Lance Bass Ruined My Life

Where is Lance Bass with the white horse already?

Monday, June 11, 2007

I need a job. Or at the very least a life. I need to find some other things to do with my time. I mean there is always working on the plan to become famous, but one can only spend so many hours a day trying to figure out a way to break into reality television. (I do have an idea for a show, but it still needs a little work. So far it's just me sitting in a lawn chair, throwing eggs at the hotel, 24 hours a day. Details to come.)

Here are just a couple of observations that I have made the past couple of days now that I am stuck in a lifeless existence.

-         Three in the morning is not a convenient time for the dogs in the neighborhood to start barking. It's just not.

-         It is entirely possibly to watch too many episodes of Friends in one sitting. (18 is my record. How sad am I?)

-         It is not okay for me to actually own a copy of From Justin to Kelly. And on top of that it is not okay for me to have watched it. (On a related note, it is perfectly acceptable for to own and watch On the Line. This is just another reason for Lance Bass to fall in love with me.)

-         Paris Hilton is stupid. (I actually knew that one already, but it just seems to be reinforced lately. And please tell me it was my imagination that some dumbass said that Paris is America's version of Princess Di. Really?)

-         Microsoft Word is very strange. (Did you know that it does not consider dumbass a word? Or dumbasses for that matter? And that butt munch is two words? I always just assumed it was one.)

-         Naming my dog after a Borg from Star Trek was probably not a good idea. Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One just gives the dog license to act up and not listen and try to escape from the yard and assimilate the other dogs in his ways of mischief. (Okay. Why the hell does Microsoft Word recognize Borg as a word and not dumbass? Which one is more likely to be used in everyday conversation?)

This is why I need a life. Look at what my mind does when I have nothing else to occupy its time. It's really only a matter of time before I start stalking Jen Lancaster.

No. The horse is not dead yet.

Friday, June 08, 2007

Is it just me or is everyone else excited about the next season of the Simple Life: Don't Drop The Soap?

Do you think Paris is going to be able to pick out whose bitch she's going to be?

Obligatory Paris Hilton Blog

Friday, June 08, 2007

Since I am nothing if not a follower I have to put my two cents in about the travesty of justice that is the Paris Hilton debacle. As my response I have written the following letter. (If anyone knows Paris, please feel free to forward the letter to her.)

Dear Paris,

You are so fucked up! What the fuck is wrong with you? I know you have been under a lot of stress lately. I mean I'm sure Nicole is using your hard times to try to usurp your leadership over the spoiled, slutty girls of the world, but get a grip on yourself. Just because you got sentenced to jail does not mean your life is over. It means that you broke the law. And got caught. And you were stupid about it. You know, not everyone has a publicist to blame for their stupidity.

I just think it is utterly ridiculous that you got out of jail early because the stress was giving you an "undisclosed medical condition". You were only going to be there for 23 days. That's not even your full sentence. You got a reduction for what I can only assume was a spectacular work of fellatio. So suck it up, girl.

Having never spent any time in jail, I can't really speak from personal experience, but I'm sure jail sucks. But it's jail. I'm sure that it was very tough for you to go a whole three days without your hair extensions And it had to be a difficult to adjust to sheets that were not 320,000 thread count. Not to mention that they wouldn't let you get a designer prison jumpsuit. (I'm sure Versace is getting right on that for you.) Even with all that against you, you can stick it out, Paris. I never thought I would ever say this, but I have faith in you.

Let me try to put this into words that you will understand. Paris, you are so not hot.

Hating you always

Sean

P.S. You should really rethink this whole house arrest thing. You do realize that that ankle bracelet is going to clash with everything you own. Donna Karan doesn't make those. Though that is really something you should think about for your own clothing line

Fame Seeking Whore: The Sequel

Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Okay, so I have way too much time on my hands. The problem with working the overnight shift and then getting totally unjustifiably fired (But I'm so over it) is that it is really hard to get back to sleeping like a normal person. So I've been watching a lot of late night TV and my Veronica Mars DVDs. (I never tire of her spunkiness.) But the good news is that this totally gives me time to work on my plans to become famous.

Here's the new plan seeing as the first one was just a little too creepy. I think I should submit an audition tape to be on I Love New York 2. I could totally make it on that show. And really, who wouldn't want to see me battling it out with New York on TV. She could give me a fun nickname like Sarcasm or Bitch I Will Cut You. Just think how much shit I could stir in that house. Sneaking behind people's backs and reporting all the butt naked ho activity to New York. Then I would enlist Captain Kirk and the whole Enterprise crew to help me destroy her Klingon of a mother.

And then after the show is over and New York chooses the gangsta wannabe and they grow tired of dry humping each other on the reunion special, Vh1 will announce that I am going to have my own show, The Aroma of Bitch I Will Cut You. It won't be a dating or anything because, well, ewww. It will basically just be me with a bunch of scantily clad men serving me while I talk shit about people and send evil thought rays towards the hotel. Occasionally, I will have some people I don't like parade around in front of me so I can throw rotten vegetables at them. (If you are really nice to me, you can guest star and even invite people you don't like to the parade.) And then at the end of the show I will announce myself the winner because I need the money more than any of the other "contestants". The reunion special will be a hoot.

Now wouldn't that be some kick ass television.

(A little off topic, but I think that everyone out there should send prayers out to Paris Hilton during this troubling time in her life. It's good that the reports are saying that she is doing well after like two whole days in jail. She such a little trooper. I mean she can't even use her cell phone or Blackberry or anything. Where is she keeping her naked pictures?)

Fame Seeking Whore

Friday, May 25, 2007

I so had a better blog all lined up, but my mom totally ruined it. So blame her if this sucks.

I should totally be famous. I would make the best famous person. There would be none of this vajayjay flashing going on. Though I would probably be up there on the bitch scale, alongside Shannen Dougherty. My wacky antics would be flashed all over the tabloids and on E. I would so make it worth everyone's time.

If I was famous then Lance would totally be my arm candy and we would plot on the world. Every other day we could orchestrate this huge break up fight in a very open place, just to turn around and get back together. We could totally one up Jessica Simpson and that weird hair guy. You know give the paparazzi something to take pictures of since they would be constantly following us around, what with us knocking Brad and Angelina down to become Hollywood's new power couple.

But alas I am not famous. I will be someday. I think I need to give the world a helping hand in expediting this endeavor. Here's what I think I am going to do. I am going to pay a chubby little blonde girl to follow me around so that she can be there when I go places where there are going to be people. And then whenever I walk in, it is going to be this girl's job to start crying. (à la Sanjaya) Sooner or later someone is bound to take notice. Then we can make the rounds on all the early morning talk shows and when asked why she cries when I'm around, she'll say, "I mean he's like…wow."

Of course, this plan has a lot of potential to backfire on my fame seeking ass.

So not fair

Monday, May 21, 2007

You know I've taken this whole getting fired thing in stride. I really haven't let it get to me all that much, only mild fits of pissedivity. Namely because I know there is nothing I can do, except send evil thought rays towards the place. But now I am kind of pissed off because I found out something.

I was flipping though the channels the other day when I saw an advertisement for a casting call for The Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search for the Next Girl Who Will Probably Only Sing With Us One Time and Then Fade Into the Background but Will Still Dress Like a Hoochie. I could hardly believe my eyes. They were going to be in the same city as me. What made it so much worse is that casting call was being held at the hotel.

That is so not fair. After all the shit that I put up with at the place it is my right to be there when all these skanks come to town. Think of all the judgment and snide remarks that I could make if I was there. This is wrong on so many levels. I belong there. My bitchy attitude demands that.

But I can't be there because I'm not allowed on hotel property for guest safety. What they fail to realize is that mine is to sit there and make fun of people and not so much with the whole killing spree thing. Why am I being deprived of this experience? Think about it. Skanks dressed like strippers flooding the hotel! It's too much.

That would have made all the drunk hicks, the gay boys, the stupidity worth it. I could have lived my whole life with that sight. See this is why the hotel sucks ass.