My psychopharmacologist went to the Hamptons and I am out of adderal

Email:
Doctor@xanaxforRichgirls.com
Dear Glitter: I am on hold quite a while now with pharmacy, trying to call in the small supply. Since I would have to send pharmacist a written prescription to cover that supply, I will do so, adding to the envelope a second prescription to follow for a larger number of pills that pharmacy can fill upon receipt. However, pharmacy is still not picking up the line. If takes much longer, I will call back and leave message on doctors' voicemail, which you could ask pharmacist to check if script not ready upon your call/visit.  Next day of mail is Tues, but the voicemail if needed at least should get you the small supply. 

Excerpt from My Novel

The best thing about telling people you are writing a novel is that you become so busy telling everyone you are writing a novel that it never gets written. 

So as I stare At the blank page before you open up a dirty window and let the words illuminate the words that you can not find, I found them in Real Housewives Fashion in paying someone to do it. 

I joke (not really) but I came to a painstaking realization during my AA meeting that the trouble began when my Father landed Head TV writer for the critically Acclaimed program The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. 

It was awkward given his heavy racism and penchant for the East Coast and hatred for gang life, but he crafted a program that initiated the notion that Black people are rich too. 

I remember on set when Aunt Vivian was having another meltdown over Will Smith stealing the Spotlight, the crew member had to sedate her with Quayludes. I went over to her and said, I know how you feel, Its hard to let someone else shine when its clear that you are the star, but the show is the Fresh PRINCE of Bel Air. Not the Fresh Princess. 

She patted me on the head, but what I really wanted was for her to ask me if I wanted to play an extra. Carlton was also a douchebag but he spent most of his time off set practicing his lines and flirting with his sister Ashley, which explains the heavy incestual undertones displayed in WB programs in the late 80s and early 90s,.

Weekend Goals

Use Discretion
Get a restraining order against my boss
infiltrate an underground child porn website
get a pedicure
liquidate my assets into Euros
Steal My Stepmother's Birkin and blame it on the Goose
Text the president
remove the cocaine from my anus that I smuggled from Dubai
Enter into a Complex Pretentious Debate about whatever is on the cover of the Economist with my hamper.
Learn what arugala means
Record me singing Nicky Minaj over Tosca
Get off the Waitlist At the Soho House
Bedazzle my Fake passport
Finger myself to a 1983 Stock Portfolio

Truth Hurts

1. Everyone I meet has a little bit of stripes and dots of homosexuality
2. I have like 4 stalkers
3. I dont have that much money in comparison to the Rich Kids of Beverly Hills and the Blankfield's
4.  I buy my own Karma by doing charity work with Kids in the Bronx 
5. I should have been more properly acknowledged in the Bible 
6. I will only have an orgasm with an 100 dollar bill
7. it is a harsh reality concerning the dynamics of the inconsistency of loyalty by those you need the most
8. I havent not, not taken adderal since 2003
9. My best friend is the Janitor at JP Morgan
10. Hillary Clinton is serious possibility for our first female president, I would like to take this opportunity to nominate my boss, who reads this, love you. 

Soul Cycle and My new Therapist: Namaste on a Surfboard Sauteed in DMX

Lysander, Demetrius, Mantas.  Its a Midsummer's night Trip in the Soul Cycle Studio and have been Struck with Puck's magic wand in a spell mixed with love, diet pills, jizz, and prosecco. I am proud to call myself a Mantas Marine (Copyright 2014).

 

Alas, As I struggle with my manic asberger alcoholic bulimic disposition- sauteed in an over inflated ego and a delusional sense of grandiosity, I am brought down to reality by none other than Mantas 

 

As I looked at my Goldman Sachs cum stained Soul Cycle pants during a MoonLight Soul Cycle ride, I came to the painstaking realization that I was in the moment, not thinking about my plan to assassinate my ex-husband or my next insta pic.

 

Mantas Z.  has shown me that exercise is not just getting a hot body with hip bones sharp enough to cut Columbian  Blow- Mantas, the man from California has a Zen like Energy that is the perfect combination of Dawsons Creek meets DMX. His soul talk is so believable that even my jaded cracked out neurotic likeminded basic bitches agree that his class is better than your therapist- why? Because you burned off the tuna tartare and feel like you can take over the world next to Mitt Romney, not that you are even crazier than you thought.

 

His class, with his thick peanut bitter fudge ten turn hills physically rip you out of the seams of your comfort zone beyond the Soho House, the Drug Dealers Car, and the Office of the Divorce Attorney, the zone  beyond basic mediocre mimosas, and 2 am texts, and  into a realm  that unleashes one's realization that the choice is yours to live an extraordinary life. One that is a little deeper, more profound, and perhaps, even a little fun. But dont tell anyone. 

 

Mantas is the hottest, richest, loveliest most spiritually enlightened individual I have ever had the pleasure of trying to fuck. His class is the best Night at One Oak meets the Day Spa at the St. Regis with a remix Of the Park Avenue Church of our Heavenly Rest.

 

His class is a manifestation of what soul cycle is about, cum stained glittery soul cycle gear, your delusional reality of spinning in a dark room going to Nowhere to Tupac, and the love and respect you grow to have for yourself. I salute you. See you on a Bike.

Kleptomaniac Alcoholic Prostitute with 3 New Passports; Its possible Rodgers and Hammerstein

Alas, as I walked on down the road home from a long Saturday evening of expensive drinks that I roofied, I made the painstaking realization that the clutch conversations of ones holiday from Juans Le Pins to who was bad in bed, e.g couldnt finger to an orgasm, or dry humped like a jack rabbit, et cetera ad naseum, that I couldnt wait to go home and slit my wrists and watch porn.

I knew that these poor sexual habits of the current state of the alcoholic post millenial Wall Street men, was a significant problem, but one that I will not address in this forum, because as long as my children's private school is paid for and I can fly teterboro with my Ocelot, you can be bad at sex all day long.

As I walked down Rodeo Drive, Rodgers and Hammerstein Cinderella Soundtrack blasting in my ears, I reflected on the weekend as I felt the drip of the cocaine pour down my throat and wasn't sorry that I stole the rest and ran out on the check, A new habit that gave me a rush, like a cold shower in the middle of a Sunday.
It wasnt that I was so much into cocaine the drug, I preferred the chase and and the organization of materializing the dealer, after all, he was one my my best friends, and I looked forward to our chats about his music career and his  girlfriend who was iCarly.

I met a Neo Nazi Arian Youth Waspy Jew on the Street who told me I was pretty when I looked like a mess. It was out of a Taylor Swift music Video sauteed in the backdrop of Jagged Edge Where the Party at.
I am not much of a Slut, because of my Asbergers, but he had a Rolex and asked me if I was Jewish. I told him that I was very spiritual which I read in Glamour Magazine was the right thing to say and that I feel connected to the Universe on a profound level.
He was staying at The Beverly Hills Hotel and I asked him if he Had a scrabble board and could make me a French 75.
He said he did and we walked hand in hand, and I slightly fingered the rolex, and he was dumb enough to think that I was flirting. I only flirt with my dad.
We went back to his Suite and I noticed that he had three passports, which I didnt find creepy because so did I.  I pretended not to notice and went he went to the bathroom I took photos of them to Instagram as my own.
He came out and I took the lead in Jazzy, 75 points. He then broke out into a sweat and I thought he was going to hit me which would have been hot and also disturbing.
I also excused myself to call room service so that I could order a pair of scissors to fix my vagina in case he saw up my skirt.
While I chopped away, I rifled through his medicine cabinet, took 4 twenties. And left.
Today was a fairytale.

Harvard Freshman Roommates Meet

Nadine: So a New York City Girl, you must hate Gossip Girl.

Taylor:  Haha, I don't hate it as much. I dont  And actually Chase Crawford is a good friend of mine. I mean not exactly friend, but I met him once and he told me I was pretty. But what was most accurate about the show is the delusional parents and Blair's Bulimia. O and definitely how awkward it is to live in Brooklyn.

Nadine: I didn't really hear anything you said except bulimia and that you fucked Chace Crawford, who is a faggot. And also Dont people get murdered in Brooklyn?

Taylor: I dont know, I only went to Williamsburg and I was Ex. I was with my then Boyfriend, Simon.

Nadine; Why then boyfriend and not ex boyfriend? Do you guy still Fuck?

Taylor: What? No, I broke up with Simon because his parents divorce made him super manic depressive and not fun, and its like, its not Rwanda, you still have running and water and are not addicted to Meth. Life could be worse. 

Nadine: He sounds like a whiny little bitch with Mommy issues and will ultimately beat you. You did yourself a favor. 

Taylor: I understand the divorced parents trauma, I mean, mine are going thru it right now, and to tell you the truth, I'm concerned about what a red flag it is, you know, I mean I would like to meet my husband here and I dont want him to think that I came from this Broken Fucked up Horror House, even though I did. 

Nadine: Everyone's got a story kid, My Father's in Jail and my mother' s in a Mental Institution, for her schizophrenia, but at least shes skinny, so Im not too worried you know? 

Taylor: Arent you concerned that men will find you undatable given this trajectory of your past?

Nadine: No. And I dont exactly lead with that, but you asked, which makes you the Freak and I think it adds an element of mystery and Glamour to my story, not to mention the fact that I am such a well adjusted sane individual. Where there's money there's drama, so anyone who tells you its perfect, you should steal their happy pills and run for the hills.

She proceeds to poor a martini and crush up her xanax and pour it in. 

Taylor: Mixing medications with alcohol at 11:00 AM, how do you not pass out?

Nadine: How do you deal with life Sober, Taylor? I have yet to experience anyone do so successfully. Although, Ive heard that our third roommate is bible thumping Alexa Bulgari, the Senator's daughter. I hope he can get us Tickets to Jay Z in Boston. HOVA, YONCE? Am I right?

Taylor: Maybe, but its the Senator of Nashville, and I dont know if they like Black people.  May I ask why your father is in Jail?

Nadine: Murder

Taylor: What?

Nadine: No I joke, he had sex with several Russian prostitutes at the Polo Lounge, who ended up being traffic slaves and were 16, he thought they were 21. But he is in the same Bunk as Bernie Madeoff so they talk shop and do push ups. Hes one of my best friends actually.

Taylor: Your Father? Mine too.

Nadine: No Madeoff! Are you sure you got into Harvard?

Nazi Cocaine Excerpt

D'accord, My freshman year at Harvard started the beginning of the next chapter which was discomforting considering the previous chapters before had been ensconsed with a multitude of misery and sheer self loathing. I got into Harvard on the pretense that I had suffered the trauma of a stalker, and had two restraining orders against him, which led me to the philanthropic endeavor of opening up a group for other young attractive wealthy women in New York who were also the victims of stalkers. We would meet once a week at the St. Regis to discuss the progress of our cases and who had a creepier man. I always lost. After about six weeks of these meetings, I soon lost interest, but according to my resume, kept these up as religiously as my Soul Cycle classes and remain close friends, especially with the woman who's stalker taped her giving Birth at Mt. Sinai.

I lived with three other women in a suite at Harvard and shared a room with Nadine Nathanson, a wealthy sociopath from Beverly Hills a force to be reckoned with.
 When I met her she was glueing pearls to the walls of her side of the room and smoking a cigarette with the other hand. She was wearing a Shirt that said I put the "Hot in Psychotic" and black leather pants with 6 inch pointy black heels. "I hope you dont mind" she said, but last summer on my trip to Fiji I collected 16 thousand pearls from oysters on the beach. No, literally, I pried the oysters open and took the pearls out so that I could decorate my room as such. Isnt it clutch?
I had to admit it looked really divine, but I was minorly disturbed by the chain-smoking. I was always jealous of smokers, they had the ultimate accessory to express frusturation and annoyance with a hidden sophisticated European undertone. My mother had told me I looked like a stupid American so I ceased the habit, like masturbation, as I assume I looked like a stupid American doing this as well. And I was even further certain that I wasnt doing it right, and from the looks of the careful methodology to which Nadine was gluing the pearls to her side of the wall, gave me the inclination that she may be be able to provide some guidance.
I didn't have anything to decorate my side of the room with,
"A room is a reflection of your personality, and judging from your klonopin and lexapro, something tells me that there's a lot going on in that highlighted faux blonde head of yours"  I liked her crassness already, but she was right, I did not bring any posters, or pictures, my bedspread was a silver bedspread that I purchased at Target that felt luxurious but didnt require a lot of effort. And I only went to Target because it was near my drug dealer who was providing me with percocets due to a tennis injury and overall disgust with society. He liked to meet in the McDonalds in Harlem, where my Grandparent's hotel used to be. I was going to miss him, and I wondered if it would be worthwhile to pay for a ticket to Amtrak for him to come here.
 Fear not Nadine said, I am an artist, I will make you a great poster, I will not have a boring roommates side, how will that look when I bring Professor's back to our room to fuck me, and if you're lucky, to fuck us?

My Stalker- My Soul Mate

Between Lysander, Demetrius, and Chuck Bass, the 21 century Millenium Pretentious Basic Bitch has choices a plenty, in this Midsummer Night's Trip.

Alas, this particular story began where all the best ones do, in a Cemetery just off of Further Lane in East Hampton with a bottle of vodka and rampant teenage erotic flashes. The year was 2002 and I was 16 and was drinking with my then boyfriend, who was giving me the tried and true just the tip speech.
Having been raped by A Sultan and by my uncle in 1999, I suffered an internal dilemma, It wasnt technically rape because I liked it, but I had also made clear to my then boyfriend that I was a virgin and I wanted to wait until I knew he loved me or till I received a diamond sharp enough to slit my wrists with.
And so, whilst we were laughing and dry humping at the grave site of the late Grace Von Vortenson, a 70s East Hamptons Socialite who drowned herself in the pool when she learned that her husband had gambled away his fortune in Las Vegas, it struck me that this was the critical moment between childhood and womanhood that Britney had referenced. All I need is time.

Things were good then, we were normal, we thought we were happy, of course we both suffered from manic depressive early onset alcoholism, we found solace in each other, and I am not sure why. It was young love, and I wasnt nearly as financially soaked as I am today but he came from a family of cotillion's and non pretentious art, photography of Safari's.

Alas, in the glimpse of the background we heard a man muttering to himself that Reagan's assassination had been plotted and was a much larger conspiracy against the US government. I perked up when I heard Reagan and foolishly entertained a conversation with this old man who hadnt bathed since his presidency, that the assassination was simply a poorly misconstrued chain of events that was not properly thwarted by his secret service.

The man was amused and my then-boyfriend, cautiously tried to steer me away. And was successful, only at steering me away, not about losing his virginity, I played that game that I had a headache and was freaked out by that old man.

The old man started following me repeatedly and showed up at my coffee shop, my beach club, and my  therapist appointments, until I finally had to obtain a restraining order which prohibited both of us from owning guns which really pissed me off. He then violated the order subjecting him to his arrest. I still correspond with him in prison via email through the East Hampton Prison website. It bothers me that the guards have access to our letters, but I mostly just write to check in the hopes that he does not forget about me and that we can continue our conservative political banter.
As Kevin Bacon once said, when the stalker leaves, its a sign from the Universe of your irrelevance.

Woody Allen Psychics and the Cote D'Azur - Does Magic Exist Only with a Trust Fund

Woody Allen fully exposed the Daddy Daughter Elektra Complex issue and took it to a grandiose level that not even I am sure I am capable of.

As I sat in the Carlyle listening to his smooth jazz whilst I was wearing leather, smoking a cigar and contemplated suicide, I couldnt' stop wondering who touched who first, re his daughter slash wife. 

And so it is with critical observance that I observe his film while instagramming and praising myself on my choice in the  artistic pursuit of a visit to the cinema with my likeminded Indian boderline Royal friends with a penchant for scotch and debauchery.

I realized that I should not avoid art based on the artists own personal life questionable moral choices. After all, Ben Affleck publicly endorses Obama, R.Kelly pees on little girls, and Amanda Bynes stays in low tier Midtown Hotels to sport poorly designed wigs that scream I just got fucked in the tush and then thew her bong out the window wasting perfectly good Kush- This sounds like a problem for her previous childhood role on All That -Dear Ashley, Dear Ashley How did I go from a Disney Sweetheart to a Washed up Psychopath?

I disgress

Despite these individual's questionable albeit amusing personal pastimes and life choices that I would myself not indulge in, except for the Pee,  that does not prevent me from enjoying slash masturbating to their craft. 

So Here is what was phenom about Magic in the Moonlight, 

it took place on the Cote D'Azur de Klonopin and had a plot line replete with a questionable Anorexic Psychic with a charming disposition who enjoyed talking to dead old men and was never without her stagemother. In addition there were heavy nods to the most pretentious of Literary philosophers from Kierkgaard to Dickens, which naturally made me Soaked. 

Here is what Was Bad: There was no tasteful nudity, no scenes at a rave, and dialog that was pedantic, slow and border lined on Shakespeare in the Park annoyance. 

Additionally, the leading Man Colin Firth, is less Fuckable than Abraham Lincoln, and the fact that he has been in the pictures with both Amanda Bynes and Emma Stone left me distracted as to which blow job he preferred at the after Cast Party at the Polo Lounge. 

Woody Allen, while I personally find it a chic lifestyle choice to keep it in the family, I know most of society deems it despicable, but the most despicable people tell the greatest stories, in the prettiest costumes, sauteed in a chic German Throwback pre third Reich and leave us with the Vital Question, Does Magic Exist only with a Trust Fund?

Boxing For Domestic Violence

I love statistics. Because, you can dream them up out of the confines of your imagination. I especially am amused by statistics about crimes.
Per Exemplay
40% of all Drug Dealers listen to Taylor Swift (first album) when they are making their deliveries.

I, like you, only care about crimes that involve drunkenly beating women with Rolexes and misuse of Guns on political figures.

I am desperate to a be a published Author, a world renowned writer in a respectful psycho science based Field like Economics or French Film Noir, solely for the purpose of telling everyone how accomplished I am.

What do I like? Drugs and Wealthy Women.
What Can I Study? When their Husbands hit them.

And so, after careful analysis of a sample study of abused women that have taken place in Beverly Hills, New York City, Juan Les Pins, St. Tropez, Istanbul, Sao Paolo, Tulum,  Reykjavik, and Stars Hollow, it appears that one in four women are abused by guns or personal weapons, i.e fists(i)

(i) August 2, 2014, A Study in Affluent Violent Crimes, " Chapter 2: Investment Bankers have little Upper Body Strength when abusing their Wives" 

Ipso Facto.  I have decided to do what my likeminded delusional deranged whores with a penchant for self destruction do.
Throw a meaningless cocktail Party with a festive theme, good lighting, and marble floored bathroom with a West African Bathroom Attendant with an accent reminiscent of your first Nanny/Mother.

The amount of money raised for the event either breaks even or comes just under the cost of the catered food and tipping of the hot Ethiopian Barstaff. 

This will be held at the Church Street Boxing House in Tribeca where the attire is LuluLemon By Givenchy By Target. Myself and the ladies will fight with the 1970's box champion Puerto Rican Moises Cherman to raise money for the Domestically abused. 

Mama Said Knock You Out. Be Sure to Bring Your Instagram Filters prepared. LL Cool J is the Star Guest. 

Darling you look Absolutely Retarded: Highly Renowned Ladies, who have their Own Basic ShortComings

It struck me odd one day whilst I was walking down the PCH on my usual route from Venice Beach to Beverly Hills to meet some of my coked out sorority sisters for Brunch at Villa Blanca, (Its 4 Kilometers if you were curious and is a great way to exercise and meet people who do meth) that I am completely the opposite of a lady.
 I dont wear tampons unless my nanny inserts it, I talk loudly about money and politics, I use racial slurs, and find child molestation a worthwhile internet investment.

A lady as I understand, is demure, pure, kind, has compelling hobbies such as gardening and French noire avant garde de slit my wrist films and long cigarette holders replete with smiles and pleasantries, niceties and normalcies, 

Ladies, are, Dare I say,  the banes and manes of my palomino existence - I couldnt help but fart and wonder, Can I be a lady and not be Basic?

I honed in on my imperfect craft of Investigative Research that is illegal in the United States, armed myself with my trusty cum stained Baccarat Magnifying glass and sought out a few of greatest ladies of our time. With a little Magic, a little Salad Nicoise mixed in with Ephedra and expired accutane. I set to work. 

Alas,
To my alcoholic neurotic slutty well educated -vulgar -top shelf drinking -Ritz Resting- St Barthes Hopping Readers .

Here are some of the Greatest Ladies of our time, those who exude, Elegance, Sophistication, Prestige, and most importantly marry well, stay obscenely wealthy, and have never been photographed with cum on their face. 

1. Princess Grace Kelly Of Monaco where Taxes are not included 

Basic: West Philidelphia Born and Raised, low tier modeling career, terrible singer

Not Basic: died in a car accident, Slept with her Director to which led her first Major Film Role, thus setting the tone for wealthy social climbing billionaire wanna be actresses, went from Civilian to Princess. 

2. Audrey Hepburn - AnorexicOscar Winning Givenchy at Tiffany's 

Basic: took a plethora of photographs with poor people, was in Breakfast at Tiffany's- arguably the most boring film aside from 12 years a Slave in 20th Century Cinematography.

Not Basic: Got Plastered Everynight on the Set of Gigi and nearly rooned Michael Evans marriage, is Fluent in five languages non of which are Asian, her father was a close confidante of Hitler.

3. Nancy Reagan- The Phenom First Lady Republican Glamour 

Basic: Started the Just Say No To Drugs Campaign- I assume she meant this catchphrase applied to neighborhoods where there are no Financial Times subscription deliveries,
 Had an acting career that did not involve nudity,

Not Basic: made critical use of an Astrologer to thwart further assassination attempts on Ronald,
Spoke publicly about hating her children,
Frequently Jammed to sultry edgy tunes in b flat when the Soviet Delegation came to the WhiteHouse.

4. Princess Diana

Basic:  Violent Bulimic, failed ballerina, only fluent in English, was never Queen or on a Coin, appeared to be a good Mum. 

Not Basic: Killed by a papparazzi motorcyclists -spiking a conspiracy theory that rivals 911,
cites the Pope as one of her nearest and dearest,
Rescued 16 attractive Pakistani Orphans in a SWAT US ARMY plane during a Hurricane and only one died. 

5.Maya Angelou, For Diversity, For Strength, and an Homage, for it was I know Why the Caged Bird Sings that developed my Role Play Raped by An Investment Banker at The GeorgeSanc fantasy:

Basic:  Voted for Obama,
 Was Part of plethora of Black women writing groups,
frequently talks about God. 

Not Basic: 
Her mother was a nutritionist for the navy and then her boyfriend who raped Maya was murdered,
She was the first black woman streetcar conductor before she Got famous and realized transportation sans planes was stupid. 

August Goals When I met you in the summer

Bedazzle my AK-47 with low tier emeralds from the United Arab Emirates

Smuggle Cocaine in my vagina through the Mexican Border

Vote twice using myself and my alias for the 2016 Presidential Campaign

Pour Vodka down the mailshoot at the St. Regis

Refuse to poop

Cover someone's shift at Mcdonalds and use the money to pay conEd

Go Shopping with the Pope

Survive on only purple foods and accutane