clearly, I am a shit talker. I talk shit about a number of different subjects, people, groups, teams, and businesses. I am an equal opportunity shit talker but you know what really sets me apart from the rest of the gossiping shit-talking population?

I will talk shit to your mother f-ing face.

That's right. If I have something to say about anything or anyone you can bet your sweet ass I will say it to their face. Let me disclaim that I know I am an AH, but I don't usually just walk up to people and give them a piece of my mind or tell them I think they are stupid fucking morons just for kicks. I don't just run my mouth to be mean and ruin people's day, I don't want to ruin anyone's day. If I happen to hear something and think someone is lying, acting shady or being an AH I am likely to bring it to someone else's attention for further review. If that person decides to bring the conversation up to anyone else, including the person in question, they can quote me. I stand behind all words vom'd out of my mouth. I'm the type to take full responsibility and admit to anything I said and if I am wrong, I will be the first to admit and apologize.

Now, allow me to tell you what makes me want to stab someone in the fucking eyeball with an unsharpened #2 pencil.

When people tell me that someone is talking shit about myself, one of my friends, or making up stories relating to a night/place/time I was present...AND THEN TELL ME I FUCKING CAN'T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT IT! WHY?!?!?! Why do that to me? Why bother telling me ANYTHING AT ALL? Do you know what that is LIKE FOR ME? To have to see someone or talk to someone that I know has said some absolute bullshizz and pretend we are cool because I can not say WTF is your problem and interrogate them re: their lies? I can't fucking do it and it drives me insane that I can't stay true to myself and put shit talkers on blast, because I have to protect the person who told me. Because, I gave them my word. Plus, sometimes my own friends get their information in an illegitimate way such as; reading a text message they shouldn't have, hearing a conversation when no one thought they were around, or reading someone's MySpace mail when they forgot to logout.

I can't fake the funk and pretend to like people when I just don't. I don't live on Front Street! I mean I can, but why the hell would I? I have friends, lots of them and if one of them is out of line I need to let them know it, and make sure they know that the Ringleader don't play like that. People spend far too much time allowing unacceptable behavior to continue to exist within groups of friends and then wonder what happened when groups of friends begin to separate into miniature cliques. It's cause ya'll are bullshitting with one another. Stop bullshitting with one another!

It's so uber irritating to have to live knowing that complete nonsense was said that I can't address.

How do you deal with these situations? My word is bond and I would never betray the confidence of a friend in these situations, unless there was a really serious and valid reason for me to have to involve them further. In those situations, my friends have always understood that sometimes I have to do what I have to do.

In closing, if you THINK I will get mad and want to confront someone on something they said and you don't want to be quoted, don't fucking tell me.

My So Cal Life

Anyone who lives in Southern Cali knows that days like today are the reason we live here. What a glorious day it is here in the West LA/Santa Monica area. It's sunny and the temperature is a warm 87 degrees. This is why I live here and why I continue to bend over, head against the wall, and take it in my ass with no lube while California taxes the sh*t out of me. The past few weeks the weather has been whack, especially on the weekends. I was prepared to write a strongly worded letter to someone asking for my money back and then a day like today is bestowed upon us.

Sitting in my office looking out the window is exactly what I want to be doing on a day like today. Who wants to frolick on the beach when they can be sitting indoors in an air conditioned office?

Yes, that is my So Cal Life for today...

All I know is that it better stay nice like this all weekend as I am planning to lay out by the pool and get my faux skinny on (aka tan because a little color makes you look faux skinny). If I see one mother f-ing cloud that even starts to look gray, block my rays, or look sideways at me I am going to have to ask for a refund and ask someone to buy me a drink.

It looks like summer and feels like summer and now I'm ready. Time to break out the sundresses, hoochie shorts, champagne glasses and the motherf*ckin condoms.

Ho's in Different Area Codes

Seriously, every boy has groupie-ass-ho's in different area codes.

I hate MySpace and Facebook. It ruins a perfectly nice boys' credibility when their page is stacked with 100's comments by different broads in different parts of the US and abroad. The worst part is that the ho's pages are private so you can never tell whether the boys are responding to the ho mockery the ho's is leaving on their page. It's a fricken guessing game that is crazy making when someone as fab as myself has too much time on her hands.

I NEVER friend request the boys I'm interested in, most of the time they are public on the Space that is My or the Book that is Face. When they are public they have nothing to hide and obviously no shame in their game. I am able to bounce around stalking them and their top friends and commenters and I generally feel good about it afterwards. HOwever, when those dirty mofo's are private I just KNOW there is a reason for it (other than having potential employers see their nightlife antics). I often toy with adding them just because it drives me insane, I NEED to see their page BUT, I don't want to be a stalker so I NEVER EVER am the one to request the friend. I'm too cool for that, I pretend I don't really care about MySpace or Facebook and that the thought of them being on there never even crossed my mind. Then again, if I don't see their page then I must not know something, like about that girlfriend of theirs back in Boise, IdaHO.

Recently, in my stalking expeditions, I went as far as to ask another blogger if she happened to go to the same school as this boy and if perhaps she was his friend. I have no self control when it comes to these things! Thankfully, she is a stalker too and didn't think that I was a crazy lunatic. Being the absolute sweetheart that she is, she made some phone calls to try to gain access to his profile. All in the same day out of nowhere, the boy under investigation hits me up and asks me if I have a profile which of course I reply "Why yes, I do. Why don't you add me."

Me = Yay, cheering, and alerting the troops that I am about to gain access to the holy grail that is his page.

I'm IN!!!

DAMNIT, DAMNIT, DAMNIT!

It's a ho's paradise. Every area code is represented, even area codes that require a +0 prior to the area code and phone number. Every age group from teens to those creepin' up on their dirty 30's like me.

Needless to say, I wish I never gained access to this portal to hades which is not the portal to hades I am used to where gray water is piped into jacuzzi hot tubs filled with naked friends.

I now have a superior complex re: my age, height, weight, and area code.

I don't like to compete for boys and I don't like boys that have too many options - it makes me crazy and I start acting a fool.

A True Milestone in my FitMess™

This is sort of a big announcement for me and it's something even my fellow contributors don't know. The only person in this world that knows this is my Roomie, the nazi gym trainer, and that is because she saw it go down TWICE yesterday while at home.

As you all know I have been working on my FitMess™ and taking pilates between 3 - 4 times per week. In addition to Pilates, Stiletto and I have been working out after work 1-2 times per week by jogging/walking 3 miles as well as doing the famous Santa Monica Stairs. It's been really tough, but I am seeing a difference in how my clothes fit and I know I am losing weight. It seems that my weight loss plateaued for a month (or maybe just ate too much in Europe...) and now I'm noticing weight coming off and feeling pretty and skinny. But alas, that is not what I am here announcing.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am able to do something that I haven't been able to do since I was in junior high or elementary school.

I can TOUCH MY TOES!!!

Bend over to the front and touch ya toes! I can now do that WITHOUT BENDING MY KNEES!

I did it twice last night and even pointed it out to my roomie. Then after touching my toes, I bent down and touched the tip of my finger to the ground! Below my toes!

As of Friday February 8th, I could not touch my toes. I was not a bendy broad. I was struggling in Pilates to bend and stretch like the other bitches.

Now that I can touch my toes, I don't know what I'm going to do! It seems like the sky is the limit! Maybe there is some toe touching contest somewhere in the US? Wait, maybe I don't want to be at a toe touching contest, I'm sure there is something related to fetishes when you're dealing with touching toes. Ew. I'm not a huge fan of toes, but I am happy that I can now touch them. It has to mean that somehow all this hard work is paying off and I am getting to be a bit more flexible.

At the rate I'm going with flexibility, I'm going to be able to do the splits or even stand on one leg and lift the other leg up with my hand like Lilo.

I just might be a bendy broad and not just a broad that can be bent afterall...

Girl's Night Out & The Divorce Party

This weekend was nuts. In fact, the Mean Girls' have been in recovery mode since last week and have barely been able to keep up with out work, much less keep our eyes open!

As you know, the Mean Girls' have LOTS of friends, and what's surprising is just how many girl friends we have!

Disclaimer: Lilo may or may not want to admit that she does in fact actually have friends, she would much rather claim that she is emo, painting her nails black, and is barricaded in her townhome.

We always make it a point to get just the girls together for a night out dancing in the club, dinner, or drinks at a bar/lounge. The last time we all got together it was a big production complete with pre-party/pre-drinking, and all the ladies getting dressed up and hitting the club. Saturday we rallied a troop of approximately 20 ladies and hit the town but decided to go a little more low-key.

We started the night out for dinner at Don Antonio's, yes the Don Antonio's that is Heidi and Spencer from "The Hills" favorite restaurant. Since we're such a large group and they don't take reservations, the group was split up and at least 6 of us had the pleasure of sitting and table 27, Heidi and Spencer's favorite table in the cave. I'm not a big fan of Don Antonio's food but the price point is right, each of us ate dinner and had at least 3 drinks each for $20 including tip.

After dinner, we decided to hit up the bars on Main Street in Santa Monica. Since we never just go to bars or clubs and blend in like everyone else, we decided we needed to go there with a story as to why we're rolling so deep to the street that is Main on this fine So Cal evening. We came up with the entire story en route from the restaurant to the bar.

Enter, my best friend Tux who is in town for the weekend. Tux is the one who needs to know no one and will manage to make friends with everyone in the joint and get us moved into a more comfortable VIP area whether or not there is a VIP area that is open. We decided that since she was in town, we would say we were out celebrating her divorce (she is not married and never has been). For one, we're DEFINITELY not going to pay a cover charge to get into any club and for two a story will guarantee that we have lots to talk about and reminisce about after GNO is over.

We show up to The Mor Bar and we told the bartenders, bouncers/security, and patrons that we were celebrating Tux' divorce which was finalized on Friday. First of all, people LOVE that the ladies are out celebrating a divorce, my girl was getting high fives and congrats on being a free woman from everyone in the bar! People were asking what went wrong? Why was she getting a divorce? The rest of us would sort of pull people to the side and tell them the story:

Her ex-husband had cheated on her with her underage sister and the only reason Tux found out about it was because her sister is pregnant and doesn't know who the father is.

People could NOT believe it. I mean, it is pretty ridiculous and unbelievable but the reactions we got were priceless. Next thing you know people are buying bottles of champagne, toasting all of us, and the security guards and cocktail waitress is scouring the bar for "nice guys" to introduce to our friend. As the night went on, more of our pretty girlfriends were showing up for GNO at the bar. They said that the bouncers at the door were asking them if they were there for a birthday party and they said "uhhhh we're just" and then the bouncer said "Oh the Divorce Party?" The moment they heard divorce party the girls said "Oh ya, we're here for the divorce party..." We never told them that was the story but they just knew it was us when they heard that. Needless to say, they were not charged a cover to get in.

My crew is pretty damn Famous. Wherever we go we run things. It's kind of hard not to when you roll with 20 sets of legs, boobs, and pretty smiles but the story is what gets people interested and talking to you. LA people are far too cool to talk to anyone other than the people they are with when they go out. No guy in his right mind just walks up to girls in packs of 20 unless they want their balls served for breakfast to lions at the zoo. But when there is a good story and the girls are having fun talking to everyone, people are way more comfortable approaching us just to laugh and chat instead of making Dino eyes and jeebing us out. We are ALWAYS meeting new people and that's why everyone is always wondering who we are when we go out.

Personality type - The Visionary

Yep, they nailed me!

You Are An ENTP

The Visionary You are charming, outgoing, friendly. You make a good first impression. You possess good negotiating skills and can convince anyone of anything. Happy to be the center of attention, you love to tell stories and show off. You're very clever, but not disciplined enough to do well in structured environments. In love, you see everything as a grand adventure. You enjoy taking risks for love. And if things don't work out, you're usually not too much worse for the wear! You would make a great entrepreneur, marketing executive, or actor. At work, you need a lot of freedom to pursue your own path and vision. How you see yourself: Analytical, creative, and peaceful When other people don't get you, they see you as: Detached, wishy-washy, and superficial

What's" Your Personality Type?

Chicken and Waffles

If you're in the LA Area and looking for somewhere GLORIOUS to eat after a late-night of clubbing and partying you should make your way to one of the Roscoe's House of Chicken and Waffles restaurants.

You should not go there if you're on a diet (unless it is your cheat day).

If you ever find yourself baked out of your mind after a night of partying with Snoop Dogg, you should make your way to Roscoe's. Nothing tastes better than fried chicken dipped in the maple syrup from your waffle and swirled around. I don't think there is any meal that can satisfy a stoner better than salty savory fried chicken and sweet glorious waffles schmeared in butter.

** I'm starving **

BTW, don't ever try to go to Roscoe's for lunch UNLESS you live or have a hotel room near by. Eating at Roscoe's is a surefire way to put yourself into a food coma. Food coma's are best reserved for nighttime when you can get a solid 6-8 hours of sleep in. Mid-day eating at Roscoe's can put you out of commission for the remainder of the day.

It's also helpful if you plan the proper Roscoe's attire which should include pants, skirt, dress that is unrestrictive in the waist area. You don't want to have to unbutton the top button on your jeans so that you can stand up and have someone roll you out of there. Sometimes you can't help what you're wearing (showing up post-clubbing late-night) and that is why it's best to go there late night, it's a fashion show gone WRONG! I don't know where in the hell these people are coming from but hot damn ya need some sunglasses to help reflect the neon swap meet outfits some of these ladies are rockin'. And the dudes, you just want to say REALLY BRO?!?! You'll never see more fake bling and fake chains in your life. It's a good form of entertainment while you're waiting forever for a table in the middle of the night.