*is curled up on the couch watching Finding Nemo with Rudy and Iris, under the disapproving, watchful eye of the nanny, wearing pajama pants and a disgustingly expensive cashmere sweater stolen from Jude, that he doesn't even realize is disgustingly expensive*

*is curled up in Jude's bed, asleep, having taken a couple of valiums right after last night's fight with Tove, before Jude even made it upstairs, and having fallen asleep immediately*

*pulls his SUV up to Jude Law's house, turning off the engine, but not getting out just yet*

I honestly find it hard to believe that Jude Law would invite me to dinner, but Jonny said I was invited, and while I was originally thinking of standing him up, recent occurrences with Reese, along with something Hayds said, have made me reconsider ( Read more... )

Clearly, I'm going to have to have a talk with the security company. Bloody vandals destroyed one of my flowerbeds while I was gone. I shall insist on seeing the tapes, darlings, as this sort of thing is completely unacceptable.

I sent Leo away yesterday, and while I simply hated to break his heart in that manner, it was, I admit, the right ( Read more... )

What a relief to be home, darlings. Not that several days of Sadie's company wasn't enjoyable. Actually, it was quite amusing, as Rafferty spent most of it bonking her over the head with things. And pointing out mating animals on safari, and explaining the process of reproduction to his mother, who was quite interested and not at all embarassed. ( Read more... )

*sits on the kitchen counter, staring at Michael's cell phone, which is sitting on the kitchen island and ringing endlessly*

Jude's been calling that phone all evening. *pinches the bridge of his nose*

At first, I thought Michael was just ignoring me in the pool-house, given what happened last evening. But after knocking at the pool-house door, ( Read more... )

*looks at his phone, where the line just went unexpectedly dead*

There's nothing like Jonny to brighten one's day, darlings. But he is, if nothing else, honest, and possibly right, though I'd rather saw through my lips than tell him so. He gets so utterly smug when he's right ( Read more... )

I am not feckin' poutin'. Just because I go out to a feckin' pub and meet up with the very bastard who sent me to feckin' rehab, and then fuck him in my feckin' limo, and then invite him home, only to get turned the feck down, does not mean I'm feckin' poutin ( Read more... )

*is sitting at the bar of the Troubadour, sipping on a mojito, and trying to listen to Jonathan Rhys Meyers over Michael's screaming on stage ( Read more... )

Leo asked Michael out on a date, darlings, and to my utter shock, he accepted ( Read more... )