Thoughts?

When the weave is busted, she shant be trusted.
Lohan's going to jail.

Last jail story...promise.

So I got recognized while I was in jail of all places. I think it happens about once a day that someone actually says something to me but I see eyes darting all the time so it could be more...or maybe it's just the fact that my hair looks like I brushed it with a dick and I don't shave.

But yea...in jail. Someone clocked me from nip/tuck. But they called me Peaches. My name was not Peaches on the show but I was gracious and said thank you.

It's a shame they didn't allow me to bring any of my promotional stickers to hand out. It's a great promotion tood. They're scented too (they smell like stickers).

Gone to 'lantic City

Do not pass Go.

Do not collect $200 (my bail was $20K fyi)

Do not let your dog eat your getting-outta-jail present.


It's a piece of driftwood surrounded by 3 carats of diamonds on chunky chain. It covers up the remaining handcuff scuffs well.

And see...the next time it gets all Tyson/Holyfield up in my house, you can be sure I'll get all hood-rat and ask my girl to hold my jewelry.

(or I just won't fight anymore...blah blah lesson blah bling bling blah.)

She needs a hero...and possibly hip replacement.

The first 30 seconds suck...but 00:31-00:33 will more than make up for it.


I don't use the word fierce a lot people. I save it for special occasions; MLK Day, Easter, etc...

But c'mon. Admit it. All togeth now

FIERCE! I even made Blanca, my housekeeper, sit down and watch it. "oh my gad. Her chi-chi is going to hurt." I told her it was a drag queen (and she's used to seeing me) and she just said "sooo prett-ee." I love Blanca.

p.s. little insight to my habits...saw this on two people's blogs I frequent Joe.My.God and Dave, who whenever I see I just say "oh, the bears" 'cause I'm an asshole about names. Thanks guys.

***update-youtube took it down and then it got reposted here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PWEbL133hP8

Countdown to Lockdown

So in jail, a person has certain rights. Such as free abortions (remember- I was stuck on the women/tranny/fag side). After 18 hours in the clink, I was considering it just to feel the touch of a man and summer’s warm breezes again. Just kidding. I’m keeping my baby.

Games, reading material, writing material and postage is supposed to be supplied. After banging my knee against the door for a half hour, I got a guard to come down and I requested writing stuff. She comes back 20 minutes later with A PIECE of paper. I thanked her and asked about a pencil.

“We don’t have no pencils” was her reply.

“Can I have a pen?” I asked.

“Contraband” was her last word as she slammed the door. Forbidding pens makes sense I guess because with enough time on your hand, you could totally fashion an archaic hypodermic needle or cute little shank. But what the fuck was I supposed to do with one piece of paper? Origami?

So I sat down and tried to channel all those brave souls who went before me. Paris, Martha, L’il Kim…what would they do? Then I realized I had something they didn’t.
Try as they might, the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Office couldn’t take away all my toys.

Yup…you know where this is going. Buhr-chick a wowow. Jerking off put me right to sleep and it wasn’t that uncomfortable. When I arrived, I decided to take the bottom left bunk out of 4. But the chi in the room was total shit and my feet were facing the door which is like soo bad in feng shui matters. So I reorganized a bit. I took 2 other mattresses, stacked one and folded the other on top of mine- instant chaise! Very prison princess & the pea. I of course was woken and a fear of tazering instantly set upon me for my decorating madness.

But I was actually being released. So I’m filling out the papers and what do I see over yonder on the bitch guard’s desk? PENCILS! Since I’m already out and figure they won’t put me back in, I say “Look at all the pencils…You just make an Office Depot run?”

She didn’t even fuckin’ answer. She just kept printing me out (1 hand done on entrance & 1 on release in ink; electronic scan @ booking too). Then I get my property back.

She starts handing it out, just like in Who’s That Girl. As soon as she hands me my rubberband I throw my hair up in a ponytail. I guess at this point she decides I’m worthy of smalltalk ‘cause she asks me “Is your hair naturally curly?”

I looked straight at her and said “Are you naturally a bitch?”

She laughed like she had something evil planned but at that point she couldn’t do shit. I wanted to treat her the way she had treated me. I was polite and showed kindness and she didn’t return it. So we she was nicenot-bitchy, I was cunt-agious back to her. But freedom was mine.

All in all though, jail has been rejuvenating and inspiring. It’s like a day spa only with bail and no lemon water. My first day out, I went to Happy Nails. My feet were so nasty after being all Britney Barefoot for 18 hours on dirty cement. That’s the lesson I learned kids. Jail is not cute for your feet or your long term podriatric health. Crime ain't worth it. Petty crime will fuck up your pedicure.

Back the the big house...

So back to jail.

The reason they took me and not the DBF (Drunken Boyfriend) was when he called 911, he slurred on about a knife and they thought he was cut (I read it off the dispatch computer in the cop car too). He was so drunk he told them the wrong address twice if that tells you his state of mind. So about 30 minutes after the cops get there, the Sergeant comes over to the car and tells me DBF said no was hit and if I wanted to, I could change my story.

Hell to the naw.

I manned up and yelled at DBF not to punk out. He knows he swung first and I was defending myself (6'6"/220 vs. 5'10"/150). I realized later, even through his drunken stupor, he was trying to keep me out of jail. He is a lawyer after all.

So I get to jail and they're all ready to release me after a quick booking for the misdemeanor "battery on a cohabitant." But then they find a warrant from a traffic violation that DBF promised he would get cleared up with his best friend, a traffic court judge. That obviously never happened. Don't trust your lawyer. Mine has obviously screwed me and fucked me.

So I got my shoes taken away, my piercings removed, and my hair tie.

Spent the night in a cold, cold women's cell. Yes. Women's. All the gay dudes, women and trannies go in the same side. When I was out making a phone call the next day, I saw a hot-assed, dude with a shaved head walk by all shirtless. Unfortch, the guard was not amenable to the idea of a cell switch to accomdate my potential lock up lover. Totally sucked too 'cause I was all ready to jumped in by the Aryan's and stuff. I woulda even done a little liquid liner teardrop. Skinhead probably sensed I was needy.

But back to the cell for lunch.
They give me a carton of frozen orange juice, a granny smith apple, peanut butter, bread and a pack of grape jelly. Let's break this down:

1. I'm lactose intolerant. 86 that milk.
2. Granny Smith apples are only good for baking. Doesn't the sheriff watch Rachel Ray?
3. Deathly allergic to peanuts.
4. Bread? I'm so sure. First you put me in prison, then you try to make me eat carbs.

Cruel and unusual much?

(3rd & Final chapter next)

It's so not OZ.

Girl- I just got outta jail!

9 pm Saturday night to 4 pm Sunday afternoon. They gave me shampoo but no conditioner. It was sub human.

But seriously. My drunk boyfriend (DBF) called me a whore and accused me of fucking my longtime boss in front of 5 of my friends @ my house. So I grabbed my letter opener***, calmly went up the stairs, and grabbed the first thing of his I could find- an ugly Kelly green Polo shirt. Cut the left sleeve off, threw it down stairs like an ugly, bulky snowflake. After I heard the first “WTF?!?” I threw the other sleeve down and ran into my closet (which is a bedroom I turned into a giant walk-in) cause the DBF came charging up the stairs like a bull. He throws open the door, pushes me on my ass and starts swearing. I deck him, burst a blood vessel in his eye and we tussle.

My friends downstairs are meanwhile asking if they should go. No you fucks. Videotape it. What do you think? Yes – GO! Meanwhile, the friends were so nice to wait and try and get a picture of me in the cop car for my Myspace but the lighting sucked.

So I get brought into jail, fingerprinted, did a Janice Dickinson in my mug shot and was thrown in a cell.

I was awakened by my cellmate taking a shit.

Pt. 2 tomorrow!

***I say letter opener, I mean switchblade- I mean I open up mail with it every day so I call it my letter opener

Worst Weave o' the Week

Paris has been through enough. My judgement is weighty and I would fear for her spirit should I chuck some stones at that plexiglass house. Plus Sharon Stone is abroad.

So it's my sad duty to present the 1st Worst Weave o' the Week award to Fergie, nee. Stacy Ferguson. As a popular international hook singer and plastic surgery what-not-to-do, Fergie is now joining the ranks of many a mall hair girl.


You know the type of chick I'm referring to. The lush extensions looks great from the front. But some girls don't bother to look over their shoulder and observe the sad few strands of hay that lay lackluster and hang beneather their shorter locks. See that one long piece of hair straining to reach Fergie's waist? Yea...that's the fake part for you unversed in the world of weave.

I once had a threeway with a veternarian & psych student so I feel completely qualified to make this next statement. Fergies's fake hair is going to kill this animal!

Either he'll choke on the scraggly bits after a torrid lovemaking session or he'll kill himself should he be made to be seen with her Lumps in public...and by public I mean the Sumatran rainforest or wherev.

And if you don't believe me, gaze deep into the orangutan's eyes. He's clearly in need of some assistance. He's pleading. His l'il chimpy hand is out. He's asking for scissors to help trim her shaggy 'do...actually- in this case- her shaggy don't.

So next time you see Fergie, yank her weave out...for the primate's sake.

Aberzombie & Fitch

Abercrombie & Fitch was founded in the late 1800's as a sporting & excursion goods retailer. They would outfit the elite for safari, croquet or just your everyday boujie practices. I'm not certain that the founders would comprehend that their apparel is still used voraciously in hunting practices (be it now in more urban locales- Castro, Christopher St., Robertson, etc...).

Now usually it takes a spin and a cocktail before someone utters the stigmatized F-word. Even then, it's looked down as the queeniest turn of phrase on the block (again- Castro, Christopher & especially Roberston)
Has A&F's customer base shifted so much that the gays who spend the most there are finally being represented? The branding of the new scent for men will be bought by probably one specific group of male customers.

Two snaps & a clap if you can guess their target market...

B to 'da INGO

Someone just complained that the blog was boring because I wasn't updating to their liking. I'm sooo sorry. I didn't realize I should neglect my social life and hygiene for the sake of timely entries. I had auditions, new jobs, a drunken birthday weekend and reckless stripper (m & f, thank you) excursions.

I also got a new gig. It's Hamburger Mary's Celebrity Bingo. I'm part of the Bingo family officially. My first night is July 11th @ HM in WeHo. The celebrity guests (so far) hosting with me are Marcellas Reynolds (Big Brother) and Lindsay Hollister (a.k.a. Nanette Babcock from Nip/Tuck). It's going to be a semi regular thing I think.

Now sure, you're gonna come out and you might not win. But nothing will be as bad as my Gram's worst game. I've spoken about her before. She's the grandmom who told me I needed a bra on my 8th birthday. Back to Gram's bad game though. She got hepatitis from a bingo game. Really, a hot dog she ate @ Mt. Carmel's weekly game. It's a shame she's gone now. Hep C is the disease du jour with Pam Anderson & Naomi Judd among the unlucky few. I bet she woulda loved to come to a BINGO game now that I was calling it...and she'd see she I took her advice. I wear a bra.