Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Getting out there!
Last Friday I attended the delicious Becky Yamamoto's 30th birthday at her abode in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. After picking-up a bikini top at American Apparel, I scooted on over with a bottle of white from Trader Joe's. Once inside, magic happened. I know this is totes hard to believe but once upon a pretty this one here (me pointing at me) was outta a job. During said time I hung out on Becky's couch while her fab roomie, Tom Witte took to the streets- helping me design my portfolio.
Now doll, I swear to jezzy and goddie that I will stop boring you with details but I thought a little back-story would only help set the scene.
Again the party was a smashing success where Becky got drunk and a male stripper showed-up (NOTE BENE BABE: He was a comedic male stripper that looked like Pee-wee Herman not the euro trash you see at Chip n Dales).
So blah, blah, blah. At around 2 AM I noticed that hardly any familiar faces were left and agreed to share a cab back with a Union Electrician named "Karl."
Now I'm no screenwriter but if Jeffrey Katzenberg came at me with a knife and was all "Lianne, I want your story" I'd hand him this:
SCENE OPENS IN A TAXI HEADED BACK TO NYC
Electrician: I'm going to have to get out at your house because I don't have any money.
Sweet Li: I have money.
Electrician: Do you want to see my dick?
SweetLi: Nope.
(Electrician whips out package which by the way was huge)
Sweetli: Wow, that's huge. Now put it away.
Electrician: I want to f*ck you so bad.
SweetLi: That's nice.
CAB STOPS IN FRONT OF EAST VILLAGE APT. SWEET LI SLAPS PERV WITH A TENNER.
Electrician: Are you sure?
SweetLi: Yes, you don't want to be doing this guys dishes do you?
SWEET LI SLAMS THE DOOR AND WALKS UP EACH STEP OF HER FOURTH FLOOR WALK-UP ALONE.
CUT TO TWO DAYS LATER. HER PHONE RINGS FROM AN UNKNOWN NUMBER IN THE "718." SHE WISELY LETS IT GO TO VOICEMAIL.
VM: Hi Lianne, it's "Karl" I'm sorry I was so forward with you the other night. I feel really bad about that.
--------------
I don't know about you boys, but I'd file this under "Romantic Comedy.
Now doll, I swear to jezzy and goddie that I will stop boring you with details but I thought a little back-story would only help set the scene.
Again the party was a smashing success where Becky got drunk and a male stripper showed-up (NOTE BENE BABE: He was a comedic male stripper that looked like Pee-wee Herman not the euro trash you see at Chip n Dales).
So blah, blah, blah. At around 2 AM I noticed that hardly any familiar faces were left and agreed to share a cab back with a Union Electrician named "Karl."
Now I'm no screenwriter but if Jeffrey Katzenberg came at me with a knife and was all "Lianne, I want your story" I'd hand him this:
SCENE OPENS IN A TAXI HEADED BACK TO NYC
Electrician: I'm going to have to get out at your house because I don't have any money.
Sweet Li: I have money.
Electrician: Do you want to see my dick?
SweetLi: Nope.
(Electrician whips out package which by the way was huge)
Sweetli: Wow, that's huge. Now put it away.
Electrician: I want to f*ck you so bad.
SweetLi: That's nice.
CAB STOPS IN FRONT OF EAST VILLAGE APT. SWEET LI SLAPS PERV WITH A TENNER.
Electrician: Are you sure?
SweetLi: Yes, you don't want to be doing this guys dishes do you?
SWEET LI SLAMS THE DOOR AND WALKS UP EACH STEP OF HER FOURTH FLOOR WALK-UP ALONE.
CUT TO TWO DAYS LATER. HER PHONE RINGS FROM AN UNKNOWN NUMBER IN THE "718." SHE WISELY LETS IT GO TO VOICEMAIL.
VM: Hi Lianne, it's "Karl" I'm sorry I was so forward with you the other night. I feel really bad about that.
--------------
I don't know about you boys, but I'd file this under "Romantic Comedy.
Handsome Hanson!
Hey guys and dolls! Sorry I've been so flagrant. I've been busy gaining weight and wandering around aimlessly and have not had a nano-second to blog. So without further adieu, I have some news of epic proportions. XYZ ad agency, my place of re-employ decided to give me my birthday, half-birthday and Christmas gift early! They invited Hanson to come and play in our conference room.
I first spotted the poster "advertising" (no pun intended babe..) Hanson's upcoming appearance and thought to myself, "This is fucking great. You can't make this shit up." I was all "Fucking Hanson? Fucking MMM-Bop? NOOOOOO! S-t-o-p it."
That Friday, I whipped out my new slim, black digital clicker and was off to the races. I swear to the god's god I was the first one in line. I was also the first one to grab a Stella and ask the receptionist if I could borrow her staple remover so I could open it.
Gurlfried! You know me, I'm such a bitch right? I'm the first one to giggle when you've got toilet paper stuck to your shoe. I roll my eyes at people that wear generic brand jeans. I'm a total witch. Which is why I was prepared to have a little fun at Hanson's expense. But as I saw these three tow-headed boys play real instruments and sing live, I found that I couldn't hurl a single insult. They were actually a pleasure to watch. I mean does Gwen Stafani* play the guitar? I don't think so. But one of these cats does. Now I'm not saying that I'm renting an RV and following them on tour... I'm just sayin' these boys may just have a little somethin' somethang!
*LOVE YA GWEN!
CHECK OUT HIS ORGASAM FACE! THIS IS THE SPLIT SECOND THEY WON ME OVER.
LOOK AT THESE CROWDS: IT'S THE BEATLES ALL OVER AGAIN.
FYI: I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THESE CHICKS ARE. BUT WE WERE BONDED BY HANSON.
I JUST WROTE HANSON'S TAGLINE.. "HANSON IS AGELESS" HOT RIGHT?
KIM DOESN'T EVEN WORK AT XYZ! AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN ''DO'' DUDES BUT SHE JUST HAD TO GET HER HANSON ON. P.S. KIM IS MY FAVORITE. TIMES I'VE MADE FUN OF HER? ZERO.
I first spotted the poster "advertising" (no pun intended babe..) Hanson's upcoming appearance and thought to myself, "This is fucking great. You can't make this shit up." I was all "Fucking Hanson? Fucking MMM-Bop? NOOOOOO! S-t-o-p it."
That Friday, I whipped out my new slim, black digital clicker and was off to the races. I swear to the god's god I was the first one in line. I was also the first one to grab a Stella and ask the receptionist if I could borrow her staple remover so I could open it.
Gurlfried! You know me, I'm such a bitch right? I'm the first one to giggle when you've got toilet paper stuck to your shoe. I roll my eyes at people that wear generic brand jeans. I'm a total witch. Which is why I was prepared to have a little fun at Hanson's expense. But as I saw these three tow-headed boys play real instruments and sing live, I found that I couldn't hurl a single insult. They were actually a pleasure to watch. I mean does Gwen Stafani* play the guitar? I don't think so. But one of these cats does. Now I'm not saying that I'm renting an RV and following them on tour... I'm just sayin' these boys may just have a little somethin' somethang!
*LOVE YA GWEN!
CHECK OUT HIS ORGASAM FACE! THIS IS THE SPLIT SECOND THEY WON ME OVER.
LOOK AT THESE CROWDS: IT'S THE BEATLES ALL OVER AGAIN.
FYI: I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THESE CHICKS ARE. BUT WE WERE BONDED BY HANSON.
I JUST WROTE HANSON'S TAGLINE.. "HANSON IS AGELESS" HOT RIGHT?
KIM DOESN'T EVEN WORK AT XYZ! AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN ''DO'' DUDES BUT SHE JUST HAD TO GET HER HANSON ON. P.S. KIM IS MY FAVORITE. TIMES I'VE MADE FUN OF HER? ZERO.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Question
When does a circle become too big to be considered a polka dot?
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Hey! It's been too long. Here's what I've been up to:
From: Lianne Stokes
Date: Tue, 01 May 2007 15:23:26 -0400
To: Lianne Stokes
Conversation: Hi
Subject: Hi
I think you're hot.
Date: Tue, 01 May 2007 15:23:26 -0400
To: Lianne Stokes
Conversation: Hi
Subject: Hi
I think you're hot.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
“Chrissy, didn’t Jack and Janet tell you to never go out before tucking your dick in?!”
When we think of the name Christine…. we think of that super scary car that killed people in Stephen King’s bone-chilling novel. Don’t we? What we don’t think of is: a bald middle-aged man with a protruding pot belly, a nose of mammoth proportions that wears a grey lycra skirt, opaque black knee-highs and orthopedic shoes.
Ooooh! Do. Not. Let. Me. Stop. There! (S)he also had a chestnut brown wig with bangs that hung haphazardly from his head.
I had the extreme pleasure of encountering Miss. Xtine at actress, Desiree Burch’s birthday/show party at Galapagos Art Space on Friday night. This all sounds soooo deliciously pretentious. Don’t it? Yummy.
I was in the bathroom lining my lids with some MAC shadow as I am want to do. (Ahhh… the things I put myself through not to end-up a cat lady) and I heard a voice.
(EXTREME BARATONE) “Hi, I’m Christine.” It said. Then he moved in causing us to engage in a Mexican standoff for the mirror. Christine elbowed me out of the way and was flicking his wig in my face. With one lid lined, I hung tight. I didn’t screech, “Get the FUCK out of the woman’s room!!!!!!!!” Because I thought that he was transgender and I didn’t want to be insensitive. After all I’m a gigantic fag hag and the boys never give me shit in the men’s room at Splash. But I should have. One thing I do know is that a true Mary would never go out in mismatching lycra and knee highs. And, they’d never ever go out without tucking their dicks in.
Yes. Christine had a boner. It was thin and to my estimation about 4.5 inches. Apparently Christine is a shower not a grower.
Back at the party Christine escaped my mind. My gurl Becky Yamamoto and I were dancing like two nerds on acid. As we twirled and whirled, Christine approached, dick fully erect, sticking straight out yearning for attention. Becky saw him coming at us. Her razor sharp reflexes kicked into hyper-drive. She let out a blood-curtailing scream and ran to the stage. I followed her yelling, “Get away!”
We landed safely and soon Becky forgot all about Xtine and started chatting it up with someone about temp agencies. I took this opportunity to circulate and ask the question that I’d thought would be on everyone’s minds. “Dude, did you see the chick with the dick?” To which each person said, “Ha. Yep.”
“HA. YEP?”
“HA FUCKING YEP?????”
Oh I’m sorry…I thought people in Williamsburg were supposed to be judgmental.
A-parentltly not.
I have a theory on Chris. I don’t think it was ‘fo reals. I’m convinced that (s)he was writing an article for Vice. It’s like when Tyra wore the fat suit.
If not… beware, Christine is out there. And, he wants to be your friend. So be kind… but stand your ground. Don’t let him poke you with her pecker.
Ooooh! Do. Not. Let. Me. Stop. There! (S)he also had a chestnut brown wig with bangs that hung haphazardly from his head.
I had the extreme pleasure of encountering Miss. Xtine at actress, Desiree Burch’s birthday/show party at Galapagos Art Space on Friday night. This all sounds soooo deliciously pretentious. Don’t it? Yummy.
I was in the bathroom lining my lids with some MAC shadow as I am want to do. (Ahhh… the things I put myself through not to end-up a cat lady) and I heard a voice.
(EXTREME BARATONE) “Hi, I’m Christine.” It said. Then he moved in causing us to engage in a Mexican standoff for the mirror. Christine elbowed me out of the way and was flicking his wig in my face. With one lid lined, I hung tight. I didn’t screech, “Get the FUCK out of the woman’s room!!!!!!!!” Because I thought that he was transgender and I didn’t want to be insensitive. After all I’m a gigantic fag hag and the boys never give me shit in the men’s room at Splash. But I should have. One thing I do know is that a true Mary would never go out in mismatching lycra and knee highs. And, they’d never ever go out without tucking their dicks in.
Yes. Christine had a boner. It was thin and to my estimation about 4.5 inches. Apparently Christine is a shower not a grower.
Back at the party Christine escaped my mind. My gurl Becky Yamamoto and I were dancing like two nerds on acid. As we twirled and whirled, Christine approached, dick fully erect, sticking straight out yearning for attention. Becky saw him coming at us. Her razor sharp reflexes kicked into hyper-drive. She let out a blood-curtailing scream and ran to the stage. I followed her yelling, “Get away!”
We landed safely and soon Becky forgot all about Xtine and started chatting it up with someone about temp agencies. I took this opportunity to circulate and ask the question that I’d thought would be on everyone’s minds. “Dude, did you see the chick with the dick?” To which each person said, “Ha. Yep.”
“HA. YEP?”
“HA FUCKING YEP?????”
Oh I’m sorry…I thought people in Williamsburg were supposed to be judgmental.
A-parentltly not.
I have a theory on Chris. I don’t think it was ‘fo reals. I’m convinced that (s)he was writing an article for Vice. It’s like when Tyra wore the fat suit.
If not… beware, Christine is out there. And, he wants to be your friend. So be kind… but stand your ground. Don’t let him poke you with her pecker.
Monday, January 29, 2007
What's my weakness? Men!
Dear Penis-havers,
Awhile back (oooohh let's say a month or so ago) I posted about my new booming business, an escort service. I listed some handsome mens, I did. This caused my boy Matt Sears Forever to ask me to branch out and add some ladies into the repertoire. So (ooohhh let's say a month or so later) I've decided to oblige my friend.
Ladies.. can you come on out here?
Meet Sherry!
Being raised in Alabama, Sherry knows that a fine Southern woman keeps her mouth shut. She opens it only for french kisses and the occasional empty, disguarded box of Swanson's frozen dinners. She's an aries, boys which means she's relationship oriented and could use someone to pay off her car. Sounds like heaven in a handbasket!
Meet Patricia:
Most recently I've diversified my client base. I'd had it with catering to Wall Street tycoons. Are you creative? Yes? Well, I searched far and wide and found Patty here lying upon the Gates of Hell (In front of what used to be CBGB's) Patty was yelling, "I ain't going out like that!" Apparently. Advertising Art Directors, listen up! I gave Patty a rorschach test and she said, "I see a man and a woman in the kitchen of a large English tutor located in Amagansett. He's fondeling his diploma from Brown as she's recycling the latest Talbots catalog." I mean.......... usually people just say things like, "I see a butterfly." Call me STAT. She's so going, going, gone.
Here's Abby!
She may of hit menopause in the early 60's but that doesn't mean she's not a fra-eek in bed. Yum! Afterwards she'll tell you about the time she took a job at Desilu productions and let Fred Mertz finger bang her in Lucy's dressing room. She's got more where that came from.. two words: Mick Jagger.
Hi! Her name is Heidi!
I'll keep this brief:
Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Ho! (HINT, HINT)....invisalign and a waxy-poo and POOF, we've got a princess on our hands.
These ladies will go like hot cakes! Operative word: HOT.
Awhile back (oooohh let's say a month or so ago) I posted about my new booming business, an escort service. I listed some handsome mens, I did. This caused my boy Matt Sears Forever to ask me to branch out and add some ladies into the repertoire. So (ooohhh let's say a month or so later) I've decided to oblige my friend.
Ladies.. can you come on out here?
Meet Sherry!
Being raised in Alabama, Sherry knows that a fine Southern woman keeps her mouth shut. She opens it only for french kisses and the occasional empty, disguarded box of Swanson's frozen dinners. She's an aries, boys which means she's relationship oriented and could use someone to pay off her car. Sounds like heaven in a handbasket!
Meet Patricia:
Most recently I've diversified my client base. I'd had it with catering to Wall Street tycoons. Are you creative? Yes? Well, I searched far and wide and found Patty here lying upon the Gates of Hell (In front of what used to be CBGB's) Patty was yelling, "I ain't going out like that!" Apparently. Advertising Art Directors, listen up! I gave Patty a rorschach test and she said, "I see a man and a woman in the kitchen of a large English tutor located in Amagansett. He's fondeling his diploma from Brown as she's recycling the latest Talbots catalog." I mean.......... usually people just say things like, "I see a butterfly." Call me STAT. She's so going, going, gone.
Here's Abby!
She may of hit menopause in the early 60's but that doesn't mean she's not a fra-eek in bed. Yum! Afterwards she'll tell you about the time she took a job at Desilu productions and let Fred Mertz finger bang her in Lucy's dressing room. She's got more where that came from.. two words: Mick Jagger.
Hi! Her name is Heidi!
I'll keep this brief:
Heidi, Heidi, Heidi, Ho! (HINT, HINT)....
These ladies will go like hot cakes! Operative word: HOT.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Tap! Tap! Tap that keyboard, L STO.
Guess wha guys? Guess wha?
I'm going to be posting like a mad woman this year.
Even when I have nothing to say... I'll just write, "You know you want it"... hold you down on the mattress and read you my boring post.
It wouldn't be me per say that would posting everyday.... because my mood swings like a pendulum and I drink. But inside us all their lurks a Positive Polly that cooks, cleans and picks-up the kids from school. Polly doesn't admonish you for not being able to hold down a full time job. She's not a dream-crusher. She'll go to all your soccer games and cheer like Tom and Katie do at Tom's fake daughter's games. My Positive Polly is a little bland but she loves to blog! Oooohh does she! Her name is Sheila.
"Hey, Sheila! Why don't you come out here and give these guys an example of what my blog would be like if I posted each and every day."
OOOOOHHHH here she comes, clack, clack, clack! She's wearing heels!
"Why Sheila you look nice... you're the part of me that gets up, takes a shower gets dressed!"
e.g.
January 12th 2007:
Hi. It's raining outside but as I sit here waiting for a book deal and a byline I feel sunny inside! (Haha! Lianne told me to write that one!)
January 13th 2007:
Hi. So it's the 13th of January! Thank god it's not Friday LOL. Wow. I can't believe we're already two weeks into the new year!
January 14th 2007:
Hi. So today I saw one of those mini dogs in the Flatiron. It was head-to-paw in Burberry! I'm thinking of taking up karate!
January 15th 2007:
When I woke-up and heard that Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton were in a plane crash I could not believe it! It's too bad. And, all those crotch shots of them as they descended over a farm in Northern Idaho was really tacky. I don't know about you but I only like to see pussy if it's living!
"SHEILA!!!!!!!! SHE---- LA. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
I am so sorry. Looks like I'll be posting... well, sporadically or as much as I can... to quote Michelle Collins, "You can't burn a bitch out too young!"
I'm going to be posting like a mad woman this year.
Even when I have nothing to say... I'll just write, "You know you want it"... hold you down on the mattress and read you my boring post.
It wouldn't be me per say that would posting everyday.... because my mood swings like a pendulum and I drink. But inside us all their lurks a Positive Polly that cooks, cleans and picks-up the kids from school. Polly doesn't admonish you for not being able to hold down a full time job. She's not a dream-crusher. She'll go to all your soccer games and cheer like Tom and Katie do at Tom's fake daughter's games. My Positive Polly is a little bland but she loves to blog! Oooohh does she! Her name is Sheila.
"Hey, Sheila! Why don't you come out here and give these guys an example of what my blog would be like if I posted each and every day."
OOOOOHHHH here she comes, clack, clack, clack! She's wearing heels!
"Why Sheila you look nice... you're the part of me that gets up, takes a shower gets dressed!"
e.g.
January 12th 2007:
Hi. It's raining outside but as I sit here waiting for a book deal and a byline I feel sunny inside! (Haha! Lianne told me to write that one!)
January 13th 2007:
Hi. So it's the 13th of January! Thank god it's not Friday LOL. Wow. I can't believe we're already two weeks into the new year!
January 14th 2007:
Hi. So today I saw one of those mini dogs in the Flatiron. It was head-to-paw in Burberry! I'm thinking of taking up karate!
January 15th 2007:
When I woke-up and heard that Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton were in a plane crash I could not believe it! It's too bad. And, all those crotch shots of them as they descended over a farm in Northern Idaho was really tacky. I don't know about you but I only like to see pussy if it's living!
"SHEILA!!!!!!!! SHE---- LA. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
I am so sorry. Looks like I'll be posting... well, sporadically or as much as I can... to quote Michelle Collins, "You can't burn a bitch out too young!"
Friday, December 01, 2006
New Yawk, I'm screwing Laguna now.
Who's that NY? Oooooh some dirty slut with sandy beaches and a pungent for obnoxiously entertaining high school cats whose parents named them things like "Tessa" and "Cami" with zero sense of irony. That's who, boo!
As of December 11th (which is incidentally my disappointed grandmother's 86th bday) I am hopping on the Wright Brother's invention and landing in SoCal to work on a short-term freelance copywriting assignment in Irvine, CA. The lovely people that are rescuing me from the bread line also are putting me up in a Hotel in LAGUNA FUKKIN' BEACH! Just last week I was glued to the boob-tube yelling, "Rocky! watch out Cami's behind you holding a 400 dollar pair of cut-offs and a pointing a knife in your back!!" And now. NOW I get to "live" there for two whole weeks.
Future quote:
"Oh I'm sorry I couldn't write the script it's just that a seagull just flew through the window and took a dump on my desk."
---Lianne Stokes
YUM!
Now.. now.. ya'll are all thinking, "Great Stokes, don't let the door hit you in the ass.." I know.. I can take it. But let's take a moment and re-cap some adventures shall we? New York is the alleged cultural hub of humanity a place where someone from a cotton gin in (wherever cotton gins are) can come and soak it up. We are all dogs that hump and sniff New York's ass aren't we? A moment of reflection please!
CUE-UP THE HIGHLIGHT REEL, SIR:
January 2000: Get so drunk in Murray Hill after being rejected by a co-worker that I "Can't remember" where I live and sleep in my office... on a stranger's cubicle floor. Hey thanks, Mark Robbin's Jr. Media Planner- your floor was mad cushy- Plus, your putting me up for the night afforded me to riffle through the dick's office that turned me down.. where I read his diary and stole his autographed copy of "Who Moved my Cheese?" In it's place I left a post-it that read, "I did."
Sometime in what I think was 2002. A Creative Director was fired and had a "going away party" at Turtle Bay. Not the main Turtle Bay Bar and Grille but the seedy dive in the East 40's. A Polaroid camera was there. Co-workers were all taking "arty" pics of themselves and making a collage. The pictures were labeled: "Stephanie being pensive." and "Lori and Leslie laughing." I some how some way ended-up going into the bathroom and taking a picture of my bare breasts. I bound out of the bathroom with my Polaroid labeled: "My tits." An art director took a pic of his bare ass and we called the series "Tits and ass."
AHHHHHH.. advertising.
April 2001: Go to a bday roller skating party at The Roxy. Fall several times. The last time resulted in my wiping out so badly that three staff members rolled over wearing black and white referee shirt and blowing whistles to clear the area so they could air-lift me out. I had to go home and sleep with a bag of peas on my coxic bone.
August 2001: Get crunk at a bday party on the rooftop of "Sutton Place" (I know... I know) and get "locked out" of my place on the Upper East Side. ONCE again sleep in the office. This time on my boss, Sallie's couch. UPGRADE!
****The next day I manage to get into the place.. and get locked IN. As in the door was stuck and I now couldn't get out. My roommate had moved out along with our landline. I also LOST my Motorola StarTac ('member those) and had no mode of communocato. This resulted in (and I kid you not) me panicking and screaming out my bedroom window, "Help I'm locked in my apartment!" My window backed another brownstone and no one came to my rescue.
The entire 2002: I got fat and didn't know it. My Seven's still fit and I couldn't figure out why when I puckered-up and winked NO ONE was into it. this resulted in my attending Weight Watchers meetings with a slew of co-workers. I blamed it on 9/11 but think I can trace it back to eating Cheetos after a night of heavy boozing or two.
April 2003: Acquire gay boyfriend (as in guy who made out with me but was gay) e.g. "Oooohhhhh HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII Liannnnnnnnne." he was hiding in the closet with the lights on- the door open and was holding a sign that read, "I LIKE MEN!" I met him while interning at an Improv theater and he wrote for a "Television Variety show" located at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. He was so quirky gay. That's why I was into him. He hung plastic grapevines on his ceiling and when I noticed said, "Ooohhh I see you've found my grotto." He also gave board games as wedding presents to his friends.. citing: "Everyone LOVES board games." Ain't that the truth? Told someone that I wasn't "his type" in the end. Hate to repeat moiself but: AIN"T THAT THE TRUTH.
November 2004: Went through a phase where I "tried my hand at Real estate." 'cause really.. who hasn't!? Lucked out and got one of Diddy's producer's as a client. However, Dids produce was "too bizy" to look at places and had his friend on the prowl. The friend wanted to make sure I knew he was successful constantly saying, "I am no joke." Great! Well, that makes one of us. Once sat at The Coffee Shop with a table full of them as they told some aspiring guy, "Usher wants you to conduct his orchestra he thinks you are no joke." I ended-up putting them in the Olsen twins building in the West Village. Telling them, "Mary Kate and Ashley are renovating the entire top floor." Ash and MK never moved in. OOOPPS!
July 2005: Got to attend Carolyn's baby shower in Spa Ha (Spanish Harlem) hosted by two fab gays that had an outdoor garden. Oh.. also got so drunk I threw-up and was photographed on the bathroom floor with a rose in my hair. Later that night I ended-up in an El Bario cab service munching on a series of rolls and assorted baked goods to "sober-up." I believe I also showed-up without a gift.
Ready Laguna Beach? I am! Oh.. and Cami... text me STAT.
As of December 11th (which is incidentally my disappointed grandmother's 86th bday) I am hopping on the Wright Brother's invention and landing in SoCal to work on a short-term freelance copywriting assignment in Irvine, CA. The lovely people that are rescuing me from the bread line also are putting me up in a Hotel in LAGUNA FUKKIN' BEACH! Just last week I was glued to the boob-tube yelling, "Rocky! watch out Cami's behind you holding a 400 dollar pair of cut-offs and a pointing a knife in your back!!" And now. NOW I get to "live" there for two whole weeks.
Future quote:
"Oh I'm sorry I couldn't write the script it's just that a seagull just flew through the window and took a dump on my desk."
---Lianne Stokes
YUM!
Now.. now.. ya'll are all thinking, "Great Stokes, don't let the door hit you in the ass.." I know.. I can take it. But let's take a moment and re-cap some adventures shall we? New York is the alleged cultural hub of humanity a place where someone from a cotton gin in (wherever cotton gins are) can come and soak it up. We are all dogs that hump and sniff New York's ass aren't we? A moment of reflection please!
CUE-UP THE HIGHLIGHT REEL, SIR:
January 2000: Get so drunk in Murray Hill after being rejected by a co-worker that I "Can't remember" where I live and sleep in my office... on a stranger's cubicle floor. Hey thanks, Mark Robbin's Jr. Media Planner- your floor was mad cushy- Plus, your putting me up for the night afforded me to riffle through the dick's office that turned me down.. where I read his diary and stole his autographed copy of "Who Moved my Cheese?" In it's place I left a post-it that read, "I did."
Sometime in what I think was 2002. A Creative Director was fired and had a "going away party" at Turtle Bay. Not the main Turtle Bay Bar and Grille but the seedy dive in the East 40's. A Polaroid camera was there. Co-workers were all taking "arty" pics of themselves and making a collage. The pictures were labeled: "Stephanie being pensive." and "Lori and Leslie laughing." I some how some way ended-up going into the bathroom and taking a picture of my bare breasts. I bound out of the bathroom with my Polaroid labeled: "My tits." An art director took a pic of his bare ass and we called the series "Tits and ass."
AHHHHHH.. advertising.
April 2001: Go to a bday roller skating party at The Roxy. Fall several times. The last time resulted in my wiping out so badly that three staff members rolled over wearing black and white referee shirt and blowing whistles to clear the area so they could air-lift me out. I had to go home and sleep with a bag of peas on my coxic bone.
August 2001: Get crunk at a bday party on the rooftop of "Sutton Place" (I know... I know) and get "locked out" of my place on the Upper East Side. ONCE again sleep in the office. This time on my boss, Sallie's couch. UPGRADE!
****The next day I manage to get into the place.. and get locked IN. As in the door was stuck and I now couldn't get out. My roommate had moved out along with our landline. I also LOST my Motorola StarTac ('member those) and had no mode of communocato. This resulted in (and I kid you not) me panicking and screaming out my bedroom window, "Help I'm locked in my apartment!" My window backed another brownstone and no one came to my rescue.
The entire 2002: I got fat and didn't know it. My Seven's still fit and I couldn't figure out why when I puckered-up and winked NO ONE was into it. this resulted in my attending Weight Watchers meetings with a slew of co-workers. I blamed it on 9/11 but think I can trace it back to eating Cheetos after a night of heavy boozing or two.
April 2003: Acquire gay boyfriend (as in guy who made out with me but was gay) e.g. "Oooohhhhh HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII Liannnnnnnnne." he was hiding in the closet with the lights on- the door open and was holding a sign that read, "I LIKE MEN!" I met him while interning at an Improv theater and he wrote for a "Television Variety show" located at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. He was so quirky gay. That's why I was into him. He hung plastic grapevines on his ceiling and when I noticed said, "Ooohhh I see you've found my grotto." He also gave board games as wedding presents to his friends.. citing: "Everyone LOVES board games." Ain't that the truth? Told someone that I wasn't "his type" in the end. Hate to repeat moiself but: AIN"T THAT THE TRUTH.
November 2004: Went through a phase where I "tried my hand at Real estate." 'cause really.. who hasn't!? Lucked out and got one of Diddy's producer's as a client. However, Dids produce was "too bizy" to look at places and had his friend on the prowl. The friend wanted to make sure I knew he was successful constantly saying, "I am no joke." Great! Well, that makes one of us. Once sat at The Coffee Shop with a table full of them as they told some aspiring guy, "Usher wants you to conduct his orchestra he thinks you are no joke." I ended-up putting them in the Olsen twins building in the West Village. Telling them, "Mary Kate and Ashley are renovating the entire top floor." Ash and MK never moved in. OOOPPS!
July 2005: Got to attend Carolyn's baby shower in Spa Ha (Spanish Harlem) hosted by two fab gays that had an outdoor garden. Oh.. also got so drunk I threw-up and was photographed on the bathroom floor with a rose in my hair. Later that night I ended-up in an El Bario cab service munching on a series of rolls and assorted baked goods to "sober-up." I believe I also showed-up without a gift.
Ready Laguna Beach? I am! Oh.. and Cami... text me STAT.
