Wendy Williams Must Die

Well it's been a helluva couple weeks. Humbling, annoying, and embarrassing. First of all, months ago, I was asked to present at the Paper Magazine Nightlife Awards! Yes where the "who’s who of who cares" gather annually to celebrate bacchanalia and what’s left of NYC’s dwindling “nightlife.” I have been featured in the past in paper magazine a few times as “A star on the rise” (nothing rising that quickly) and shit like that and they have been very kind fans of mine and I was totally excited to pretend I was presenting at the Oscars for one night. I had a dress made, I got a spray tan, I had homo come over to my home to do my hair, I had the shoes the jewels the bag the fur the whole 9. While I was in my Julia Roberts tizzy I got a phone call hours before the event started by the people at paper saying "sorry total oversight but there was a problem and we forgot to put you on the list of presenters but feel free to come and walk the red carpet and enjoy the event and we'll find somewhere for you to sit and enjoy the awards." There I am, covered in teriyaki tanning sauce, dipped in makeup like a chicken in flour and getting sewn into my skin tight dress now ready to rip it off pull down the blinds and eat chicken teriyaki in my sweatpants. So I threw a stink, said I had a dress made, I was all excited yada yada yada so they said basically, if a "somebody" doesn't show up, we'll have room for you "a nobody" to present. Wendy Williams was hosting and I met her and she said “GIRL THAT IS A DRESS AFTER MY OWN HEART!” and I said “HOW YER DERN WENDY! Will you take a picture with me?” and she said, I kid you not “mmmmm yeah, no thanks I’m good!” Which was pretty awesome getting rejected by the black version of me (check that off the list) Anyway, I ended up presenting with Paul Iacono, the actor from that show “The Hard Times of RJ Berger” and I did it and I knocked it out of the fucking park and was hilarious, obviously because I’m amazing which is what no body seems to realize (TOOOOT TOOOT!) Regardless of the initial humiliation and rejection of the evening, it was really nice to throw on a pretty dress (throw on! look at me, aren't I cute? get pulled and pinned into like chestnut stuffing in a Christmas goose...yeah I’m going with goose! I'm feeling Dickens-y today!) and get my picture taken and feel glamorous again. I used to be the party girl about town, trotting around in baby doe heels and wiggle dresses every night of the week, soaking up moonlight, snorting pretty things out of pretty things with pretty people, I had cocktails named after me (The Harriet Star: 1 part Vanilla Vodka, 3 parts champagne and 1 part bartender urine) I'd get pinched by rascally French men and raped in coat check closets (it's not rape if he yells "SUPRISE!") Now I’m typically in sweatpants eating 100-calorie snack packets or my "stand up comedy uniform" (head to toe exhilaration by target) and doing my thing. A quieter life, like a Quaker...if the Quaker was a huge slut who loves tequila and talks about camel toe on stage for free.
In other news! I went out with this guy (read last entry WHAT A DIFFERENCE A TAINT MAKES) if you didn't read it (I ain't mad) the short of it is that I picked him up at a bar and had a very fun weekend. Let's just say the Christmas goose wasn’t the only thing stuffed in this blog! The dude had such a wonderful time (not to toot my own cunt but I’m REALLY FUN in the sack, TOOOOOT…#notaqueef) he wanted to see me again but this time take me on a "proper date." So I said, ok. I had an 8pm show at Gotham, I’d be done around 9/9:30 ish and I’m gonna be hungry (All that audience murder really works up an appetite...TOOOT TOOOT) so let's get food and hang out. So he was supposed to pick me up, he was 2 hours late, it was pouring rain I told him to go fuck himself and I went home defeated after a perfectly good high from a good set at Gotham. Of course, I’m thinking to myself, why would anything go right for me with any man. I mean look at my track record...which is just a bunch a bukake. So I get a text while I’m slumped over heating up a bullshit 200-calorie lean cuisine. Then he's downstairs and wants to make it up to me. I agree, he takes me to a bistro across the street from my apartment and we wine and dine and I forgive him because I have low self esteem and I love wine and then the check comes and his face DROPS! The waiter comes back, his card got fucking declined so I had to pay for the whole thing! And then, get this! I FUCKED HIM ANYWAY! I figured, what's the difference I did it before and the least I can get out of this disaster of a night is some head! And I just can't resist a man...it's a sickness. They're just so beautiful with their shoulders and their arms and their smell and their mouths and their skin and their hair...GRRRRR. I know I’m vile! I cannot be stopped! I'm not sure if I am going to get into a relationship any time soon but I can tell you one thing, I am aware that this is not the way to go about it. I need to retrain myself to not jump on the first thing with pants that gives me attention! That's how I ended up waking up that time with KD Lang's toe in my mouth! I do want a relationship. I want to give my love to somebody really bad, I also want my big break so I can do my thing and get paid and get more attention from people wearing pants! It will all come. Right now everything is just out of arms reach. The things I want are dangling in front of me but I can't quite have them yet but I will soon. I hope. I think so. I have so much goddamned love to share and when I’m in that place of sharing love I’m at my happiest and beam light and that's where I want to stay. :)
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