fergie's Diaryland Diary
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NYE
Kitty Sleuthing
Miss Chaos Kitty and I officially moved into our new West Hollywood home yesterday afternoon. The poor little fuzz ball was so disoriented by our last move that I tried to make this transition easier for her.
Last time, I moved her first and kept her locked in the bathroom all day so she wouldn't run out and get lost while we were getting everything in the place. Once I let her out, she totally freaked. She ran at manic speed into the living room, then realized she didn't know where the hell she was, and ran back into the bathroom. It took her awhile to come back out on her own.
This time, everything was set up before she made the journey, and she was immediately released into her new surroundings; her favorite food was waiting in her deluxe extra-large bowl (she usually eats out of a single serving dish to maintain her girlish figure but she loves to pig out); a brand new kitty litter box with the latest innovative kitty design (a modern globe shape rather than big bulky box) ... and yet as predicted I couldn't find the little bitch for most of the evening. She's still running around here somewhere, crawling around on things and rubbing her face on stuff.
She will likely stay mostly out of sight until coming to terms with the whole ordeal.
Anyway, my hand hurts from moving furniture yesterday and I don't feel like typing anymore. All the best in the New Year, dear readers.
4:24 p.m. - Dec. 31, 2006
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timeless
Timeless
As the year draws to a close, basically everyone on the planet decides to slack off and pass the time by churning out an annual "best and worst of" list ... it's not such a bad thing, and being a so-called news editor myself I recognize that looking back at the year in review serves a dual purpose:
1)-To pause and reflect on what has passed
2)-A rather effortless way to end the year by recycling old content -- nobody is paying enough attention to notice the difference anyway
AP-AOL conducted a survey to name the heroes and villains of 2006. President Bush topped each list. They claim it is a "sign of these polarized times" but in actuality is a sad reminder of the dichotomy that is the human condition. We are all beautiful, yet tragic creatures with the capacity and complete willingness to create and destroy life.
I wouldn't mind doing my own official best and worst list of 2006, but I'm not exactly sure what the topic would be, per se. For example, I hardly ever write about movies or TV, so listing my favorite shows of the year would be oddly out of character. This isn't a celebrity gossip blog or fan site, nor do I generally post about political happenings except to occasionally suggest that everyone in office is doing a real shit job and next time we should vote to downsize congress.
When it comes down to it, the purpose of my blog is not to relate the intimate details of my personal life but to instead convey my light-hearted contempt for the world I live in.
So I'm going to think on that list and get back to you, dear readers.
In contrast, there are some things that transcend time, that never get old and can be appreciated in any day and age. Music is one of those "timeless" things.
Many years ago, a group called Army of Lovers crafted what is perhaps the most stylishly campy music video of all time. It is the video for their international hit single "Crucify" -- the final product, according to Wikipedia, has "earned a widespread iconic status in gay culture, often referred to as a perfect example of the postmodern take on the ideals of camp."
It may not be one of "the best" songs ever recorded and the video certainly isn't anywhere near "subtle," but no matter how many times I watch this clip, it just never gets old.
1:34 p.m. - Dec. 28, 2006
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xxxmas
Swell Mate & the White Elephant
A couple of my good girlfriends threw a white elephant gift exchange at their place and, as ever, it was my duty to contribute something dirty. This particular duty wasn't stated directly or even slyly suggested by the hosts as much as it was implied merely by putting my name on the guest list.
I settled on a device called the Swell Mate, which was an average sized butt plug ("average" meaning huge), and on the bottom of the plug there was a little tube attached to a hand pump that, once inserted, could be used to inflate the other end.
The sex toy market never fails to produce some amazing technology. Bum too tight? Boy, have they got a product for you!
I was hedging on the gift in lieu of something, oh I don't know, less vulgar. That was until I saw an evite reply from our buddy TallGuy who said he would attend but added some snide comment about getting a bunch of sex toys for his birthday last month and blah blah something else. What I don't know, but I didn't need to read any further. That clinched it; I could no more resist bringing the inflatable butt plug than write about it without using these cheeky butt-related puns.
I wrapped up the little Swell Mate and put the entire affair out of my mind. With moving and everything else my attention quickly turned elsewhere. The night of the party, this is exactly how it all went down: The time came to open gifts, TallGuy drew first pick. He chose the Swell Mate, which by the way I had wrapped in Sesame Street themed holiday wrapping paper.
It was a Christmas with come true. Not his, of course, but mine.
Inflatable butt plug: $35
The look on his face: priceless
The lady who lives directly below me must have gotten a new puppy for Christmas. The damn thing has been howling for the past hour and a half. I won't be missing that skank or her pot-bellied, stained tank top wearing baby daddy when I'm in my new place.
...And to all a good night!
11:12 p.m. - Dec. 24, 2006
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ssssmoving
Last night I packed up my first carload of stuff to move into my new place. And so, of course, it's raining today. I mean, what could be more fun that lugging soggy boxes around?
I'm choosing to ignore the crappity weather conditions and instead focus on my how rather amazing it is that I didn�t procrastinate until the very last possible second before I started packing.
Next Saturday -- days, days! before my goal to move before the New Year -- I load all the big stuff in a rental truck and I'm an official WeHo Queen. I get a tiara and everything.
This Chappelle skit pretty much sums up my experience with customer service while trying to reserve a u-haul:
"The next time you think about treating a customer with respect, just remember, fuck 'em!"
###
The news room is a skeleton crew due to the holidays and since we get paid to watch TV anyway, we were all making fun of some reporter guy�s fagcent on the news. He kept saying "Miss USA scandal" and I laughed so hard I peed a little. This prompted one of my coworkers to pose the question, 'Why do gay guys talk like that?' And I'm all like, ssstop it, we ssso don't talk like that, misssssssssssy!
Except, I kind of do, even when I'm not trying.
As a child I was treated for a so-called speech impediment but in reality I was just super queer even at age 5.
Sibilance: over-articulation of the "s" sound, characterized by hissing.
Does the word that defines this commonly-mocked speech pattern have to contain the very sound it describes? Fucking hell yes it does! Funny is even funnier when it's cruel. And if you notice, the hard consonant "s" sound isn't just once; it's a double whammy with the "ce" at the end. Fucking bastard creators of the English language.
7:21 a.m. - Dec. 22, 2006
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bizarro
Bizarro Me
Here in Hollywood, the talk of the town is the unusually crisp winter and the possibility of snow this season. Seriously, this is not a drill people. It's as cold here today in Cali as it is on the East Coast, no exaggeration.
The drastic drop in temperature has already killed many Angelinos who were simply unable to adjust to wearing the required layers of clothing to protect them from the cold. Beach babes are dropping like houseflies. Shoppers have frozen to death clutching their designer branded bags up and down Rodeo Drive.
I've managed to survive by trading my 2xist Y-back thongs for boxers. Not silk or see-thru or even a Lycra blend, but thick cotton. Instead of sandals I'm wearing boots. My normally body-clinging tops have been forced under long-sleeve shirts, which poke out from under a hoodie or sweater. I look like a strange, bizarro world version of myself -- a fat breeder from the mid-west.
9:26 a.m. - Dec. 19, 2006
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snowflake
The Beat Goes On
The quotes about suicide I posted this week inspire me to keep the proper perspective on life. Everybody got issues. No reason to quit the race.
Anyway, we can let a little personal tragedy get in the way of our fun, now can we dear readers?
The pressing issue of the moment is that I'm quickly running out of time for this year�s holiday card.
I don't really do a lot of traditional holiday things, except cards and the eating of food part. That's the good stuff. Friends and family that I can�t be with on the holidays are close to my heart, like always.
Santa brings me a little something each year but otherwise I'm not committed to the whole gift exchange thing. There are just a lot of wonderful people in my life for whom it would bankrupt me to buy presents for all.
Of course I have no objection to receiving gifts. Money is always nice, if not preferred. I mean why not give me some money? I'm totally cute.
And that cuteness is something I plan to play up for this year's holiday card.
While I'm sure it would be completely inappropriate to feature myself wearing nothing but a Santa hat covering my naughty bits, that's the direction I'm moving in.
Even more risqu�, I could rent a midget and have them wear an elf costume. Sans Santa hat, I'd pose au naturel with the elf standing just far enough in the foreground to cover my naughty bits.
If I wanted to be a little controversial this year, I could use this photo from a shoot I did naked on a cross with some other dude: 
Or you know, maybe some lovely snowflake stationary. Covering my naughty bits.
5:42 p.m. - Dec. 14, 2006
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life
"I think a person should have a right to end their life if they want, but I think it would be a great mistake. However bad life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. While there is life, there is hope."
--Renowned physicist STEPHEN HAWKING, whose speech and mobility are limited to a voice synthesizer and wheelchair due to Lou Gehrig's disease.
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.
--Celebrated author DOROTHY PARKER, easily one of the most accomplished and successful writers of the 1900's, who suffered from depression and alcoholism her entire adult life.
9:17 a.m. - Dec. 12, 2006
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purge
Got me working day and night ... well, afternoon through early evening.
I spent six hours clearing clutter out of my room, prepping for my move at the end of the month. Several extra-large garbage bags later, it's almost possible to tell a difference. The worst part is I still can't force myself to throw out a bunch of junk.
There is the sentimental memories of past lovers pile (cards, pictures, etc -- plus all the birthday and holiday cards I've received since moving to L.A.), an odds and ends pile of stuff that goes with other stuff I haven't found yet, the obligatory pile of old mixed tapes and dusty CDs, a pile of sparkly gift boxes and tissue paper I swear I'm going to recycle this year. Just. Can't. Throw. Things. Away.
6:54 p.m. - Dec. 10, 2006
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FFF
F.F.F.
As the lovely Rumble Lizard would say, FINALLY FUCKING FRIDAY!
ps-I'd link the Liz but her diary is locked
As mentioned in my last post, this week has been craptacular. Emotionally, it's been like having my head lopped off and served on a plate made out of dynamite. The initial pain is terrible, yes, but it promises to get explosive and messy. Without elaborating, my rather cryptic comments led Lambert to inquire if I'd gotten mugged. At first, I misread her comment and thought she was asking if I had been muggled, which I guess in Harry Potter terms would mean getting trampled by large group of non-magical people or something.
Anyway, I know that doesn't go on to explain the situation or add any further details about the shit storm that is my life, but I thought it was a rather funny misunderstanding on my part and from now on I'm going to start using the phrase "You've been muggled!" whenever someone gets totally fucked over without the use of witchcraft.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to get back into regularly updating my links page. This month (so far): Hot wine, Doin' it doggy style, Hollywood retail happenings and Mr. Ass.
1:27 p.m. - Dec. 08, 2006
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sad news
Sad News
I've had my ass handed to me this week and it's only Wednesday. It isn't like a literal beat down, as though somebody jumped me on the street and physically pelted the hell out of me, so don't worry I'm still beautiful.
I'm trying to find the humor in my pain. Until then, here are some poor fools who have it far worse then I.
Man Fakes Retardation for 20 yrs, busted by traffic ticket
After faking a severe mental disability, one that supposedly rendered him unable to drive in the first place, this fuckwit pseudotard blew an elaborate disability benefits scam that spanned nearly twenty years by contesting a traffic ticket. With an appearance in court, no less!
Woman farts on plane, flight grounded
This poor chick tried to cover her "body odor" by lighting matches. On a plane. No surprise, passengers detected the distinct odor of sulfur and the plane made an emergency landing -- because new millennium rules for airplanes dictate that any unusual activity must signify a bomb is on board. Unless a bomb is actually on board. In those cases, you're warned of danger by the explosion.
MTA bans smelly bus ads in SF
New bus shelter 'Got Milk' ads smell just like baked cookies, bus riders complain aroma might not be safe. Don't ask me how people that wade amongst congested traffic inhaling toxic exhaust fumes have been able to maintain their olfactory, but I can say with certainty that only a mentally deranged person would complain about the smell of cookies.
12:52 p.m. - Dec. 06, 2006
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ho-ho-homocide
'Tis the Season for Ho-ho-homicide
This month is going to be the usual Hollywood Holiday nightmare, which means the joy of shopping is ruined for everyone, even in Beverly Hills. It's not the cheeky sentiment or forced religious undertones or even the obligatory white elephant gift party, but the annoying grumpy trolls who shop in tempered packs this time of year that destroy every ounce of shopping goodness.
These are the people who return items the same day, hold long register lines with discounts inquiries over miniscule quality defects and determine if they really want to purchase each and every single item as it is scanned at the check-out. I know the holidays are about peace on earth and good will towards others, but I want these people dead.
I'm keeping my distance from everything mall and box-store related, least I'm tempted to kill. Again.
This month also holds something new and exciting -- I'm preparing to move into a swanky apartment in the heart of West Hollywood. Over the next few weeks, I have six years of crap piled up in my current place and no idea how to begin sorting through it. I want my new environment to be a crisp, clean and minimalist living space.
My current situation is pretty much the exact opposite; that of a disorganized packrat. I still have the boxes my dishes came in, old shoe boxes, the box from the cell phone I bought in March, boxes of files from my last three jobs, old gift boxes stuffed with tissue paper and gift bags my a birthday party several years ago. And that's just the beginning; there's a stack of magazines and fag rags that go back to at least 2004. Basically, I'm not just moving; I'm creating a living space for a completely different person. Bottom line: I have to get rid of all my junk.
Throwing it into a pile and lighting a match comes to mind as a solution, in fact I don't see how that plan could possibly go wrong.
1:23 p.m. - Dec. 04, 2006
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Dec.06
December brings scarf weather to SoCal
2:34 p.m. - Dec. 01, 2006
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