writing is for poor people. i dictate all my blogs to my personal assistant.
i've decided that suburban living is just not my cup of tea. heretofore, my life has been beige. ergo, in an effort to inject some color into my daily grind and escape my comfortable duldrums i will become a celebutante. i'm not interested in being famous for anything in particular; it's moreso celebrity for celebrity's sake. and i've begun a very detailed journal/how-to guide to chronicle my social upward mobility. here's a taste:
The first step is quite obviously not doing certain things in public.
1.) i may not eat in public. ever. not allowed. at least not until i can make that whore dakota fanning look like a heffer. after i'm the weight of a cashew, i can start with the public consumption of salads. small salads. small dressing-free salads. however, if i lose my oh-so-desireable nourishment-deprived-orphan-of-a-war-torn-thrid-world-nation silhouette, i lose my eating privileges. those fucking impoverished kids don't know how lucky they are.
2.) i may not smile in front of paparazzi. i must look as though i am very annoyed that people would even consider taking my picture. if i do feel compelled to smile, it will be the constipated, pursed-lip, closed-mouth wonder that the olsen twins have perfected.
3.) i must not speak to undesireables (aka not famous people). for all intensive purposes, they have leprosy and conjuctivitis and any other highly contageous disease you can think of. nothing can ruin a socialite's reputation faster than non-famous people. especially if they're more attractive than me.
more updates to come, bitches!
The first step is quite obviously not doing certain things in public.
1.) i may not eat in public. ever. not allowed. at least not until i can make that whore dakota fanning look like a heffer. after i'm the weight of a cashew, i can start with the public consumption of salads. small salads. small dressing-free salads. however, if i lose my oh-so-desireable nourishment-deprived-orphan-of-a-war-torn-thrid-world-nation silhouette, i lose my eating privileges. those fucking impoverished kids don't know how lucky they are.
2.) i may not smile in front of paparazzi. i must look as though i am very annoyed that people would even consider taking my picture. if i do feel compelled to smile, it will be the constipated, pursed-lip, closed-mouth wonder that the olsen twins have perfected.
3.) i must not speak to undesireables (aka not famous people). for all intensive purposes, they have leprosy and conjuctivitis and any other highly contageous disease you can think of. nothing can ruin a socialite's reputation faster than non-famous people. especially if they're more attractive than me.
more updates to come, bitches!