Recently I ran into the Kardashian sisters at the Victoria's Secret fashion show. Too bad I was cut out of the photo (damn paps!) or you could have seen that I was wearing the exact same dress as they, only mine was deep purple with orange and puse stiching and cutouts over the nipples. The fashion show was a big bore so we took turns flinging spit balls at the models and putting gum in Paris's hair extensions. Afterwards we went out for $18 cocktails at The Ivy where we chatted and gossiped for hours until it was time for Kim's butthole bleaching appointment. Well, I was having so much fun that I decided to tag along and get one of my own and wowza! - it hardly stung at all and now it looks all nice and snowy white back there!
For some reason John Mayer didn't seem all that thrilled to see me the other day. That may be because I spray painted his car with the word "Douchebag" after he didn't call me when he said he would. How dare he! I mean, we spent three magical hours getting busy in the pool and another thirty minutes humping in a jacuzzi, so when he said he'd call I believed him. Let me tell you, no one makes a fool of Prunella Jones and gets away with it!
Note to self: Buy some more black spray paint and consult urbandictionary.com for more creative ways to call someone an asswipe.
This week I also aquired my very own stalker which is actually kind of cool. (In Hollywood you are nobody without one.) Jessica Alba just won't leave me alone. She's been jealous of me for years, you know. And then we got drunk and had crazy sex that one time and she just went bonkers! Told me I was the love of her life and that she couldn't live without me. Well, I was touched of course, but gently explained that I preferred to be wild and free like a butterfly, etc. and yadda yadda. Then I got her some Prozac and introduced her to that guy she married. Everything seemed fine and I assumed they were happy together with their little baby, but I guess not. Yesterday there was a note in my mailbox - written in either blood or Chanel's Vamp Red nail polish, it's hard to tell them apart - warning that she was going to kill me if I didn't come back to her. I sort of laughed it off until I saw her sitting outside of my house this morning with an ax! Damn! I had to sneak out the back and was nearly late for my tanning bed session. She must be off the meds or something!
Oh Justin Timberlake! Isn't he so cute? He's letting the world know that we slept together five - count 'em - five times. Actually, it would have been six but he got miffed when I put on that Britney wig and started singing "Hit Me Baby One More Time." Who would have thought he would still be so sensitive about that after all these years?
Kirsten Dunst and I only slept together four times. I'm a busy woman, you know. Although...hmmmmm...looks like I'm free tonight. Kirsten, call me!
13 comments:
Do I really look like jessica alba?
All that sleeping ... Seems you could have done something more. Being so tired maybe you need vitamins with extra iron.
Is there any way you could send Jessica Alba my way? I mean if you give her my name maybe she would come over. Pleeeeeeeeaaaaasssseee!!!
When Jessica's finished over there, please send her my way. That half cord of logs isn't going to split itself.
I hope you're going to share the name of the butthole bleaching expert. I've been looking for a recommendation.
kiki just doesn't do it for me
I love the sound of the dress you wore to the Victoris Secret show I love those 'interesting cut out' dresses, I have the arse cut out of my dresses - no point bleaching the butthole if no-one can see it.
hey, when kirsten comes over try and swipe her sunglasses for me.
He expects the strap-on when you wear the wig.
I was hoping to see a picture of your bleached choochoo hole! Whats up with that!?!
Fuck- no, you look more like Jessica Simpson.
Bill- maybe I'll cut back on the Vicodin. It makes me sleepy.
Ron- okay, but be careful. She has an ax.
XL- you romantic devil.
Wnedy- yeah, it's tough to find a quality butthole bleacher. I'll email you.
Diane- me either. That's why I only fucked her four times.
Lulu- a woman after my own heart!
Fashion- done!
GF- and cries like a baby when he doesn't get it.
Honk- sorry, this blog is rated PG-13.
I can't believe you did that to J.T.! He's sensitive! What did you think would happen?
maybe your butthole bleaching session would be what it would take to get John Mayer to forgive you. From my understanding, he's real into back-door tourism.
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