Props I bring on Dates

In my 27 years I have been married 7 times each annulled. I have 16 step children most of whom are my nearest and dearest except for one little twat who refuses to like my photos on instagram.
I have 2 rule on Dates. Shut The Fuck up and Channel Your Inner Alice from Alice in Wonderland, not from Go Ask Alice. Tho I met that Alice and she has a phenom country home in Cote D'Azur. She did not die that was made up for book sales.

Props:
Wand
Hypnotizing necklace
bullets
knife
tattoo
body chain
magnifying glass
The Financial Times
Push Up Bra
Gold Fish
Euros
a Wig
a Top Hat
Veneers
Molly

Glitter Proust Questionnaire Part Deux

I never read unless its porn or the bible. However I do love the Proust Questionnaire on the back of Vanity Fair Magazine or as I like to call it Rich People who play Polo and Beat their Wives and Give to Save the Elephants

What is your idea of Perfect Happiness?

Fully Medicated at my step child's bat mitzvah at the Penninsula surrounded by One Direction

Which Living Person Do you Most Admire?

Sarah Palin; effortlessly flawless. On television for Public Policy Recommendations. Good mom.

Which trait do you most deplore in yourself?

My inability to orgasm with a poor person.

Which trait do you most deplore in others?

Excessive public displays of charity

What is your Greatest Extravagance:

My platinum handgun given to me by an underground terrorist in Morocco. He is also a wonderful poet.

What is your favorite Journey? The time my dad brought my Pony to Horace Man and we rode him to the Hamptons together. 

What is the most overrated virtue: Patience for Crack

On what occasion do you lie? When I am at customs. When I am on job interviews. When I am on dates. When I applied to Harvard Business School. When I am under a lie detector

What do you most dislike about your appearance? Vagina too tight for anything but diamonds and cocaine.

Which living person do you most despise? Julia Von Dutch. My arch nemesis from grade school. She tried to have sex with my father and steal my inheritance. In grade School.

What is your greatest regret? That I did not get involved in Rap earlier in my career and that I never ever recycle. 

 What do you consider your greatest achievement? My success in voo doo, a powerful black magick. 

Who is your favorite hero in fiction? Cruella Deville for unabashed self-care, effortlessly chic style, and distaste in common man. 

How would you like to die? Immortal. 

Hes Not Jewish, But he Has a House in Provence and a Maid who doesn't steal

Alas, its clear I am a trashy moronic self hating Jew with a drinking problem, dwindling trust fund and affinity for Xanax and the Opera (pre 1900).  It was a great time to be 20 in 1993. Everyone thought they were Kurt Cobain and played with their tamogatchi's and were not concerned that snorting cocaine in the bathroom would end up on the internet. Nothing but a G thang Dr. Dre. 

My  boyfriend at the time was a Waspy alcoholic descendant of Hitler who's mother played tennis and fucked the pool boy and who's father I had not met. I remember when I told my parents I was sleeping with a non Jew, they were both aghast. I found this amusing since I had only been to temple less than the amount of time's America had been to war with England. Your children will be confused. Jesus Christ did not die for any sin, they will feel less good about themselves. Heaven isn't real, they should be good people in the present not in the after life. Three words for my religiously retarded parents. Comme De fuck Down. 

And they did when Adolf invited us to his home in Provence. He told my father multiple times that he had nanny cams installed in every room since the third grade and she had not taken so much as a hairpin. Suddenly my parents seemed ok with an uncircumcised penis. Jews love a good stay in Provence with the tab open. 

A bientôt. 

Notes from the Underground Part 2:

The plane ride did not have turbulence which bothered me. I liked the way it felt against my Clit. I took out Cosmopolitan and began to read an article, titled, Anal Sex - not just for the Gays. My mom came over and saw what I was reading. She said that Jews shouldn't read porn. If God wanted us to read porn she said, it would have been in the torah. I tried to recall my torah portion. I remember asking the Rabbi if I could read from the Quaran, as this was during my rebellious phase two years ago. My mom bought a book called raising your rebellious teen, but only read the part about how to keep your kid away from sex. Well I guess she failed. 

The stewardess came over and asked If I wanted peanuts, Bianca Jagger just wanted a vodka Tonic, so I wanted the same. This was before stewards started penciling their eyebrows and were just fat and bored. I also wanted the peanuts. 

Those packets are just little packets of fat, my mom's cousin said. Fat and Fear. I need the protein I said, protein from nuts combined with cum makes for a very nutritious snack. 

We were on our way to Aspen to go skiing, a girls spa weekend trip. It sounded lame, but saying that out loud sounded ungrateful. More than that it sounded like there wouldn't be any boys but the upside of that would be giving a break to my disfigured Vagina. 

Notes From the Underground Upper East Side; Crime and No Punishment

Dear Diary,
I am 15 years old as of two weeks ago on the plane with my mom and my aunt and their cousin who I think is sexy. Their cousin is awkward, not like my mom and my aunt. It has been 15 days since Juan Poisson fingered me and he fingered me so hard he broke my hymen and it drew blood. I already had my period. I used the blood to make a painting that will one day sell for 600K at Sothebys and finance my poorly decorated Summer Home in St. Tropez.
I was convinced he seriously disfigured me though and I contemplated telling my mom and my aunt about the fingering to prove that I too was interesting. Better not I thought, I should never talk about anything negative because thats ungrateful, smile and just say yes except to drugs. Keep the nails trimmed and not painted unless they are french. No dirt. I have so much blood under my nails from picking. Im cutting again, but only in the shape of the H in Hermes. No toe nail paint, we arent from the Valley. Be strong, a light fairy independent woman, not too strong; thats lesbionic and masculine and Ill never meet a man to continue the lineage of narcissism and struggle. Be vulnerable but dont cry, because tears dont burn calories and when people smell tears they think you are poor.
Do cardio it lifts your ass. Be mindful. Say thank you, even when you dont mean it. Especially When you dont mean it.
After Juan Poisson fingered me I came, an orgasm and a wrecked vagina were too much for me to handle and I had the Odyssey Paper to finish. I sat at my computer on the plane, My mom's awkward cousin on my right and Bianca Jagger on my left, I tapped Bianca and said excuse me, I have to use the loo. She looked at me and didn't move but motioned for me to climb over her legs.
When I came back she asked me if I was ok, I told her I think I had an orgasm. Now she asked? No, last week, with a boy named Juan Poisson. She began digging through her purse and handed me a valium. No thanks I said, downers roon my creative spirit and make me crave donuts.
Juan Poisson had a big penis but I really liked his balls, they looked like big mushy trampolines. The penis didnt scare me like it did most girls. I thought they were cool and wanted to make sock poppets to conduct a charity party community theatre event to raise money for Dying Orphans in Cote D'Azur.

What do You think about When you are Pushing yourself to your limit

I tend to go to Soul Cycle more than I masturbate or google my dwindling trust fund. I was reading my boyfriend's email when he jokingly wrote that I could lose some cellulite around my vagina to one of his contemporary finance Bridge and Tunnel Douchbags making under 80K living in WestChester yet buying tables at One Oak Hash Tag you are a loser. I realized that yes, I had not been regularly vomiting and taking my phen phen eating dark leafy greens and going to pilatays as much as I should have.  There is nothing I love more than spending 1 dollar per minute in a dark room going nowhere next to people suffering from hating their therapists and where to go to Brunch. I whole heartedly and deeply understand as I too frequently voo doo my psychiatrist and can never know where to Brunch. Lines are too long and live in fear of no reservations.
My Soul Cycle Instructor Violetta, one of my nearest and dearest friends who used to suffer from a marijuana and vegan addiction is now reformed and eats meat and looks tight as a scrawny Horace Man PRe-schooler. White Hot.
She asked us all to push ourselves to our wildest Fantasy and to set our intention on what we want:
-That Versace was Still Alive
- That there was Vicodin in Vending Machines
- That Drug Dealers took credit cards
- That divorce attorneys would shove sharp metal items up their vagina
- That Taxi's looked less poor
- That people with student loans never talked about it.
- That concierge people at the Mandarin Oriental were representative of everyone in the world
- That my housekeeper would stop stealing my shit
- That my bipolar medications would stop making me get so fucked up

Martinis and Soft Core Porn on British Airways

British Airways has stopped showing porn because they believe its content is offensive to women. Au contraire, Porn teaches me where vital body parts of mine are. I thought until I was 25 years old that I peed out of my Clitoris until I saw Good Will Humping.

Alas, I roofied myself on the flight to London to meet up with my estranged British father who was taking me to dinner and the Lion King. I auditioned for the Lion King 13 times, 10 of which I was not cast but the 13th time the director felt sorry for me and cast me as the Hyena with Asbergers. One night Rafiki was ill, by my doing, so In an All about Eve fashion, I preformed the Circle of Life but missed the highest note; it was ok because I got drunk at the After party and had my first black girl on girl makeout with "Nala" who was 2nd runner up on America's Next Top Model. Some could say we both made it. 

These Boots were made for stalking

Eva Braun's grand-niece and I were doing coke in the Bathroom at the Russian Tea room off of Tiffany Mirrors. I think my boyfriend is going to propose to me, she said. That's too bad I said. Then who will I have to party with?

Can I get into Harvard Business School if I cant solve for X but am Proficient in Giving Head and Indian Foreign Policy?

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Top Jobs For Women who Don't like to work

Where do you see yourself in 5 years, the head of accounting at JP Morgan asked me, not because I worked there but because we were doing coke in the bathroom before my nail appointment. I could answer honestly because she was my friend. I either see myself dead, in rehab or in prison or maybe in the Maldives if the weather is nice and I haven't spent all my money on Xanax and porn. 

It comes down to a very simple principal. I do not like to work. I don't like excel except for charting if my enemies have a higher net worth than my father, I don't do email jargon as it sounds poor and phony, I would rather kill myself than sit in a meeting and talk about Quarter 4 growth. Working is Boring. We can all agree my time is much better spent bothering Orphans or drawing pretty pictures in arbitrary basement. 

So: the Lazy girls Guide to having a Career; You must do something to get out of the house because children are smaller angrier versions of ourselves on our worst day and as we learned from Casey Anthony, cannot simply drown them in the pool or leave them to rot in our mode of transportation. 

1. Nutritionist; ad on the internet

2. Texting Counselor - advise how to properly text your peers and peers of peers

3. Sex videographer 

4. Exercise motivator 

5. Instagram Designer for your personal account

6. Organizer of People's Bookshelves

7. Wing-woman 

8. Pencil Sharpener

9. Nail Polish chooser

10. Soul Cycle Teacher evaluator

11. Sober Coach

12. Playlist maker for Exercise, sex, road trips, sleep, and hanging out on the terrace. 

Liars- Thieves- PsychoPaths- Shoplifters -Mean Girls and Inside Traders #NobodyFresherThanMyClique

Unabashed honesty, self discovery, preservation, water and exercise sans drugs are for the birds. I prefer to roll with a cracked out crue of crème de la crème thieves who appreciate good restaurant recommendations and the complexities of the middle east.

Victim of Heinous Abuse

What's up bitches. As I blog in the Nude at the Harvard club I have come to a critical realization that I am a victim of acute abuse. I have to seek solace hiding from those who abuse me, wearing stolen Chanel Sunglasses that I seized during the 1989 power outage at Bergdorf Goodman, to hide my tears.
I have to say, like the shade of blue, I look great  in victim. Bad wife, Bad daughter, Bad sister, Bad employee Bad friend Bad Christian Bad witch. Here is why everyone is angry at me dot com.

My therapist: Asked me to journal my feelings when I feel like hitting my stepchildren. I instead drank half a bottle of vodka and made a collage and let them take a bath alone. They were happy, but apparently this is grounds for child service intervention. Luckily the Director of Child Services in Beverly Hills is one of my dearest and I had a threesome with her at the Penninsula whilst high on ephedrin and spray paint.

Bad girlfriend: Refuse to do anal unless on a jet with a Sultan or it is Yom Kippur.

Bad daughter: Only speak to my parents when need money for a lawyer from my 2nd, (third) DUI in South Hampton. Luckily, I lose 5 pounds everytime and always make great friends.

Bad sister: I suffer from Kylie Jenner syndrome and frequently get my lips done when my siblings make more money than I;I use their toothbrushes, I comment on their Facebook, and try to figure out how to make my third of everything larger.

Bad Employee: When I am not too strung out to go to work, I spend most of my days choosing an instagram filter, masturbating to my stock portfolio, and taking smoke breaks with the janitors. I use email for cybersex and frequently hack into corporate email.

Bad Friend: When one of my nearest and dearest broke up with her boyfriend I married her brother only to get an annulment for laughs. I stole on of my friend's engagement rings and replaced it with cubic zirconium and pawned the sapphire for a machine gun.

Bad Christian: I practice witchcraft and manifest Jesus Christ within me.

12 Tools for a Cracked Out Private Investigator from The Upper West Side

Alas, I most recently passed my Private Investigator exam; an exam just as difficult as my 8th grade civics test which I also cheated on. I siphoned money from Senator Clinton in order to obtain the necessary funds to fulfill my license What does it mean to be an investigator; 3 fold 1. I will have access to your social security number 2. I will have access to your bank statements 3. I am legally allowed to follow you everywhere; including the bathroom USC Section 8.23 Chapter 14.


Here are some tools that the greater Gods Aphrodite, James Bond, Sydney Bristow, and the ISIS intern ladies to tell me whats up.

1. A Goldman Sachs Jizz Stained Baccarat Magnifying Glass

2. A Bedazzled .45 caliber gun that was used to kill Versace

3. a time stamped video camera

4. a Wig

5. A fake passport with me in a doo rag

6. A prepaid cellphone from Nokia that still has SNAKE for when Im bored

7. laminated business cards to pass out at Fashionweek and the Sauna

8. a metro card for when I want to do drugs

9. fluency in Russian

10. driving skills beyond driving straight

11. a pony dyed powerblue to match my macbook and my eyes

12. experience strength and hope

A day in the life of the drug Lord Marlory Russell

While holiday-ing in Chilay (not Chile) I met with one of my dear friends and close personal idols Marlory Rossell, one of the most well known money launderers and drug lords of our time; she's chic shes classy has phenom restaurant recommendations and blow job tips. 

The last time I saw her was before she went to prison, and I told her I was crafting her memoir, but of course did not tell her that I was going to pay someone ugly to write it while I enjoy meandering around town talking about my book. 

ALas, Marls was raised like most of us, with a mean mummy and daddy who starved her for fun and made her go into show business. When she realized she could not sing or dance, she started to get high with her friends backstage. She quickly realized how good she was at selling drugs and fled her nawsty parents to begin an operation of her own. She out herself through college stripping and  selling meth and used her pathetic trust fund to build what she is best known for; her large anti laundering organization. In 1989, she successfully stole one penny out of every single bank account in the United States and the EU combined with her Native American Hacker Joseph who makes dynamite and is mute. 

I was invited to her headquarters; a large marble building off the coast of Guatamala. The office is all white plush marble ordained with sequins and glitter. There is a snack machine that serves tuna tartare and caviar and 16 different kinds of champagne. She encourages her staff to smoke and drink in the work place. She is also regularly armed and frequently shoots people who annoy her. 

But You Cheated On Me So I stole Your Identity and Accused you of Rape

It was a dark and twisted day when I questioned my relationship with God, since I thought I was God. But Hashtag real talk for a Nano, whilst it is my objective to become the millennium manifestation of Jesus Christ herself, I am all Kabballah and shit and recognize there is a God other than myself. God and I are cool, or so I thought; I have issues with the holocaust and people who wear flannel to the workplace, but overall we're Gucci 

After all, I have so much to be grateful for, great shoes that I inherited from my obese yet stylish aunt, a never ending xanax prescription and no gag reflex, a tool more vital than the quadratic Equation or any excel formula. 

Recently however I had my heart ripped at the seams and smashed into smithereens and began to question if there was a God at all. I did the only thing I knew- a liquidated the 500 dollar ring he bought me at my local pawn shop near the water's edge and traded it in for a machine gun; formerly owned by Marlory Russell, the largest drug trafficker in all of Latin America :D 

I then threw up all of my food, downed half a bottle of tow tier white wine and called his mother to tell him that his son raped her best friend and called his boss to say he watches porn at work. And even though I won second worst actress for 4 straight years at Horace Mann Academy; I would say my performance was solid gold. 

The day I found out he was cheating on me; I saw it on PerezHilton; ran to his house and stole his standard poodle and let him loose in Central Park. But Because I am gifted, at one with nature and have an eery connection to animals; Coco didn't leave my side so I figured I would keep him as my own. 

I then filed a restraining order; indicating that he surrender his firearms immediately. I had one of my gays dress up in all of his clothes and impersonate his hand gestures; as he repeatedly broke several glasses; poured honey all over them while threatening to kill me. The judge granted me the order and I still got to keep the dog. 

May Goals

Speak in Iambic Pantameter

Get the whole audience at the Metropolitan Opera to do a Sing a-Long, with Tosca

Have rapper DMX lick low fat cool whip off of my body at the Plaza

Get a Cocaine Anonymous person to start using again

Shoplift from the 5th floor at Bergdorfs and avoid all video cameras

Laminate my old mugshot from my DUI in the Hamptons

Befriend a terrorist

Send in my audition tape to real world Versailles.