drunken plea of the week


the worst.

Dear marc,
I’m sitting at a bus stop listening to a cover of ‘forever young’ and getting SENTIMENTAL. I had to leave the bar because I’m tired/old/drunk/hungry/OLD, which is the saddest thing I’ve ever admitted in public.

help a bitch, srsly. 

And of course the bus is 20 minutes late. I WANT TO EAT THE CHOCOLATE MY MOM SENT ME. Happy easter, you cunt.



it’s like someone plucked a hair from zeus’ head, slapped some eyeliner on it and called it ZOE, goddess of body dysmorphia. i’m so jealous of her whisper-thinnery.

other job

dear marc,

i recently accepted a position in retail. i’m not going to tell you what store it is (i’m just calling ‘the place,’ and ‘other job’), but just know that i gave up wearing the store’s clothes when i stopped eating 3,000 calories a day and could fit into sassier pieces (and nothing in this store could be considered a ‘piece’). anyway, the job sucks. it’s merchandising, but it’s completely mindless and tedious and blaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. and the PEOPLE even suck, marc. you know i’ll take any job where the people might be halfway wacky just so i can tell people stories about how RIDICULOUS everyone is. these people are just giant glasses of skim milk, stumbling around, spilling their white supremacy all over the place (no, not in the fun way). except for one girl, who doesn’t speak but it always making weird grunty noises when someone says something stupid. and there’s a token black chick who is so afrocentric but in the most superficial of ways. she talks like a white chick but says things (and i’m paraphrasing) like, “i’m black. i like black things. february is black history month. i like february. i’m black.”
(yes, she’s mariah carey.)
anyway, i’m hoping this is only a temporary matter, only until i can get enough money to book it the hell out of here. or you could deus ex machina my ass and JUST COME GET ME YOU BASTARD TEASE. don’t feel too bad though, i’m working at the earth house still, which is my only source of mental stimulation. now THOSE are some interesting people.
(look how fun i look, even when getting blind-sided by a secret photog.)
come get me marc. mama’s waiting.

evil v. PURE evil

dear marc,

quitting smoking is ROUGH AND RISKY BUSINESS. i’ve done pretty well, though. i bought a pack of smokes on monday and it’s lasted me until today. that’s WITH sharing with friends/homeless moochers. i think that’s impressive, because normally i would have been done with those sin sticks after 2 days.
the REAL issue is this: do i even WANT to quit smoking anymore? i mean, YES i’m trying to avoid looking like a rough lohan, but look at her when she’s not being photographed ferociously close and with bad lighting:
look at her, hanging out on that couch with some guy she doesn’t know, probably thinking, “YEAH i’m gonna trick him into pounding this used cooze ALL NIGHT. hey baby, got a light?” she’s having so much fun! sinnin’ is so fun. and she looks cool and casual and all those C-words that everyone LONGS to be called (yes, even a bit cunty).
if i give up smoking, will i have any fun? AND WON’T I GET FAT? i mean, look at jessica simpson:
bitch probably didn’t smoke a DAY in her pure, poorly educated life. now she’s JUST as washed up and rough-looking as lohan, but she’s painting on her clothes because she refuses to be seen at lane bryant. at least lohan’s bone thin and casually careless with her appearance. poor jimpson’s just…well, the fact that the name “jimpson” fits her is enough of an insult.
give me some guidance, marc.

fudge addiction

so i’m sitting in the living room watching the same 2 episodes of the rachel zoe project over and over again  and trying to figure out a way to get david to sing shania twain songs to me (i’ve recently discovered that he knows all of her songs?  FAG.) when i suddenly thought, ‘MATT. get up and DO something.  put down that fudge you stole from maggie (you don’t want to look like cameron manheim AGAIN) and DO SOMETHING.’ so i finished the fudge (obviously) and then took a shower, because i haven’t technically showered since thursday…

anyway, now i’m re-vamping my CV to send to magazines.  my plan is to get a really great internship (even if it’s unpaid) then work on the weekends/at night to make enough money to live/be fabulous (drink).
goals for the week:
find a stupid job at a pub or something.
find a FIERCE internship.
FIGURE OUT THIS HOSTEL DEAL.  i need to get OUT of little pakistan and into a yuppie hood where i belong.
smoke a cig with kate moss.
okay, maybe a little fudge.