Dating Men, Friends, Activity Partners

Jun 2003

The Riddle Box

www.realultimatepower.net

http://profiles.friendster.com/781623

I was the girl in nursery school who told all the other children that Santa wasn't real. Subsequently marked with the Scarlet Letter of pre-K, (see-"Does not play well with others), I have worn my designation with pride ever since. I also graduated from the prison of NYU with honors having never purchased a text book and rarely attending class. But you already knew I was a dumb blonde.

topic of conversation, priapism

http://www.smithappens.com/video_tradingspouses.php

"clumsy latin-lover bits", the ever-elusive mamey sapote, Tyra mail, reckless assault with depraved indifference, Madam Alex's see-through muumuu, Sex as a Weapon, PrettyVegas, photo booths, ripped denim, birthday cake for lunch, Le Bel Age, rhinestone adidas, en sushi fusion, tweezerman, forensic psychology, Aligula, chewybars

Both a copy of the Kabbalah and Heidi Fleiss's "Pandering" manifesto currently grace my (stolen) night table. Also, DISCO BLOODBATH, The Bell Jar, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, The Heart is Decietful Above All Things, Flowers in the Attic, and David Ray's memoirs.

"FILTH MATRIX", "Meet The Feebles", "Gia", and the home video where I chastise my sister to the point of such frustration that she falls off her swing and it smacks her upside the head. Cackling I ask "Was that funny, Mom?" "NO!" mom scolds.

Madonna(pre-Esther), Lisa Marie Presley, Eminem, Depeche Mode, Ima Robot, Amanda Rushing, Def Leppard, DickMarx, Prince, Pink, Xtina, Monster Ballads, Ludakris, Pat Benetar, George Michael, Roxette, INXS, ICP, Elton John, Wesley Willis, Tears for Fears, ASS COBRA, Kelli-Rae Hoyt, Kid Creole the Hatian Hero/ Coati Mundi

Other than my imminent own? House, Reunion, America's Next Top Model, The Cut, The Simple Life, American Idol, Howard Stern, Forensic Files, 90210, Saved By The Bell, Full House, Leiff Garret- Behind the Music (priceless), The Anna Nicole Show

I have some very big balls for a very little girl.

Nothing bores me more than mediocrity: I take my tea burning hot, have a flair for wasabi, and am loyal to a fault. Problematic is the unalienable fact that, by definition, most things in life are mediocre. Subsequently, most things in life bore me.

I'd rather walk through a fire than around it. I want to take the pills that Paula takes. I want to be Pocahontas in Gary's vision.

I am convinced that Charlie Bucket is homosexual, and so is his love interest, Grandpa Joe.

I am sickened by bitches who try to mask their musk by dousing in Bath and Bodyworks AssSpray. Who in their right mind would volunteer to smell like a "Cucumber Melon"?!

I don't wait in line and I dont do buses.

I have a "redundant" colon. I want to be "treated" by Dr. House. Nude.

I miss New York.

So bereft of NYC was I that it lead to compulsions to illegally aquire a New York Subway Map Shower Curtian by purchasing books with a bogus gift certificate from Barnes and Nobles, scratching their sticker squews off, returning them under the guise of "unsatisfactory gifts" at Urban Outfitters, and upgrading the second hand contraband to aquire the masterpiece now hanging in my bathroom. I love that when people sit atop my porcelin thrown and do their deeds they can look at all New York has to offer, and I feel that such an instance provides the perfact paradigm for what a NYC subway ride is really like.

I like extra avocado and tomato on my salad, a speckling of sweet potato chips, and my dressing on the side. I take my water with lemon and no ice. I eat sushi with a fork and knife. I hate paprika.

Suppossedly, I am "High Maintenence" but soon enough I will be increasingly excused for my seemingly outlandish behavior. Until then, "I am under contract and no longer at liberty to disclose such information."

"Quod me nutrit me detruit." (ie: I have defeated the evil bean)

The only bush I trust is my own

I have already met my Mother, who, recognizing herself in my gap-toothed bravado, stood up at will and embraced me. And my sister, who smiled at me against her will.

Until recently, I would have answered with a self-assured "Heidi Fleiss". However, due to an unsettling recent run-in with The X Madame where she took off her purple sweppenns with her clubbed hoof and asked me to don them on Cahuenga for her, I must recant this desire.

And so for now, I would like to Meet the Money, Jonathan Cauoette, Vladimir Arutyunov, and someone who will brandish a mamey sapote at my tepid whim.

Also- the man who launched a grenade at Bush and the woman who barred Oprah from Hermes.