Hairspray, gel and Brazilians.
For those of you who emailed, no, I didn’t have any control with my hair whatsoever. None at all. In fact, I told the stylist before the shoot I want my hair done a certain way but they were adamant with their decision. Even if I know (after all these years of being self-obsessed and camwhoring) what looks right for me, who am I to question things? I stated my opinion, they listened to it, they want to give me a different look then so be it. I’m trying hard not to be a diva (because I’m not!! haha) if you know what I mean. At least that’s what I learned from watching American, Australian, British, Canadian even bloody Abyssinian bloody Next Top Model. So yeah, just cross your fingers and hope that THEIR pictures turn out to be alright because I know there’s a baby jesus crying somewhere as I’m writing this.
Click click click!
Anyway. Gawd. I’ve been up the entire day, I’m totally knackered. I went to this little photo shoot earlier but I wasn’t allowed to take photos of anything (or say anything) though I managed to take these photos of me when I was about to leave. No, that’s not the outfit I wore during the shoot and neither the first photo I posted earlier. Yes, that’s my off-duty outfit. BTW, I’m fat. I need to lose weight. A pleasure on the lips means 10 pounds on the hips my ass. I added 10 pounds on my FACE!
Pharmokan is that chu? Down syndrome barbie is that chu?
Everyone was fun and cool. The photographer shot me before. I even met someone who used to the go to the same damn school I went ages ago. Oh god the memories. Oh god the gossip. The shoot went alright other than the fact that there was NO airconditioning on the 11th floor of the huge-ass, corporate building. It’s funny how all these huge buildings turn off airconditioning after a certain time of the day. I don’t get it you know? I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve been to corporate buildings and they turn the airconditioning off at night. I think I was the sweatiest son of a bitch in that room – I had to stand in front of the fan ALL the time!
Forget the heat — you haven’t seen shit yet and the worst has yet to come.
After the shoot, I was going to call my driver to pick me up outside the building only to find out that my phone wasn’t inside my bag and I left the damn thing in the car. I asked one of the people in the studio/office to ring my driver but damn bitch got his cellphone off. In fact, both our phones were unreachable. Perhaps there wasn’t any signal where he parked? It was sooo embarassing. I was practically in tears because:
1) I was VERY late for a dinner thing at a friend’s place
2) I have absolutely no idea where my driver parked — in the building or somewhere else?
3) the sheer thought of me WALKING around in third world heat with my hair slicked back, clothes and huge, heavy bag on my arm is gruesome.
I don’t want anyone to worry about me so I left the place, went outside, lit a cigarette and tried to compose myself. It’s not as if this was the first time it happened so I made a plan: get a cab, roam around the block and try to find him.
And then I remembered there’s parking space at the basement of the building. I didn’t want to go there unless I’m 102% sure so I asked one of the security guards (who was sleeping at that time) where the parking area is. Minimum-waging blue collar peasant gave me attitude. Asshole barked at me that only building tenants could park in the building and I should go to some street (Valero) where people park. I was like "where’s Valero" and he told me he didn’t know.
What a douchebag! Whoever owns that building should FIRE that security guard for sleeping on the job and for being clueless.
Oh wait — it just occured to me that I actually know the family (well, two of the family members/ the most brilliant husband and wife team EVER lol) who used to own the huge bank (eeeew look at me social climb haha) that has that building’s namesake!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Whether or not they own the building is 100% none of my business. Hah!
On second thought, nah, I don’t want him to get fired because I was stupid to leave my phone in the car. The sleeping beast probably has a family to feed…
So yeah, I didn’t want to cause a stink so I went back inside the building. I spoke to the lobby guard and he told me to go to the back entrance.
Luckily I found my driver there. I’ve never been soo happy to see him!
I went to the dinner party alright albeit 2 hours late. Screw the food — I had a couple of martinis and the calorie content was enough. I skipped breakfast and lunch for this photo shoot… I’m soo fat now, even my aesthetician told me (the other day) that I gained so much weight.
I didn’t stay very long because some radio station in Germany wanted to interview me over the phone.
A few minutes down the road, I heard my stomach grumble.
And what do you know, McDonald’s Drive Thru is just around the corner!
The queue was long so I went inside because it’s faster.
While waiting, this group of Brazilians (I heard them speak Portugese of some sort) went behind me. Three Brazilian guys, a Brazilian girl and a Filipino creature that looks like a
pimp handler. You know those handler types — they look atrocious and they have this screaming synthetic face that says "oh wow look at me, I’m hot, I’m with foreigners".
I think the Brazilians are "models" — model hopefuls with no careers in Brazil so
they go to third world countries (on tourist visas and NO work permits) where anyone who isn’t brown can be a "model". Saucer of milk please.
One of the Brazilian guys went right BESIDE me to grab some softdrink straws, he stayed there with his back leaning against the counter and chatted to his mates. Boy he was loud.
Forget his voice.
The scent of his pits are louder than a rape victim screaming for help and man, he smelled so foul he pretty much knocked my sense of smell dead on the tracks.
He looks good alright but goood god have mercy on me, it was the longest 3 minutes of my life!
Don’t get me wrong — I love Brazilians. I really do. I think they’re a hot bunch but they were soo loud, soo noisy and one of them looks good but…
Serves me right for going to McDonald’s.
Whatevs. I need my once-a-month junk food fix. Last time I went to McDonald’s was last month. No quarter pounders for me this time around….
I went for the kill — I had large fries, large diet coke, and a big mac!
But why stop there when you can have McDonald’s fried chicken (minus rice), too?
Email me and tell me you love me! My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org.
I love you all!
And there you have it. I’m gonna go stick my fingers down the throat and purge, purge, purge.
How’s your day so far?