I meant to post this yesterday, but do to a confusing ’situation’ with a wireless mouse, I locked myself out of the computer I was using. Gift horses. Here one minute, gone the next.
So - as I was saying…
I Disgust Me.
I hadn’t had a drink in a couple of days, which in New York, can seem like a year. After Wed. night, I understand why. There are lots of examples that I can give of my, if not vile, than approaching vile, behavior; so here are some of the hazy details I remember from Wednesday evening. They might not disgust you at all, and they probably won’t. But that’s because I’m only telling you what I want to tell you. If I told you more, than this would be titled “You Disgust Me” or “I Disgust You” depending on who was doing the speaking.
Just love me anyway.
I know I left the Scores party for the Gentlemen’s Club Championship around 9:30PM. I know I met Lonnie, the owner of Scores and I had a conversation with Ron Jeremy, who I’ve worked with a few times now and I ‘ve finally decided to prove this by getting a picture with him. That’s disgusting in and of itself, but what’s even worse is that Ron, who sat across from me at a meeting and took orders from me at the taping, had no fucking idea who I was. He even asked how I was involved in this whole thing! We worked together not once, not twice but three times – remember the AVNs Ron?
Of course not. You smelly pornstar. I don’t know how often he showers but it’s not as often as he should. Still the man sees more pussy than most people will see in three or four lifetimes so he must be doing something right - or wrong - depending on how much pussy you want to see.
Okay, enough about Ron. If for every time Ron talked about himself we gave a penny to a local charity to house the homeless, I don’t think there would be a single homeless person in all of the country. Maybe even the world. So I don’t need to talk about him anymore. Besides I think he disgusts me, just like I disgust me.
So then I go to this party at the Coral Room on 29th St. I should backtrack for a second, two weeks ago at another party for the same group of people, I started speaking to a man I found very attractive. I got pretty drunk, which was the last time I got drunk – maybe I should stop attending these parties since I always seem to get drunk at them, hmmm?, and anyway, I decided that tonight would be the night that I made my move.
So I get to this party, and first off, I’m invited to model in a fashion show - which is really cool. That’s all thanks to my friend Abby Ehmann who threw this party and some other rocking parties. In fact, I’m reading - don’t ask me what yet - at her next party on Thursday the 27th at Arlene’s Grocery.
So I modeled in this fashion show..which isn’t disgusting at all, actually I had a blast and can now add model to my resume. And then, I don’t know what happened, but you know when you just reach your limit and all of a sudden you can’t handle your alcohol. Well, that’s what happened to me, which is why I disgust me more than you might think one should be disgusted in this situation. I was harrassing the man I liked because he said he didn’t date people in his circle, and somehow, now I am in that circle - and then, in the middle of talking to him, I said I’d be right back and walked away. For like 20 mintues I kept telling him I had a crush on him, and what amounted to a small crush, turned into a huge obsessoin by the time I stopped drinking. I’m leaving out a lot now, only because I want to post this thing today, but yes, in the middle of a conversation, I walked away, dumb ass drunk, and never returned. I even took his watergun, and only found it the next morning, on the floor by my bed.
Instead of returning, I got in a cab, where the cabdriver asked me not to throw up in the cab, which just for the record, I didn’t. In fact, I didn’t start projectile vomiting until the next morning when I was supposed to go visit my grandfather who just returned from the hospital. And because of said puke, I had to cancel my trip to my grandparents and nurse a hangover. Now, that disgusts me. And I also remember that my doorman, the one currently stalking me, followed me up to my apt. just to make sure I was allright. I don’t even think I locked the door that night..cause, yes, I can be that stupidly drunk.
So drinking makes me angry at me. But I hate when you go out and don’t drink, because everyone who is drinking gets really annoying rather quickly. So I’ll have to find that happy medium. And until then, I’ll just continue to bitch about it.