RedRoxie...
I had a dream last night. Robi(y?)n and I were at the airport and she got busted with cocaine capsules in her pants, on her inner, upper thigh. I mouthed "Do you have stuff?" And she looked really angry with herself and nodded yes without looking back at me.
They found it. And pulled it out (miraculously, no hole made in her pockets). And held the things up for me to see. They questioned me and started yelling at me. And then I said "I really don't think it's my fault that Robi(y?)n likes cocaine capsules. They are her cocaine capsules; please give them back to her and be considerate."
They both stared at me - and the woman (mousy) turned to the man (graying) and started babbling and he cut her off and in a Southern accent started talking to me about how this could all be a judgment of my character and if I was a good gay Christian or not. I said I was. He was just about to let us go free and politely give her back her coke capsules when I awoke to see the same man, talking about being good Christians on that morning televangilist show on BET.
What. The. Fuck.
So...the photoshoot went well. Hilary was great. On the last three photos, I jumped into a pool with Vlad. I know what you're thinking! Har-dee-har-hard-on. That isn't what happened.
We jumped in and she took at picture of it (it was BURNING out) and I came up out of the water and threw my hair off my face gloriously, and then...POP goes the whiplash. Yes, kids, I got minor whiplash in my neck.
From throwing my hair. Wet hair.
Did Baywatch ever encounter this problem...?
Laid in the dark for 7 hours, completely still with my head stuck to my left shoulder because my neck couldn't move without horrible pain. Alternating heat and ice. Fuck me sideways and running. Every time I'd start to doze off - yep - I'd start awake again from the pain.
The first day of school was a very tender neck day. No sudden movements.
Today was better.
I hope tomorrow progresses in the same fashion.
And here is my sign off:
We all hate Maggie. My last entry with all the comments is proof. She is a bitch and undeserving of my time.
Hilary says the photos are incredible. They'd better be for all my suffering, you whore.
They found it. And pulled it out (miraculously, no hole made in her pockets). And held the things up for me to see. They questioned me and started yelling at me. And then I said "I really don't think it's my fault that Robi(y?)n likes cocaine capsules. They are her cocaine capsules; please give them back to her and be considerate."
They both stared at me - and the woman (mousy) turned to the man (graying) and started babbling and he cut her off and in a Southern accent started talking to me about how this could all be a judgment of my character and if I was a good gay Christian or not. I said I was. He was just about to let us go free and politely give her back her coke capsules when I awoke to see the same man, talking about being good Christians on that morning televangilist show on BET.
What. The. Fuck.
So...the photoshoot went well. Hilary was great. On the last three photos, I jumped into a pool with Vlad. I know what you're thinking! Har-dee-har-hard-on. That isn't what happened.
We jumped in and she took at picture of it (it was BURNING out) and I came up out of the water and threw my hair off my face gloriously, and then...POP goes the whiplash. Yes, kids, I got minor whiplash in my neck.
From throwing my hair. Wet hair.
Did Baywatch ever encounter this problem...?
Laid in the dark for 7 hours, completely still with my head stuck to my left shoulder because my neck couldn't move without horrible pain. Alternating heat and ice. Fuck me sideways and running. Every time I'd start to doze off - yep - I'd start awake again from the pain.
The first day of school was a very tender neck day. No sudden movements.
Today was better.
I hope tomorrow progresses in the same fashion.
And here is my sign off:
We all hate Maggie. My last entry with all the comments is proof. She is a bitch and undeserving of my time.
Hilary says the photos are incredible. They'd better be for all my suffering, you whore.