October 27, 2010 Leave a comment
October 27, 2010 1 Comment
I had lunch with my dear friend Barbie, you might remember her from the NBA party where we blacked out at with Sway and Lloyd Banks. She works for Howard Stern and had been bbming me since 7:25 AM about how David Arquette was back and worse than in the first interview. Barbie text “Oh my god. He’s rapping”
Also, she ordered so many sushi rolls that the waitress thought she was done ordering, but she really had to order 1 more and I hadn’t even ordered yet. ERRONEOUS.
I wanted to wait until I had the MP3 stream to share with you these Arquette twinkles of pure blood diamonds, but I have to tell you some of the things that were said before I have access to that. wahhhimsuchabadreporterwahhhh.
1. He cheated again. Yikes. and apparently with an Australian he met at the Roosevelt Hotel. Blech. I hate Australians, although, I do admire their ability to brainwash an entire country’s female population to trust their knowledge of winter slipper boots considering the closest thing they get to snow is a Slurpee…which they even have. eff.
Ali Hilfiger totally started the Ugg trend, P.S.
Rich Girls was almost as good as my favorite Maui Fever, which was almost as good as the OG Laguna Beach, season 1. STEEEVEE–AHHHHHHNN. Close, but not, quite.
I do miss Jamie Glacier face though….
I remember making this face when I saw thick B. Spears looked in her Sometimes music video where she is wearing a half shirt white turtle neck.
2. The Coxy Arquettes didn’t have a pre-nup. Oh wait wait wait, but do you know what I bet Court’s lawyers do have? Mp3′s of all these interviews with The Howard. I should probably contact them if Barbie forgets to give it to me.
3. Then shit got real when Stern asked him if he would like to date Anniston now that he is single…
“Not right, not good. Cool it. Settle down.” -Arquette said…through giggles and bloody mary withdrawal symptoms. (Pretty sure West will be feeling them as well on Friday morning
4. Then he starting slurring and babbling about talking to his business partner (they own a club together) and apparently one night he was out and called Arquette to meet up, he had a couple easy 5-6′s and Arquette tried to get out of it, but his friend said come onnnnn David, you know what type of business were in…and David Giggled like James Franco’s character in Pineapple Express and said “Da Funnnnn Business.”
More to come tonight because it’s trivia night and I am meeting Kim Kardashian after work and I am going to D.C. tomorrowwwwww.
West and I are dressing up as Britney Spears’ nipples for halloween. Wearing pink t-shirts and brown berets…I’m trying to convince her to let me carry a umbrella because I have a feeling some of her insanity comes from their separation anxiety…from each other.
These pics were taken outside my office at 23rd and 5th, on my walk into work while the Don was filming his ridic show, Celebrity Apprentice. Apparently I missed Latoya Wacko Jacko, and when I asked a co-worker how tiny her nose really is, I could see all the whites of his eyes.
I also missed richer, prettier, smarter, taller, bigger breasted Whitney Port.
….umm Hello! I’m talking about Invanka, come on. You’re better than that.
A precious blonde intern asked if this was Lil Wayne. I told her: He’s in jail, hunny.
She responded with, “He is?”
I had to let her go.
Maybe the reason I stepped on a dead mouse today is because of all of it I have been listening to.
If that is the case, Momsen, I hope those stripper shoes have steal toes.
So these week is mostly techno….
I’ve haunted the web development team at my work for help with everything from coding, to google analytics, to asking them to help me create a better facebook and now FINALLY I figured out how to play youtube vids IN the my blog so you little bitties who are just too incredibly lazy to click to open these songies in another window can treat yourself to listening in the post. One song you still have to click..I’m not perfect.
Ok, I’m starting with Jo Jo’s jams this week. The first remix is so sicky I was on the verge of tears while I was watching Jose Cosecu play catch with Mark McGrath outside my office.
Also will make you qry. Where does that voice come from?
Killer remix of the Metric song Help, I’m alive. I saw them perform at Terminal 5 last year and it was one of the best concerts I’ve ever been to– perfect combo of disco and electronic and she’s got the cutest little voice to help you fight those Tuesday morning blues.
And some pretty L train beats suggested by a West Coast Chick.
This song I feel like is missing something, but I can’t figure it out. I think it’s just pretty dated– def sounds like something Janet would have come out with back in in ’05 with her tittie x’ed out. J. Timberlake is sooooo naughty.
The bass is dope, and Ciara looks so incredible I can’t. Def the best dancer in the game. Besides Beiber…
Songs’ outrageously normal. Which sucks because I was expecting a lot more from Guetta and Riri, but still about as fun as going out sober….wah.
I used to hate Katy Perry. And not even a Momsen hate, where I sort of wanted to be her, a REAL hate– she really just grossed me out, but her songs have been so heavily techno influenced lately that I’m starting to love her.
Pretty much my favorite Deadmau5 remix right now. Listen to it while you are dancing in the mirror and try not to qry and picture yourself licking Scott Disick’s face at Tenjune. (where my company Christmas party is this year. hhhhweird.)
Snooki and Banks’s new favorite song.
Vid is NOT nsfw, and those girls need a tan.
This reminds me of the techno room at the Padock in Ocean City, Maryland. AYO PARTY BLOCK.
Maybe too much for a Tuesday, but then again, I can’t figure out my google analytics and I think I do have one very special reader in Paris…
These bros are outrageously handsome with their southern gentleman meets Brooklyn style. Their music is pretty mellow, not really my scene, but I bet their concert would have a lot of handsome Vampire Weekend artsy ivy leaguers and they are playing at Webster Hall on Friday and Sat for 20 bones at 7:30.
This vide is pretty sweet too– it looks like it was shot by my favorite. photographer at the moment, arnaud pyvka
check out twitter.com/celebritweeties for pics from earlier.
Not sure if this is some sort of foreshadowing or what– maybe I am destined to be a D list celebrity by the time I am 28? Maybe I am just destined to eat a salad for lunch, who the shit knows.
All I know is that I saw these D list gems filming Celebrity Apprentice this morning on 23rd and 5th. Sort of upset that I didn’t see the Don because the last time I saw him, he was sandwiched in between Rihanna, Leighton Meister and Milania at the Katy Perry concert last summer, pouting away with that quaff and pale lips. He was outrageously tan and I wonder if he shares the same fake tan as Scottie DD…MONTE CARLO!
Here we go:
1. Jose Conseco
2. Gary Busey
3. Mark McGrath
4. anddddd Lil Jon
And THEN. I stepped on a mouse.
I have actual pics I took on my blackberry, they will be posted on twitter.com/celebritweeties and mayyybeeee I will sneak them into Good Tuesdays.
You can all decide for yourself and once again ladies and gentleman.
Rocky loves Emily
I thought Colt was the biggest babe, but now looking back I wonder if I was a lesbian from 1994-1998?
Now he looks like he could be KD Lang’s stunt double
and did none of us learn ANYTHING from Jerry O’Connell. A chubby child actor does an male adult babe make.
Meet me at Dorrian’s, Tum Tum!
Good Tuesdays tomorrow. Goodnight, tonight.
I really don’t think there is anything this girl can do to make me not love her.
Considering 3 of my friends sent me this same picture within one Deadmau5 song, I had to share it with yous.
Operation she will be in my wedding by 2015.
Snooki and Scott are my number ones right now, besides Kris Jenner and Antoine Dodson.
Last week me and my buddy Qordie killed it at trivia in the celebrity section and won a pizza. The people next to us won around $300 so, I was a little but upset at our winnings, but it was mostly because of our stellar name “My Couch Pulls Out, but I Don’t.”
Also, he was the ONLY person to know that this little diva below is Ms. Mariah.
I’m just praying to anyone that will listen to flap my giant opinionated mouth that next week has at least one round where my knowledge of the meaning behind the girls on the Bad Girl’s Club tattoos and the name of Scott Disick’s fake tan (Monte Carlo) will be sweetly rewarded because mama needs a new pair of jeffies..
This interview was done literally a year and a half ago. I already jumped out my window. Twice.
Please tell me how on earth Momsen went from carrying a pink bag and confessing that stealing a pack of gum as being the worst thing she has ever done to performing in stripper heals and what Courtney Love wears to bed with 40 year old band mates — AND oh yeah– FLASHING AN AUDIENCE AT HER PERFORMANCE in 18 months?
Because I am completely baffled.
Slashies..this happened is the bar I was at after Ed Westwick incident that I had to rip Banks away from the man who was shaped like Grimace with a 8 face. Sort of upset I wasn’t here for this.
And that’s the problem. I start hating celebrities so much that they consume my life and then all of the sudden poof. I love them.
Brian Wilson. You’re next.
October 22, 2010 1 Comment
Last night was my dear friend Banks’ birthday that you were introduced to last week when I was verbally assaulted by Ed Westwick and she was begging me charcol around her mug a la Momsen.
I tried to get us dinner reservations at The Lion, but considering we are mere mortals (not decendents of Park Ave or even the Kardashians,) we couldn’t get reservations until 10:30 even WITH pull from Gallery and his moderately famous boss.
So I change the plans and switch it to a fancy cocktail for 5 at The Lion, then a dinner consisting of Bud Light Pitchers to watch the Phillies game and then, if we make it (we made it) off we will go to a CMJ hipster bash down in LES serving free PBR if you promise to buy all your music instead of pirating it from now until forever, act ungrateful and wear flannel. Rock’n'Roll.
I get to The Lion by myself around 7. I have never been there, just walked by, and I knew these girls wouldn’t be able to handle being able to even walk in because there is no sign out front, so I wanted to get there, set up shop, assess the talent, check out the dress code, get in with the bartender and most importantly, get a buzz going before I have to hang out with Banks.
I order a Kettle martini up, who the eff drinks it on ice, and dirty because I am trying to get some sort of food in me considering the agenda. The two men in their 50′s to my right are British, German or from Texas; their accents are a bit muddled by the slurring and they are comparing bags and iPads by using their iPhones. The Asian woman to my left sipping on a champagne cocktail is on about as many quaaludes as she has had reconstructive surgeries and is in a short white fur coat that makes her look like a Komondor– she also has on enough make up to re-paint the Sistine Chapel and her face is perma in a shiny grease ball grin.
I’m trying to look more important than everyone, so I have out both my Blackberries. Unfortunatly I’m not getting any texts or emails at all except from Banks about what to wear and how she should do her eye makeup and that I better look like an Olsen at her wedding (she’s single.)
And I am desperately trying to avoid her at most costs, but I respond to look important considering no one else is texting and I cannot be at any type of risk to be caught checking my facebook at The Lion.
Finally the girls arrive. The motley crew consists of Banks, Birdie (my waspy friend since middle school with perfect blonde curly hair) and Crow Bar (my waspy friend since high school with perfect straight blonde hair.) Got it? Good.
They walk in, but not before I get a call from Banks “Yeah, so…what do I do?” I knew this would be difficult, but not THIS difficult. Thank God I didn’t take them to Chloe or Marquee.
“What do you mean what do you do? Walk downstairs and come inside.” “Ok, but, like, where is it?” “Red awning. No sign. People Smoking. Stairs. Bushes. Walk downstairs. Get a grip”
They order drinks and four men show up. Banks overhears that it’s one man’s birthday and immediately we’ve got a party. Only difference is, these men were definitely born when disco was new.
The one guy is in a navy blue polar fleece and when I ask him if it’s Old Navy performance fleece, he is midely offended, but handsome enough that I give him a wink and the score is settled. He looks a lot like John Cusak, but not enough for me to put that one together unless someone told me. Someone like himself. As in one of those that is like, “well, people say I look like John Cusak.” “Yeah sort of…I guess you do.” “Hey guys! These chicks think I look like John Cusak. That’s rich!” Ok, cork it.
So Cusak tells me that he owns his own business, that’s why he is wearing the fleece vest, his logo is on the breast. Mental note.
Then he figures out we are all from Philly and tells us he is from Cherry Hill. Mental note numero dos.
About 20 minutes later, after we are all on our second round, and I have already told one guy he looks like Carl Malone and the birthday boy (who looks like the shady kid that steals shit in Can’t Hardly Wait) is stealthily making an outrageous effort to hide his wedding ring by holding his drink in one hand and having his betrothed hand in his pocket and then all efforts are halted in hiding it because poof, his hand is out of the pocket, but his ring did not survive and look ladies, I’m single!–Banks then asks Cusak where he went to college.
“Guess,” he says with a smirk that could melt rock. Game time.
“You played lacrosse in high school.” He is impressed. Advantage me.
“You went to Penn.” Shocked. 30 Love.
“Then you went to Warton.” Game.
Really a moron could figure this out considering the context clues of him being an attractive man from outside of Philly who owns his own business in New York, but apparently he is on mars with this and can’t stop saying how did she know that and asks us if we want red wine which is really confusing until he orders about 50 oysters and I am onto him and whisper to Crow Bar that he has ordered an exuberant amount of aphrodisiacs and it’s about time for us to leave just as Prancer (another friend of me and Banks) shows up and announces the Phillies are up which sends my friends into a round of high fives and Pauly D awww yeahs and I have visions of my name black listed from The Lion and then being deported from New York on a bus and then moving into my parents’ house and wearing clothes from Dress Barn and I am on the verge of tears so I tell them we have to go.
I put most of the drinks on Senor Cusak Polar Fleece’s tab with the help of the bartender (that’s why I got there early, we are friends now after I found out we share a hatred for fruit in beer. Both of us are obviously not afraid of scurvy) and witness Banks get birthday boy’s digies (wedding ring burning in his pocket like the 4th level of Dante’s Inferno,) and we out.
We made our way to the Phillies’ bar about 5 blocks away, I replace my cardigan with my Phillies’ t-shirt and set up shop. Order a couple pitchers straight off the bat and Crow Bar takes over the menu.
“We will take almost everything that is fried and or has some sort of cheese.”
At this point, we are pretty drunk and Banks is on a mission…not sure what the mission is, but it’s out there and she looks pretty focused. I point out that we hung out with the two guys across the bar last weekend and before I blink Banks is already doing a beer bong with one of them which is shocking because they were about a 2 minute walk away with crowd difficulties.
After I buy a buttery nipple for the guy next to me just so I could get him as close to a nipple as he has been since infancy, I really contemplate my role on this planet when the blond twins come in the bar, carrying one lit cupcake and the entire bar is singing happy birthday to Momsen eyes.
I guess I got the kid to me left loose with that shot, because he then pushed the cupcake into Banks’s face, and we let most of the chocolate stay there for a decent amount of time.
More antics ensue, blah blah, Phillies win, I hug most people just to feel human contact and we decide it’s time to round ‘em up and head to the hipster party but not before Banks gets about 15 numbers and we drag her away from a serious Granade, who I am pretty sure she made out with at some point. I take off the Phillies shirt and put it in my bag with my cardigan and pop the color on my leather coat. I feel like Mariah with all these costume changes.
We walk outside and say bye to Prancer, and it’s the original 4 again.
As Crow Bar and Banks are sipping on a marb light, a giant SUV rolls by with two men sitting in the front, the driver looks like Suge Knight with a dash of Warren Sapp and the passanger looks like he is a manager at The Body Shop (he was) that shout something fresh at me.
While most people would be offended or let’s be honest in New York, would have simply ignored them, I ask them where they are going and we got ourselves a VIP all access escort to the the hipster party.
All of us pile in and Banks takes it upon herself to start freestyling and it’s as if Will Smith himself is trying to lay the track. She also keeps calling the driver, Warren Sapp to his face and Crown Bar keeps asking them to put on Aston Martin Music.
As cool as their ride looked from the outside, there were only speakers audible in the front of the car, and they were listening to Hot 97. They ask us if we have an iPod and I toss over mine and make them play G6.
Banks freestyle raps the entire way there and it’s so bad it’s throwing us into a tizzy and we can’t even talk or laugh, we are all just hunched over crying at her efforts. She also doesn’t understand how to ride around with strangers in New York, because she invited them into the party and Suge parked the car as he said “who’s nano is this?”
We walk inside and the music sounds like the Monster Mash, but I know it’s not, and a dude with bleach blonde braided pigtails in manjeggings walks past me and I am really ready to give up, but I push through and try to find my friends that are throwing the party.
We are trying to drink the free PBR, but after Coors Light, it tastes like liquid poison and we can’t even.
I finally find my hip friends, and lose Banks and our chauffeurs–glad I was able to show face. Kiss my hipster friends twice on the cheek like I am one of them and then find a handsome asian with ridiculous bone structure, tell him so as I walk out the Monster Ball and get a cab home at 12 AM.
Banks texted me at 2 “weird” so I am pretty sure she is alive and I made it into work. Great success.