Dear Ryan Seacrest,

Dear Ryan Seacrest,
I need my own tv show. It's not so much a want, more a need. For both of us.
A bit about me: I am a typical 9 to 5'er (correction 9 to 6'er, that whole "9 to 5 bit" is a major falsity, I'll write to whoever started that lie later), who feels my talents would be better served in front of the camera of my own half hour (could be an hour if the editing was done right) television show. I am willing to do almost anything on my show (well except maybe bite the head off of a pigeon a la Ozzy Osbourne, but definitely don a unitard and walk the streets of Los Angeles with a midget a la Chelsea Handler - I love love love miniatures, but that's a separate letter). I am also great with people and can chase them down in 5 inch heels if necessary (don't ask). I think alcohol is 50% of the food pyramid and carbs should be the other 50. I used to be so ugly I had to sneak up on water to get a drink. I have a dating history that rivals "Another World" (RIP). I can also have an entire conversation with an answering machine or any other inanimate object.

Call me.


P.S: I don't eat meat.


Friday, December 30, 2011

The Bastards that Become Boyfriends

The other day I was talking to a friend of mine about NYC. She asked me how I could have ever left.  I told her that I'd had a relationship that took a lot out of me and I just needed some distance from the city.

Then we started talking about relationships. She informed me it was pretty upsetting when she found out her boyfriend was gay. I told her it was upsetting when I found out my boyfriend was married.

She goes "ohh wow. I see why you left New York now".

Umm, no that was a DIFFERENT boyfriend.

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