maintenance report

the girls at "kitson"

i bought into it for a minute. the whole idea of kitson as a store, a brand, a place of worship for some.

i worked there for a x-mas season and it was a nightmare. it was like being on america's top model.
i was there for 1 thing, the money. i could give a shit less about anything else going on there, the celebrity clientele, the sightings, the paparazzi, the high end real estate.

but i recently remembered something some skank that worked there (and still does) said to me as we oogled a very pregnant football trophy wife dallying about the store loading her basket with thousand dollar items.

i say "jesus, maybe if i freshen up and wear shorter skirts i can grab me a man who'll let me spend thousands of dollars on bullshit i don't need.."

she says "honey, its gonna take a lot more than that...."

BITCH.

can i put you on blast for a minute...you work at KITSON. Albeit popular, that is what US Weekly has rought, an overpriced emporioum of craptastic little chotchkes that won't mean shit when you can't pay rent.

Here Mr. Landlord, I have these great pair of True Religion jeans and a bedazzled cell phone cozy in place of my rent, you KNOW i'm good for it.

OK, that's ONE. TWO - it is NOT my goal to turn myself into some aerobicized bimbette in order to land a man who wants to keep me satiated, barefoot and pregnant while he globtrots around the world, crushing groupies.

and THREE, only in LA is it ok for some tired ass bitch from Laguna Beach to not fear of being dealt with by a broad from the Bay.

I swear to the lord.

hate.
hate.
hate.

VMA's

i am not blogcasting this POS.

i never thought i'd reach the age where the VMA's were no longer socially relevant, nor was it very important that I watched it from end to end, including the first hour of the replay thereafter.

gone are those off beat unscheduled moments like Co-Co Love busting in on Madge's interview, The Wayans Brothers able to bomb so bad that it leaves both the viewers and audience speechless.
Milli Vanilli pulling the wool over our eyes, and Eddie Murphy skipping across the stage while Cindi Lauper hollers in all her technicolor glory, ranting passionately about how girls just wanna have fun.

red hot chilli peppers, playing naked, Diddy and Sting, that was the moment that launched a thousand US Weekly's, Britney and her snake, Britney and her snap off suit, Britney and Madonna lock tongues and X-tina was there too y'all!

Diana Ross tapes Lil Kim's titty, its just another day in the life of Kim when that happens, Aerosmith and Run DMC rock out with Walk This Way, that was a match made in hip-hop rock heaven, Guns N Roses and Elton John duet on November Rain, (Eminem wishes it were his idea....) Lars Ulrich, proving he's just as big of a poseur when he's caught sleeping during the show, J.Lo irritated and newly married to her backup dancer pops Triump in the face, Eminem joins in for the hate, X-tina and Fred Durst going very far to prove IHOW, "he got. no nookie."

now we're just SO fascinated by celebrity, so jaded by the obvious commercialism of it all, that we can see the highlights and hi-jinks from a mile away. I no longer care to participate in this, I think I've reached the age limit for mediocrity.

Ok!

This is my only gripe

Bee- please, for the love of Michael Joe Jackson. LOOSEN UP. Must you attend every event like its a Jack and Jill cotillion. OVER IT.

In the meantime, I miss the core idea of that sad ass network. Bringing the latest music. That's all I want, hope, miss and desire, my MTV.

ask a crackhead

Dear Miss Fiend,

I'm in love with someone, this person knows my ins, my outs, my highs, my lows, the good and the bad. I call her my parentIts like they're my other half. But I feel like no one understands our LOVE. if i didn't have this job, well dopefiend, I don't know what else I'd do to find a love like this. Help!
signed,
dazed and concruised in los angeles

Dear fsdk3,

i caint understand what the hell you talkin bout but i do know thats one ugly azz heffa. wheh you fine her frum? dayum. lookit heah, im a crack head. alls i know is crack. if you tryn to get some words of encouragment you dun come to da wrong place. aight patna...but you aint got no friends..aint no way that woman love you. you just a little thang...plus she da one...whutchu need to be doin is analyzing yo self. ive deliberated to the conclusion that you are a homosexual with an anger problem. now.....

which way to the bafrum?

yours in cracky deliciousness cause you know its good,
anita loquashia hitt

when you care enough...

to send the very best...

this happened to me.

ATMs may be an easy target for thieves, a new report says lax bank security allows phishers to feast on 'white card' fraud.

don't you know BANK OF AMERICA, yes BANK OF AMERICA had the nerve to reject my first attempt of getting my money back? someone stole $1000 from my bank account and BOFA says it was probably someone I know. so not only would they not give me my money back (right away) but they made me paranoid (more than usual.)

You know what I say to that. BANK OF AMERICA, you think just cause you are called the BANK OF AMERICA, that is somehow supposed to make your customers feel better about everything. Like you can take care of the world like Allstate.

I love that it took me like 4 days and 20 calls and a threat to bomb you to get my money back. I guess I can be glad you haven't sent the Feds to my house. (yet.) I hate you.

q: so just what happens when...

all the suicide bombers bomb everyone in baghdad?

i'm a carrie.

i absofugginlutely love the show sex and the city.

i'm sorry, i dont care what people (read: men) think, but that show captures my outlook.

i rented the final season of satc last week and cried again. (i actually just start crying when Big runs into the hotel in Paris and sees her on the floor trying to pick up her diamonds that Aleksandr gave her.) It's cause she's pretty much devastated (though we know its mostly her undoing...) i am NOT a crier, but the thought of her not getting into it with Big again, not having Samantha make some snarky comment about her cooter, Charlotte turning her nose up at said comment or Miranda waxing pessimistic about the entire situation ever again broke my heart.

this show still entertains even though i've seen every single episode more than 10 times a piece, and its as soothing as a lozenge of the first day of strep, i will never, ever understand the approach, candor and tactics of the male species. they absolutely make no sense to me.

satc has pretty much given me somewhat of a homefield advantage on the subject. that subject being sex. my mom (bless her sweet heart) tried and failed miserably on the topic - and it took my dad until about eight months ago to realize I was a woman.

i know the show has been off the air for over a year now, but this is my version of cinematherapy: confused because a boy invites you to a party where his new girlfriend will be, and wants you to talk to her cause he thinks you'll really like her? mad cause some boy just won't get the hint that you are so not interested, feeling confident cause you are finally over him and are ready for the next? i can tell you which episode to watch to soothe what ails you.

say you like a boy who only likes to go downtown, and i'm not talking about the standard hotel. ok, i'd suggest you watch season 2, episode 3, the freak show. in it, charlotte somehow ends up dating a guy known throughout Gotham as "Mr. Pussy." where do they come up with it!

dealing with relationship issues and suddenly decide to make your fuck buddy, the "real thing", (and the one girl you know who was able to do it? is simply a mythical figure) its all about season 2, episode 26, entitled, "the fuck buddy".

attempting to have a friendship with someone you used to have a relationship with? try a dose of season 3, episode 46 "frenemies". watch the way it ends, doesn't this always happen? ugh.

and what about just trying to be yourself! without the razzle-dazzle of having a man by your side, what if you just want acceptance for being you, fun, free and fabulous, please watch my very, very favorite episide "the real me", season 4, episode 50.

i can do this all day, i feel like a sex and the city-ologist. this show filled a need that my parents, aunts and friends can't provide, (but they try) it speaks a language i understand and that is that being single, having freedom to explore, being fabulous and knowing how to break the mold and go out of bounds only to return to the safe confines of you, you can always strive to be a "carrie", but its good to just be (and fall in love with....) yourself. love follows.

so buying this.

dammit brad.

why oh why did you have to go there...just totally went there with it.

missus pitt, miss aniston is dishing to vanity fair and usa today picked up on it.

in the article she dispels some of the following notions that pitt was mad about the selfishness of his wife, for not having babies...(Her womb is so polluted, I can't even have a fucking little baby wit'er!) Scarface references aside, the media also claims he bitched she worked too much.

these two, no doubt beautiful people are seriously having narrative threadmaking problems. i feel so bad for her, despite the million dollar salaries, the dueling real estates in malibu, the battling box offices and the nauseating publicity that comes with it, i sincerely think that missus pitt, er...miss aniston is so very upset. how could you not be with everyone knowing your business. not only just knowing it but discussing it, wrangling over it, waking up in the middle of night for a glass of water and inadvertantly thinking "god, why brad, WHY!" well maybe that's just me, but STILL!

i can't wait for friday, it will i'm sure be the gd highlight of my day.

oh and there will be a follow up post. oh you bet there will.