Rules about underpants

Gus says it's not "appropriate" for me to sit around in the house in my underwear. Like for instants, right now, I'm sitting in the media room in a T-shirt and my underpants. I don't understand what the problem is. He made me leave the kitchen where I was sitting on one of the barstools, drinking coffee and talking to him about last night.

OH! I just had an awesome comeback come to me. I just now went back into the kitchen and I go, "I bet it's ok with you when I sign your paychecks in my underpants." He just looked at me and goes, "Don't even talk like that, you don't sign nothing." GAWD that pissed me off. Because he's right, of course, I don't sign his checks. It's a computer in New York or somewhere.

So anyway, he made me a egg because I woke up starving because I forgot to eat dinner last night. Which reminds me, you know what's gross? Drinking a beer, then chewing gum and then coming home to The Compound and drinking milk. I can't recommend that because it was nasty. Which is weird because beer is good, gum is awesome and milk is good too. You would think it wouldn't be gross together but it seriously is. So I forgot to have dinner last night and I woke up with a headache and now Gus is being weird but my egg was awesome.

I went out with one of my favorite fans last night. He's really funny and good-looking, so at least that part was fun. The only thing wrong with him is that he's super-smart, even smarter than me. Most of the time I have no clue what he's talking about so I try to look smart and really thoughtful. Last night, I was totally thinking how awesome my black patent leather peeptoe pumps are and then I realized he asked me something I needed to answer and that was a little awkward. Luckily, he spent most of the night staring at my boobs, so it all worked out!

Can you really have too many gays?

I think all my fans and friends know how much the gays love me and I am all super-gay-friendly, but seriously yesterday was a little too gay, even for me. I had an interview over lunch with a semi-famous gossip-blogger that I know you all know. He's hilarious and I totes love him. Sometimes, when I'm mad at someone I like to call him and give him tips. The best thing about him, besides being hilarious, is that he tells everything! I mean everything, stuff he doesn't even publish! I love to hear who all's going to rehab and making plea-bargains and crap like that. He's the bomb.

Then I had dinner with three of my favorite gays at the cutest place but there was a lot of "Oh LAWD"ing going on. Also "HOKAYS". I had a very cute drink that might be my new signature beverage for the spring: Pomegranate Cosmo. Awesome! Anyway, I was on my way back to The Compound and I was thinking about how you can actually have too many gays and how the only person there who was talking about stuff I would want to write about is actually a straight girl and she told me I can't write about her because it would cause "too many problems" for her and I know lawsuit-speak when I hear it. So I'm not going to write about what a whore she used to be. That's too bad, too, because it's some good crap. Maybe I'll just call my gossip friend and tell him although he won't care because she's not even famous.

What was I talking about? Oh yea, all the gays. There were gays at the next table who were DYING that we were there and taking our pictures and falling all over themselves. That was boring. Early on, there was a table of two gays and a ugly woman and they weren't even trying to pretend they weren't DYING we were there and they were just staring at us and listening to every stupid thing we were saying. That was super-boring. Then at some point in the dinner, I guess the birthday boy was mad that his presents weren't better because he took out his phone and started reading his texts. That was the most boringest thing I have ever had to listen to in my whole entire life. At first we were all being polite and pretending to care, but then after like 20 minutes I started going, "This game is boring. Let's play a new game." Even Squirrel was agreeing with me and he has to be nice! But the birthday boy just kept on, so I started telling a story to Squirrel and Squirrel's friend and then it got super-ugly because Phone-Boy got mad that we weren't paying attention to him and there was some slapping between me and him and maybe some sparkling wine might have gotten thrown. I'm pretty sure there were some pictures taken and not by his cell phone so I'm just waiting for a call from Daddy's lawyers. They totes told me to keep a low profile while the suit over the Oscar-blogging is going on and I've been seriously trying, but it is hard, you guys! Especially when someone is pouting!

Then I got back to The Compound and Knute was pouting because I didn't take him along but Edgar says I need to establish some boundaries with him which is going to be hard since he does all my waxing.

Wait, what? Part 2

Holy crap, that ugly girl is back on the TV. I think that might be all that's on. Ever. I don't know why that ugly girl is wearing a scarf on her head all the time. I haven't seen that on the runways or in any of the trend reports, so I'm definitely not going to bother buying any scarfs. Plus that girl is totes wearing a girdle and there is no way I'm wearing a girdle. I mean, it's not like I need one, I don't think.

I just checked with Knute and he says I definitely don't need a girdle. So that's good news. He said that ugly girl is a guy but I know he's just making that up to confuse me. There is no way a guy would go on the TV wearing that much make-up. Unless he was a girl. So I think he's definitely a girl. And a lesbertarian girl too.

Some of my fans have been sending me messages wondering about Mr. Cat. He's fine. Right now he's sitting in a box that Prada sent me some shoes in. I don't know why he likes to sit in boxes so much but he's totes into that. Last night I think he slept in the box. Maybe I need to try sitting in a box because Mr. Cat seems real peaceful all the time. Mostly he sleeps and that is super-peaceful.

I just went and told Knute I wanted a box to sit in. He was organizing all our receipts to give my tax person and he just looked at me like I was crazy or something. I'm like, "I want to be peaceful like Mr. Cat." So Knute goes, "What are you talking about?" I was all, "He just sits in that Prada box and it's like awesome. I need to sit in a Prada box." So Knute just sat there for a minute, it got kind of awkward with him just staring at me and me going like, "What?" He just shook his head at me and goes, "I don't even know what to say." So then I was like all reminding him about my total quest for inner peace. Or inner piece. I'm not really sure. I was like, "Remember my life coach?" And Knute goes, "Which one?" So I go, "Remember my fung shway dude?" and Knute goes, "That was a disaster." "Well, yea, but I was like into it until he totally rearranged my whole house!!!" Anyway, we totes ended up fighting and that was not helping my inner piece. So I just went back to the master suite and sat on the floor with Mr. Cat and tried to be cool.

My life is seriously hard you guys!