Sunday, April 29, 2007

Where is My Fucking Bicycle??

It is Sunday afternoon. I did not accomplish anything this weekend. I am still tired and cannot believe I have to start all over again tomorrow. What is most upsetting to me is that EVERYBODY I know is getting some. I have been getting the calls from the Filthy and Gorgeous posse outlining their escapades from the weekend. I feel like Pee Wee Herman in Pee Wee's Big Adventure when he lost his bike. Everywhere he looked, there were bikes; tandem bikes, old fashioned bikes with the big wheel, dogs riding bikes........Where is my fucking bike!!!! This is borderline ridiculous at this point. I think I am going to take a page out of my friend The MBA's book and just try to work on myself during this dry spell. No more smoking, no drinking, working out......basically just give myself a big healthy hug. Take control of my life and eliminate my bad habits. Once I begin showing myself the respect I deserve, maybe I will find a guy to do so as well. The real question is; once I find one, will I remember how to ride one?

Wednesday, April 25, 2007


I have just decided I am going to have a new hobby based on a new word I have learned....portemanteau(x). The definition is two words that you put together to make a new word. I love this word so much I could eat it up with a spork!!! I am going to make it my life's mission to make as many portemanteaux as I possibly can. I hope all the Filthy and Gorgeous posse gets in the spirit and plays along. I know this list will grow over time. Let's start with some ones we all know and love and a couple of my creation;
Mandals=men's sandals
mansaire=what mantits should wear
Moobs=what Mantits has
craftsterbate=substituting crafting for sex
badonkathonga=when you get so fat, your regular underwear become a thong
clitzkrieg=the amateurish attempt by a male to bring a woman to orgasm by roughly and repetedly pushing their little button. not a good thing.
cockblock=attempt by a male or female to kill your action
anesthepensia=the effect induced by a male who a. either bangs you so long you are numb or b. bangs you for a log period of time with no varience of technique resulting in you reviewing your shopping list in your head
fucktard=when fucker and retard alone just will not do
alcohomaulic=when a very drunk guy tries to get in your pants. For examples of this, refer to the entries on San Fran.
complidiss=back handed compliment (courtesy of SC)
procrastibate=masturbating when you REALLY should be doing something else
chillax=take a chill pill and quit being such a spaz (courtesy of Sissy, she says this to me all the time)
lazidiot=when you are too lazy to even make the effort to get laid (courtesy of SC)
frenemys=used to describe two women who act like friends, but hate each other's guts, think Lindsey Lohan and Paris (or Kat and Nicole back in the day)
"G"ihad=my personal holy war (or as I like to call it, my "whorey" war) to get laid. For more details refer to the entries on Skeptic.
Frustramax=when you are having sex or masturbating and are RIGHT THERE and just cannot finish....RIGHT THERE!!!!! No happy ending! ugh! (I was favoring frustrabation for this one and SC came up with this as an alternative. Or maybe frustramast? Which do you prefer?)
psycherette=when you are out partying, and go to have a cig and realize your pack is empty...doh!
hairapist=When you go to your hair stylist. There is nothing more sacred than this relationship. We tell each other EVERYTHING.

Rat Race

This week is going to blow. Let's recap where we left off.....I hit on a gay man for two hours Saturday. Was blown off again by Skeptic on Sunday (excuse was ear infection this time, I told him I had no interest in his ears. That was not a good excuse.) Monday, I outed a "Nigerian Irish" scammer of the lonely hearted and found out I need almost 3 grand of dental work. Tuesday, I spent fourteen hours in the car with a supplier I have labeled my "Trunk Monkey". An unpleasant man. I did have a surprisingly good day with him. Today, I have con calls and then am riding all day with the Big Cheese from one of my suppliers. I have to have dinner with them. After dinner, San Fran is in town for one night only, and I am going to run to the Beverly Hilton to scratch an itch I have had for a month and a half. Thursday, I have to be up at 5am and out by 6:30 to travel the world with the Big Cheese again. Ugh. When all is said and done, I will have driven almost 800 miles this week. I am already exhausted and it is only the am of hump day. In the meantime, I should not be blogging....I should be answering the nearly 200 emails I got yesterday, doing my trip reports, sending out the info requested in these meetings yesterday as well as following up on the leads from the trade show we did last week. I am not even going to mention what a mess my apartment is. My dogs look sad and are neglected. I am tired of this rat race. Wouldn't be so bad if I were making a living not just running in circles on my little wheel. Seems that I never make it anywhere, I end up right where I started or even a little worse off. The good news is, I will give a hell of a bj when my teeth fall out because I cannot afford my dental care. I will be POPULAR with the that kind of Cops cheap back alley whore sort of way. Even inside a wheel, there is a silver lining.

Monday, April 23, 2007

Eharmony scamarama

I am beginning to think that Single Dad is one of those Internet schemers that try to bilk money out of poor, lonely single women. I am the latter, however, I am also too smart to fall for this crap. Let's look at the warning signs, shall we? We have already covered the "schmmopy" thing....too much too soon. He has told me a sad story regarding how his girlfriend took a bunch of money and abandoned him and their daughter (who could not be cuter, he shared pictures of her IMMEDIATELY). He has made himself a noble guy by telling me he is going to Africa to check out one of the many children's charities he funds (this one is for children with HIV). He called me this morning, and the phone number, which I am sure he forgot to block, was 13 digits long. When I asked him where he lived, he said LA. Um, OK...can you narrow that down a lil bit? (Now, if you didn't know ANYTHING about LA, what street would you name?) He told me he lived on Hollywood Blvd. (Right, exactly). My spidey senses are tingling, something is just not right here. Curiosity is getting the better or me so I began pushing for a meeting. We agreed on Friday. I asked him for a local number I could contact him on and the line went dead. Think I should hold Friday afternoon for him?

To add on, the 13 digit number he called from began with is what came up when I Googled;
Nigeria international country codes & city calling code. International Country Code for calling Nigeria. Nigeria country code: 234 ...
nuf said.

Ok, yet another update. Please bear in mind this is the ONLY person I have spoken to off of Eharmony. I just called to report him to Eharmony and they are WELL aware of who he is. He uses this children's charity line etc. on all of his different personas. When they find "Sonny" out, they shut him down and he just opens another account with a different name and different picture. Good news, at least my gut instincts were right. My mojo and gaydar may be broken, but my sense of self-preservation is not. I have to remember the words of Mr. Fantastic, God just doesn't want me to be happy.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Tropical Brainstorm

Another window into my soul....this is one of my FAVORITE albums of all time. The non Latin flavor tunes are disappointing but there are some gems on this disc. Two tracks in particular are anthems....In These Shoes......about choosing shoes over these shoes? I don't think so...Nuf SAID KRISTY! And the song which defines my slutty alter ego, Celestine. "Oh she is hot is hot is hot, she is a wild and wicked slut and she lives inside my head and stops me sleeping...." I think many of us can identify with channeling this wicked part of ourselves when we feel swept away and know we are being naughty. Sometimes losing control is so bad it is good......"Celestine I know you're there in your exotic underwear....." This song belongs in the soundtrack of unabashed, wild, uninhibited, no apology sex with your girl Kat here. Do do do do....................

Broken Gaydar

Sunday morning. Dogs chomping at the bit to go outside, me nursing a fat cup of very black and thick coffee and reflecting on Saturday night. Sexual Chocolate had a bbq yesterday afternoon. Regular cast of characters there; Duke, Boobalicious, the Cheap Guy (that stuck me with the tab last time he went out with us), Cool Ron and the rest of the SC posse. Good peeps. SC is pretty proficient in the kitchen and around the grill. (I am somewhat pissed he has never invited me over for dinner before! Now that I know the kid has skills believe me I will be pushing this issue.) Unfortunately, I had to blow out of the bbq early as I was going to the Dodger's game with Boy Gorgeous and the Trainer followed by a trip to the comedy club in Hollywood to see one of their hometown boys perform in a satiric political round table discussion. We got to the Trainer's house and decided to bag the Dodger game due to the chilly weather (what a bunch of pussies we are, we are all from the Midwest!) We hung out for a bit discussing everything from Hepatitis C to homemade tattoos.....salmonella to moisturiser (the Trainer is a former construction worker turned metro sexual). We then went to the comedy club to watch a bunch of uninformed Liberal bleeding hearts bash our American way of life. Pointing fingers at those of us who drive sport utilities (which I do) and keep the machine of capitalism working by consuming the latest and greatest gadgets (which I do), blaming us for the "war on oil"......actually made me angry. BG leaned over and was like, "I like stuff. Why is that wrong?" I replied that was why we lived here and not Iran to which we clinked our glasses in a conservative band of superiority to the Liberals that, admittedly, would be riding their bikes home from the club. (oh yeah, well I hope your moral indignation keeps you warm on the long cold bike ride, I will be rolling in the Infinity sport utility with my heated leather seats hugging my ass. by the way, pull another bong why don't you!) Moreover, do we not have a moral obligation to step in and crush a regime which uses gang rape as a method of controlling their population, horrific torture.......let's get real, Saddam is a bad guy and did bad things to innocent people. Protecting our way of life, sending a message to potential terrorists and standing up for people that are so disenfranchised they cannot do that for themselves is not a war for oil. Our government, the war, not perfect but there is nowhere better to live on the planet than here. I will get off my soap box my mojo is so broken, I ended up speaking with a comedian for the rest of the evening and I thought we were getting along very well. I was surprised when at the end of the night, he didn't ask for my number. In the car, BG and the Trainer commented on how gay he was. Gay!??!? A. how could I have missed that and B. why didn't they tell me I was wasting my time and my A material on a gay man?? I am going to get ready....going to a punk rock knitting event at my LY S (local yarn store for those of you unfamiliar with knitting terminology) and then watch the Red Sox game with Skeptic. I am not even hoping for sex.

Friday, April 20, 2007

The Mouse is Dead

Single Dad is turning out to be quite a weirdo. We chatted last Saturday where he seemed normal and somewhat cool. We chatted, briefly, yesterday morning when it started to appear that he is a bit of a freak; "My BEAUTIFUL Kat! I missed you soooooo baaaddddddddd! Did you stay sweet? Honey, schmoopy, baby......." I am not a schmoopy girl. Certainly not with someone I have had two brief conversations with. This is too much too fast and it is freakin' me out. Boy Gorgeous and I were discussing this relating a recent "Come to Jesus" convo he had with one of his chicks. It is best in the beginning to play your cards close to your vest. This way, the mark reads into the silence what they want to see there. Their imagination allows them to insert their own frame of reference into the gap thus creating the ideal mate. To illustrate this, let's use Single Dad. He is spazzy and I am reading this as desperation and insincerity. Now, had he approached me Dragnet style (just the facts mam) I would view him as cool, together and possible relationship material. Because he is volunteering all of this over the top bullshit, he has eliminated my ability to fantasize about him. There is no mystery. It is all on the table and that is no fun. My friend Tania used to say, "cats don't play with dead mice." The thrill is in the chase and discovery. If we are already at this crescendo where is left to go in a relationship? The only place is down I tell you. I am suspicious of anyone that serves their emotions up so readily.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

Husband Material

I have been displeased with takes so frickin' long to get to the point where you can actually talk to someone. I haven't gotten many matches either. I will say, it is nice when you can see they are 5'4 or a postman and just click "close match" and not worry about having to sugar coat the truth about why you are not interested in continuing. I finally got to the point where I am speaking to one guy, Single Dad. We chatted for quite a while yesterday and I am cautiously optimistic about this guy. He honestly seems pretty cool! He has a five year old daughter, who is BEAUTIFUL. He is successful and tall (6'4)! He has a good sense of humor. He wants marriage. How often do you hear that from a guy in La?? I am actually looking forward to speaking to him today. Maybe I will be on one of their commercials. Here I go again.....getting too excited. I need to slow that roll and just chillax as Sissy would say. I hope I am ready for a "grown up" relationship. Can I get rid of my Sponge Bob cuddle pillow? Or my tshirt that says, Please Lick Me? Or my PJ's that say, Boys are Smelly? Would someone actually entrust their child to me? Kids love me....that is for sure. This is a classic case of be careful what you wish for......I think it might be a nice change of pace being with someone that is stable and grounded. Maybe some of that will rub off on me.

Friday, April 13, 2007

Married Men

There is a false sense of security when you go out with married men. As friends, really. I just had dinner with someone I love very much, the Vice President. We have been friends since I moved out here. Genuine friends. We met through our jobs, and over the years we have talked about EVERYTHING in our lives. I won't lie when I say that at some point, maybe about two years ago, I felt the energy change from friendship to.....well, I dunno, something different. There is an undeniable attraction between us. I have morals as Duke will lament...I was raised with a strict sense of right and wrong which keeps me from acting on this attraction. I have never messed with a married man (I should say knowingly, there was that college professor that told me his wife was his "roommate" when I picked him up from his house one time. Imagine my surprise when I saw his wedding picture with his "roommate" on the desk of a mutual friend. He called me Mariposa and read me Kahil Gibran. Sigh.) The VP's life is perfect, from the outside. He has become wildly successful since I have known him and is loving his life. He is currently living the American Dream...sort of. I would kill to live his family life. For him, something is missing. We had such a great time at dinner and it was very difficult to say goodnight. I RAN home. I didn't trust myself to do the right thing this time. I was picturing the angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other whispering naughty things in my ear. Believe me when I tell you, the devil was making a heap of sense to me tonight. As I type, I find myself smelling his cologne on my hands......I am having a hard time shaking it off. Is it true what they said in When Harry Met Sally, women and men cannot be friends? Is it true that men are always looking to score with their female "friends"? Is the opposite true; I am DRIPPING wet right now and my clit is the size of a walnut. I cannot see him again soon. Unfortunately, we don't just connect on a physical level. I am afraid if I see him again I will not be able to run away........would be so easy to run toward someone. Messing with a married man would be a recipe for disaster for me. Good thing I didn't take one of his multiple job offers............I am supposed to be going to Hollywood with BG soon. Think I am going to take a pass and just go to bed, by myself. Again. Would be the same if I were dating the married guy. Cold and lonely.

I Yam What I Yam

Oh this is RICH!!!!!!!!!!!! Evidently, Boy Gorgeous spoke to Sarah to get her side of the story from Saturday night (when she left me to be raped and dismembered at the Staples center.) According to BG, her story was identical to mine with the names inverted (as he suspected it would be) with the notable exception of what happened in front of the parking structure. I was drunk and belligerent and tried to fist fight her! OK, question to the Filthy and Gorgeous posse, if you are going to lie shouldn't you make it believable? If she said I was drunk and tried to smother her with a loud "I love you Maaaaaaaan!!!" this story would be perhaps plausible. Here was Duke's response, " Duke: WTF? HAHAHAHAAHAHAH that is such BS! You don't get mean when you're drunk, you get loud, but not mean." Those who know me laughed their asses off and cried a mighty BULLSHIT to this story. People in Cali are insane. Period. Insane. Let's suppose her version of the story was in fact true. Does it alleviate her of her responsibility as a. my friend and b. a woman (bound by Girl Code) to make sure I was safe? Especially if I were that drunk and that out of control? Isn't it worse that she left her "ripshit drunk" friend in the ghetto, alone, at eleven o'clock at night, even more vulnerable, and an even bigger target than if my story were true? I am sure if I tried to fist fight her she would have been perhaps, scared to be in the car alone with me. There were TWO GUYS there!!! COME ON! (and by the way, wtf is up with those assholes that would just stand there and watch all this go down? San Fran wants to kick some pussy guy ass!) Shame shame shame. Broke with Girl Code. My boss pointed out that this breaks with Man Law as well, never leave a man behind.....except if he is going to score. That is the only difference as he sees it. So, I am on my way out to meet a boy. I will do my best to avoid fist fights this evening...especially since I cannot even form a fist with my broken right hand. I am wearing a new dress right now, I am calling it my "slutty June Cleaver" dress. The only fist fighting I will be doing tonight (or ever, for that matter) is fighting the boys off! Wish me luck!

Thursday, April 12, 2007

Tonight's date with Skeptic

Just got dinner back from dinner with Skeptic.

Nuf said.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

I am a glutton for peeps and punishment

spankie: glad to hear there was no Easter celebrating going on Mr. Atheist. More peeps for the rest of us.
spankie: are you around?
Skeptic: No, just left.
spankie: ha ha! you are a funny one.......i think i gained ten lbs of marshmallows peeps this weekend.
Skeptic: That's not good, 'cause you were a little hefty already
spankie: thanks sunshine.
Skeptic: I prefer to be called Darkness.

We have a date. Thursday night. Think he will show? Is so, he may get a "Peep" show, of the marshmallow variety. I keep them right here (patting my peep pooch.) Talk me down my peeple, I am already getting excited.

Double Troubles

Friday night was a blast......dinner at Cha Cha Chas was really fun. I do find it disconcerting when I sit down at the table full of women and I am the flattest one there! Holy crap, SC's friends are stacked! Boy Gorgeous was the only male at our table and all he could do is look around and give his sly little smile and confided in me, "I like boobs." We went to Little Temple afterward and the DJ was off the hook! Rocking DJ Quik, Tribe Called Quest.......awesome. SC looked like he was having fun, I can tell when he is getting ripped because he begins sweating profusely which is immediately evident as he has no hair. One of SC's friends tried to teach me how to do the Shakira hips don't lie thing, unfortunately I am terminally white and my body just will not move that way. I guess there is video of this (thanks a lot Duke!) The club was thumpin' and I had a blast. Sarah, on the other hand, was scared to death. She was afraid to leave her car and wanted to leave pretty much from the minute we got there. I don't know what her problem was, it isn't like it was 11pm, she was by herself in the Staples center parking lot. Now THAT would be scary! I also don't like girls that talk about other girls. Very cunty. Boy Gorgeous was very drunk and tried picking up this Hispanic chick that didn't speak any English. She told him she didn't want trouble and we (pointing at me and Sarah) were troubles. BG has a vague recollection of this, he just remembers there was a language barrier. Sarah said that she looked like a tranny, and within minutes everyone in our posse was talking about BG hitting on a tranny. We had a great time and BG came back here and passed out in my bathroom. I had to pee like a racehorse and couldn't get into my bathroom so I was reduced to peeing in the bushes outside my house with my dogs. Fucking classy! SC just posted the pics of his bday on his blog and it looks like there was a similar ending for his evening. This last pic is classic, he is passed out on his bathroom floor. Looks like our work here is done....happy birthday SC!!!!!!!

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Don't tell Sarah I am ok

Oh my God, I have NEVER been so scared in my life. Seriously, I am pretty fearless and I was shitting a brick tonight to the point I left Sissy and Boy Gorgeous messages as to my last known location and companion. With car make and model sort of scared. To back up the story a bit, I was lucky enough to get four tix in the premier seats for the Clippers game tonight. I invited Sarah who invited Ian who invited his old roommate.....who I can't remember his name. We had a good time at the game, the tix were pretty good and we all estimated their value at about a grand. Thank you Kat! Sarah, the designated driver got drunk. After the game, we went to a bar so she could sober up a bit and eventually the guy that I cannot remember his name had a thing and needed to go home, immediately. He was going to take a train or bus to do so. As those in the posse know, we come together, we leave together so we all get walking to the car to go. On the way, I get in an argument with the guy who's name I can't remember. Honestly, I am thinking he was being ungrateful, and a puss as it was only a little after ten. I don't like him, but Sarah does. We are almost at the car, and Ian has to pee. He ducks behind the wall in the walkway to the parking structure and was gone for a while. Sarah and the guy who's name I don't remember are talking and hitting it off famously while we wait. I see Ian as he walks out from behind the wall and report to the troops that he is done.....but then he vanishes. Gone. He is just plain gone. OK. Logical, yet drunk Kat thinks he turned right instead of left and we need to go retrieve him. Have I mentioned I am wearing stilettos and my dogs are barking up a storm at this point? Sarah and the guy who's name I can't remember start to wonder off in the direction of NOTHING and I yell at them to come back, they are going the WRONG direction. Sarah calls Ian and, with all due respect, has NO sense of direction. I ask for the phone, and tell Ian to go look for a Staples center sign and stand beneath it. "Are we clear? You see the sign? You standing below it? OK, we will find you so stay put." In the meantime, Sarah demands the phone back, and then she and dumbass, who's name I cannot remember, begin wondering off again. They have NO clue, they are going the WRONG direction and I REALLY do not want to have to go the the four fucking points of the world to retrieve these fucking people. I yell, "THIS way. SARAH...THIS WAY!!!" and eventually get them to follow me, and we find Ian. So, this is where the details get somewhat hazy. We are happy we were reunited with Ian. We begin walking back to the car. Sarah is ripshit pissed because I yelled at her and will not drive back until I "calm down." Honestly, I was calm.....I was task orientated. I felt as if I had just corralled a bunch of wet cats. I said I didn't want to have this convo. I just wanted to get in the car and go home. Sarah said she wouldn't get in the car because she felt hostility from me. I was hostile alright, getting more so by the minute. I reiterated I did not want to argue, let's just get in the car and go. Things got more I said hazy. She said she wouldn't take me home and I should get a cab (fucking a grand in tix, I bought drinks, her friends were retards that couldn't stick together and now I am having to take a cab...hundred bucks you think?) FUCK THIS. She got some old guy to pull over in his little golf cart to call a taxi stating she wouldn't leave me there in good conscious without having a ride. Once again, FUCK THIS. I am not going to stand there waiting for you to have your Christian sensibilities met. I began walking, stating I didn't want, nor need, her charity. So. As fate would have it, I actually did need her Christian charity. No taxis anywhere. My Motorola Q...not working so much. I was stuck, in the middle of the fucking, no shit, ghetto........with a dead phone and a credit card. I got some parking lot attendant to pull out my phone rebooted and I was back in touch with civilization. Called two cab companies and neither answered. I sat on the stairs of the Staples center (this is a bad dream right?) thinking about what to do next. I am in the ghetto. There is NOBODY around. Seriously scary. No shit. I am pretty tough, but now I am beginning to freak out. I am a firm believer that there isn't any situation money can't get you out of....however....this one I am pretty much thinking that money isn't working...........I don't even have cash, I only have a credit card. At this point, a security guard asks me where I want to go and I tell him the Valley. He says if i buy him twenty bucks of gas he will take me there. I have no other options, I am cold..I have to pee. I have no cigs and my phone is dicey at best. Seemed like the best deal I had at the time. We go to his car in the parking structure....I have a BAAD feeling in my stomach about this. I got in the car, and no shit, made sure there was a door handle on the inside of the passenger seat (seen too many hitchhiker movies.) I began texting Sissy about my is the make and model of the car, the guy's name is Peter, we stopped at this gas station. Left the same message for Boy Gorgeous. I was scared. Really really scared. Peter took me home, I had NO idea where the fuck I was or how to get home. We took a bunch of off ramps to side streets which led to the different freeways we were going to.......from my perspective these were the roads he was going to rape me on and then chop me up on....I feel badly as Peter ended up being a really nice guy. He said at one point that he could sense I was afraid of the big black man. I told him I have no issues with big black men, it is more of a "I don't know you and I am in your car totally at your fucking mercy" that scared me. Lucky for me, I found a very nice guy to take me home. I got home and 1am......I am exhausted and relieved to be home intact. It could have very easily been different. So, the question remains, can I EVER speak to Sarah again? There is nothing one of my chick posse could say/do that would make me leave them behind. I would fireman carry a drunk and disorderly girl home. I will NEVER trust her again. She was hot for the guy who's name I cannot remember and she picked him over me. She left me in the ghetto, no joke, ghetto. How could I ever forgive that? Further, it is 1:55 am and she hasn't called to see if I made it home alive. I would never do that to another woman. Shame on her. To the Filthy and Gorgeous posse, don't tell her I am OK. Let her wonder. She should learn what true friendship is about.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Lucy with the football continues............

So, what do I do with this? I am so being strung along and I allow it. I like him, he knows it and JUST when I am on the brink of the BIG fuck you you fucking fuck I get this;

Skeptic (4/6/2007 3:34:38 PM): Had a pretty good week.
spankie (4/6/2007 3:34:48 PM): glad to hear that
Skeptic (4/6/2007 3:35:04 PM): Just kidding. Pervasive gloom and doom
Skeptic (4/6/2007 3:56:09 PM): The week flew by before I thought about the possibility of carving out time for a beer/dinner break. Next week if you're still tolerating me I can do it, maybe Tuesday or Thursday or even the weekend. I'm always at UCLA. These days I'm going home to sleep, shower and that's about it....

I told him ok. What is wrong with me? I really like the sorry bastard.

Friday, April 06, 2007

How Kat Finds Her "Grrrrrr!"

My mojo is gone right now and I am not looking forward to another night testing out that theory tonight. It is Sexual Chocolate's birthday and I am psyched to be going to Cha Cha Cha in Silverlake for dins and then Little Temple for (way too many) cocktails later. I love my friends, but what I don't love is coming up empty on a weekend night. I feel like Austin Powers when he lost his is honestly a tangible sensation. Seems like a lot of work to get all cute, dress up, hair, hike up my tits just for my friends. I would just rock some sweatpants and a pony tail if I thought I could get into the bar in Hollywood. I did put the "grrrrrr" in swinger, my name is Kat for God's sake! I just don't know where I left it. I need to find it again. Could be with my socks, or my lost car keys or stuck deep in my cavernous hole next to a moldy condom. I am a glass is half full kinda girl and I am going to put on a slutty top (I may need to bust out the leopard print, desperate times) and some skin tight True Religion jeans and some impossibly high heels and work it. Tonight, I am going to go out with a positive attitude and get back my "Grrrrrrr!!" I promise I will not behave baby!

Sunday, April 01, 2007

A girl can never have too many shoes, Boys! xoxoxo Betty