Oh Aaron Carter, what were you doing at the VMA's? I know you once put out an awful album about throwing a house party while your mom went grocery shopping (or to bail out Nick - I forget) AND that Hohan and Gruff once fought over you, but why were you there? My.... Lindsay and Hilary....that was then, wasn't it you 4 inch waste of space? What do you do that's more interesting than I that would deem it necessary to have you attend the VMA's and not me??? Really. I saw photos of you smoking weed and making out with 15 year-olds in Star Magazine - you ain't that hot.
Now somebody please tell me why this kid has a career and makes more money than I do. Please.
For those of you who witnessed the debacle that took place last night at the MTV Video Music Awards, allow me to express my emotions in one phrase, "Dear Lord".
Dear Lord that P Diddy (or Diddy or whatever the hell he wants to call himself these days) was chosen to be host. After his first three seconds I was praying for Chris Rock, Dave Chapelle, even the damn Wayans Brothers!
Dear Lord that R. Kelly is allowed to perform his one man staged show about being stuck in a closet in front of minors (seriously I thought he had to remain at least 100 feet from anyone under the age of 18) Side note - I hate it when people decide to use props during their stage time. Keep it simple jerkoffs - a mike stand and some dancers work wonders.
Dear Lord that Diddy had to "orchestrate" a Biggie Small's song much to the chagrin of the real orchestra up on stage. What do you think the chances are that while he was waving his arms like a madman, the violinist was secretly flipping him off? I'd hope pretty high.
Dear Lord that Biggie is dead because seriously without his murder - where would Diddy be?
Dear Lord that Eva Langoria decided to show her camel toe to all of America.
" I see your true camel toe shining thru...."
Dear Lord that Chris Martin doesn't want to make out with me.
Dear Lord, that Jessica Simpson is the new Anna Nicole (excellent observation Katherine!) and that Ashlee (the uglier one) actually looked better. Honestly Jessica, was that outfit a leftover costume from Halloween 04' (the slutty french maid) or did Knoxville and Nick tag-team you in the dressing room?
Dear Lord that 50 Cent wears more feminine wife beaters than I do. I mean nice guns and all, but would it hurt to put on a button down? Seriously.
Dear Lord that Mariah could only be shot from one angle (I'm on to you oh crazy one), and that I was highly concerned about the whereabouts of her dancers-turned-deep sea divers after they fell into the pool.
Dear Lord that when My Chemical Romance performed I shrieked like myself at my first New Kids on the Block concert back in 1990...in Dan's ear.
Dear Lord that I'm dying to know if Johnny Knoxville really is good in bed.
Dear Lord that I wasn't invited.
When I was like 9, my family got a French exchange student, Isabelle. She was around my older sister Melissa's age (so say 16) and yet I got stuck hanging out with "the mean frog". She was the epitome of what you'd think a French sixteen year-old would be: rude, lazy, bitchy, slutty, bitchy. We all hated her. And to make matters worse, one night she came home from probably porking some French dude behind the Toys R Us (this we know because Melissa would read her diary), and at the time upon her arrival we were actually waiting for Melissa's best friend Jenny to come in from Florida where she had recently moved. Aimee opened the door as we all rallied behind her screaming "Yay Jenny's here!!!", when I heard the following, "Aw shit, it's only Isabelle." (insert door closing) Then to our surprise Isabelle must have heard because we began to hear, "WHAT?? You say shit to meeee??!!" in a rich French accent. We were shocked and appalled...not at Aimee slamming the door and cursing out our French exchange student - but that Isabelle was able to remove her tongue from her boyfriend's mouth long enough to hear.
Now that's what I call a sticky situation.
On top of my weekly Laguna recaps, I've also decided to try to recap my other Monday night favorite, "The Ultimate Fighter". I know most people cringe at the idea of two men going at it in an octogon cage and beating the shit out of one another....well me too! I watch it for the articles.
Last night we met the new contestants. To be honest, I got caught in the middle of a phone call so I missed a great deal, but I did manage to catch the last half hour which left me dissapointed. I wanted to see a fight but two big pussies bowed out before that could happen. My favorite part was watching the one guy collapse in the sauna and push his way out then cry like me when they wanted him to lose two more pounds.
Speech of the night went to the owner who cursed those girls out like the little women that they are. Who the hell am I kidding, I'd see one of them in an alley and run the other way. But from the safety of my couch...I can secretly flip them off.
Spent the weekend at a wedding in Vermont. So relaxing. So nice. Flew back on Jetblue and was just a tad bit sad when we landed and I saw highrises and not mountains. Don't worry, Sara isn't going soft. But once in a while it's nice to escape to someplace other than Miami, Las Vegas, and the Jersey shore. You know, once in a while.
So I decided that on top of recaping Laguna every Tuesday, I am also going to try to recap "The Ultimate Fighter" because apparently I am a diesel dike. Splendid.
There is this person that I work with, who really thinks that they know it all. They have every answer to every question you didn't even ask. They are insightful, knowledgeable, and efficient. I didn't mean this last comment because I had my fingers crossed behind my back. SO THERE SMARTY PANTS!!!!
Ryan,
I heard this terrible rumor that you are currently dating Rachel McAdams, the star of every fucking film that came out this summer. (she's the summer's answer to Jude Law) Whatever. I have no idea what that really means. Like I hate when people are like, "this is this years Ugg Boot". Or something. Whatever. Listen Ryan, why won't you call? Why won't you stalk? Why won't you call? Oh shit, already typed that. Okay, here is my plan: you dump her and I will make you the happiest man in the world....for like ten minutes then we will break up. Whatever Ryan, you're not man enough for me.
Love you kitten,
SJ
So newsflash, I have a new obsession and it's name is Dunston. My other new obsession is crying to Brandy how much I want and need chocolate munchkins from the new Dunkin' Donuts right near me, while we sit and watch the Teen Choice Awards and The Real World: Austin.
So this is what a busy successful lady looks like. Take a look, she'll be here until she goes to bed later than she should only to wake up late and nearly miss her meeting at 8:30am the next morning.