midnight rambler
Erica. Twenty five. Jersey. Taking a machete to this wild jungle of a world.
And here is the video, as promised. This is my good, dear friend Stefano, also known as TheOCEAN (and you can become friends with him here). Well, anyway, the above is a reaction to Lady Gaga’s new song, “Born This Way” (which sucks, definitely sucks) and it’s hilarious.
So, remember how I said you might spit out your coffee all over your shiny new Mac? Put that burning, steaming cup down. Now. And watch.
(Background: Stefano/TheOCEAN is an arteeste and a musician and all sorts of creative and has legitimate opinions**. I mean, shit, I’m no musician so I can’t walk around criticizing something I can’t do. But I feel if this is your thing? Criticize away.)
(** When we first became friends years ago, I discovered he absolutely didn’t like Alice in Chains and thought he was quite the asshole because of it. Heart you!)
The Diary Of Lady Gaga.
Monday, July 19th 2010. Finally got to Chillis but got recognized and now I fucking hate life, hate booze, hate pills, hate pleather, hate silly hat, hate Southwestern Egg Rolls, hate bottomless margaritas.
Wait. I love bottomless margaritas.
Hate handlers, hate Polaroid™, hate Diet Coke™, hate cigarette sunglasses, hate the fact that I beat the system so quickly because now what is there left to fight for? How can you beat the machine when you’re an integral part of it? What is the artists compromise, ultimately? Did I give up the struggle for a shot at the big time - and then get it, and now… now what? What use is the success if I feel so goddam alone? Who can I share it with? What use is a million gold coins if you can’t spend a single one of them? Alanis was so fucking right. This shit is ironic. Hate irony. Can you appreciate irony genuinely? Why does love hurt? Is it possible to bedazzle an entire person? I have so many questions, diary. And you are the only one that seems to listen.
To do today:
- Get banned in China.
- Open personal Chillis franchise in my condo.
- Decipher this Post-It note I wrote on acid.
- “House cat rickshaw”. Ringing any bells, Gaga? Goddamit.
- Hire Jenny, Steve from this Chillis to work in own personal Chillis. Maybe get to know them. Maybe fire a couple of the hyperserious Liberal Arts majors in entourage and hire Jenny and Steve. I like Jenny & Steve.
I wonder if I can bedazzle themNo, no, not after what happened last time.- Work shift at secret second job at Rosetta Stone kiosk in Sherman Oaks Galleria.
Following the Yankees’ loss to the New York Mets on Friday night, Lady Gaga talked her way past security and into the Yankees’ clubhouse. She reportedly met with some players, including Robinson Cano. The media, which is supposed to be allowed into the clubhouse 10 minutes after the final pitch, was held out.
“That was the wrong time and the wrong place,” Cashman said. “It’s been taken care of.”
The New York Post reported on Sunday that Yankees co-chairman Hal Steinbrenner was furious at the display Lady Gaga put on in the clubhouse — dressed in a half-buttoned Yankees jersey and a bikini bottom, she swilled whiskey and fondled her chest, the Post said, citing sources — and that Steinbrenner had permanently banned Gaga from the team’s clubhouse. Cashman downplayed that, but added that the Yankees have other places in the Stadium where players can interact with celebrities.
“There is just a time and place,” said Cashman. “It is not her fault.”
Gat damn, she’s a shmuck.
I kind of peed a little. Not really. I SHOULD THOUGH. But like, yeah, lots of info I should expand on? Not in a public forum? Who cares? Question MARK?
I blast this song whenever its on the radio.
Her profile reminds me of Freddie Mercury’s. She has the same intensity in her eyes.
