This is a pic of my favorite ornament, Isn't it lovely?
"Do you hear what I hear?" yup. the muffled sound of Santas cries for help. *sigh* God bless us everyone!
The following is another excerpt from my book "Life is a Cabaret of Chum- a Memoir"
You're welcome.
I tried sleeping. God knows I tried everything to slide into the arms of Morpheus, warm milk, a handful of dolls, masturbation, warm milk with a fifth of Jack Daniels added, but nothing worked. My parents used to put us to sleep by tossing us in the air. (Of course, you have to have low ceilings for this method to work)
So a few moments later I was up and sitting on the small french chair in front of the writing desk at the George V, I rolled the sleek Cartier pen between my fingers, thinking about everything the psychic had told me. Had I really been a rather portly and unattractive vendeuse at Balenciaga in a past life? If so this changed everything, so after a long period of soul searching, I put pen to paper:
"You know, Kitty, all I do is love you. But is that good enough for you? No, you have to look at celebrities in magazines and ask, "Why can't I look like that?" Well, I'm not here to boost your ego, I'm here to have a life with you. SO STOP FISHING FOR COMPLIMENTS. I'm tired of you pretending like you're not standing there with your cute little round face and pudgy legs. And what would I want with a fucking attention whore like that anyway? Sure, I was looking, anyone would look. But seriously, Kitty, it seems you're always making a scene. I think you secretly crave the drama and chaos. You know what? Don't call me any more." I turned back to the letter one more time, wiping a single tear running down my face and wrote "Goodbye Kitty..."
So a few moments later I was up and sitting on the small french chair in front of the writing desk at the George V, I rolled the sleek Cartier pen between my fingers, thinking about everything the psychic had told me. Had I really been a rather portly and unattractive vendeuse at Balenciaga in a past life? If so this changed everything, so after a long period of soul searching, I put pen to paper:
"You know, Kitty, all I do is love you. But is that good enough for you? No, you have to look at celebrities in magazines and ask, "Why can't I look like that?" Well, I'm not here to boost your ego, I'm here to have a life with you. SO STOP FISHING FOR COMPLIMENTS. I'm tired of you pretending like you're not standing there with your cute little round face and pudgy legs. And what would I want with a fucking attention whore like that anyway? Sure, I was looking, anyone would look. But seriously, Kitty, it seems you're always making a scene. I think you secretly crave the drama and chaos. You know what? Don't call me any more." I turned back to the letter one more time, wiping a single tear running down my face and wrote "Goodbye Kitty..."
Happy merry whatever..
Soviet Xmas!
2 oz vodka
1/4 oz Baja Rosa® strawberry cream liqueur
1/2 oz Malibu® coconut rum
fruit punch
Pour vodka, baja rosa and Malibu into a whiskey sour glass. Stir, top with fruit punch, and serve.
Pour vodka, baja rosa and Malibu into a whiskey sour glass. Stir, top with fruit punch, and serve.
Here is a vid sent to all of us, with love, from your friends at Westboro Baptist Church.
Yes Virginia, Monsters are real. Be very afraid.
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