The man in slush-dirtied Kenneth Cole knock-offs trudged through the industrial park. The Cup O’ Noodles clutched in his angry, defeated, ashamed, rueful hand followed. Or something to that Stephen King’s The Gunslinger series effect.
Archive for the ‘Deal with me’ Category
“GGGFAAOWWNNUUHHH!” is roughly the sound that issued from me before my face smacked directly on to the sidewalk.
I went DOWN. DOWN DOWN. As if poleaxed! If you translated that sound, it would come out to be:
“WHY THE FUCK ARE MY ARMS NOT COMING UP TO PROTECT MY FACE? THIS IS GOING TO HURT! I AM GOING TO HURT MY FACE! THIS IS TERRIFYING! TERRIFYING!”
As I lay there stunned, not even in pain yet, I heard two cars pass me. Two cars. Neither of them slowing. There’s a man lying facedown on a sidewalk in broad daylight. And not in the sort of area where people lying facedown on the sidewalk (whether dead, dying, high, drunk, lazy, or just plain fatigued) is a common occurrence. And he’s hoping to hear someone’s power window slide down and a tentative, hoping-to-hell-he-answers-in-the-affirmative-because-we’ve-got-little-Shenandoah’s-soccer banquet-to-go-to voice ask if he’s alright. Nope. Two cars drove by. “What’s that man doing?” “Bleeding dear. Take a pic and Facebook it.”
When I took my face off the cement and noted the pretty drops of blood that were starting to pepper the sidewalk, I was pretty scared. I didn’t have a compact in my purse, so I had no idea of just how bad the damage was. Had my nose been reconfigured and pushed to the side? Was my eye hanging out? I could have answered that one for myself because my vision was fine. What little deductive reason I possess tends to fly away in the face of sheer panic. And my teeth – were my teeth all there? I know people with gaps in their teeth. People automatically assume you watch Duck Dynasty when you have one of those.
The worst part of it, after all was said and done, was that my husband was at the movies. With the car. And I was two blocks from our apartment. And I looked like Bloody Face, I assumed. I was able to deduce that from the pain and the blood. From my face.
Alone. I was utterly alone. No cars had stopped and I probably had a skull fracture and part of my brain was probably leaving (I hadn’t seen it on the sidewalk yet, but who knows – maybe it had fallen into a shrub or something) and I had to walk home alone.
I took my hoodie off, and held it to my face like people do when they’re trying to prevent smoke inhalation. I was trying to prevent unnerving people. Which is odd seeing as I was still resentful about the TWO CARS THAT DROVE BY, PROBABLY SAW A MAN LYING FACEDOWN ON A SIDEWALK, AND KEPT DRIVING TO SHENANDOAH’S SOCCER BANQUET.
It was a long two blocks. I passed three people. One was a small Asian woman. One was a young white man getting into a car that had been idling waiting for him. And one was an older white gentleman walking a dog. Apparently they had been invited to Shenandoah’s soccer banquet as well. Cuz’ not one of those assholes asked me if I was ok. And the sweatshirt wasn’t covering all the damage. That patch on my forehead you see is post-initial clean-up. It was bleeding pretty heavily at first. So the three people who saw me would have been able to see THE BLOOD STREAMING DOWN MY FOREHEAD. Wow, that must have been some fucking soccer banquet. Maybe they had a DJ.
What did people think I was doing? Converting to Muslim but had gotten confused about which gender wears the niqab? A stupid Muslim who was gender transitioning and couldn’t work her niqab correctly? Concerned about the smog levels in Quincy, MA? Really?
Now that I look back, I honestly think the general public’s apathy towards my plight had something to do with the marathon bombing. It was probably a case of “Look, guy. We’ve all had enough of the death and maiming and we’re trying to get back to normal. Can you swing this one on your own? KTHANKSBAI.” So the One Fund won’t be supporting my recovery. I’m ok with that.
The only damage I really did was give myself a non-displacing fracture in my nose. Which means I broke it but not in the way where you need surgery to point it back in the right direction. This is good news, because I have that modeling career to get back to and Ford Models demands that your nose go in the right direction or you can kiss that Marie Claire cover goodbye, darling.
My face hurts.
Time: 9:49 AM
Place: Off of Kendall Square
Sleep last night wasn’t happening, whether because of wedding worries or Scotty constantly putting the dog in our bed and then going to watch TV and the dog wanting to be with Scotty so it has to wake me up to get him to Scotty. Go fuck yourself, Cooper. Anyway, all I could think about during my MBTA commute was:
A) a medium hot tea with skim and three Splenda
B) the can of Diet Pepsi I was going to shotgun once I got to work (gay internet sex workers get free soda, it’s a perk and something to drink while you’re praying the next set of pics you have to look at doesn’t include a prolapsed rectum)
and I’m setting the next one apart so you realize it’s importance…
C) A COFFEE CAKE MUFFIN FROM DUNKIE’S
I got my muffin, but it was ruined due to me having the mobile table manners of a feral child. Read on.
E! reports that Barrymore, who is currently promoting that horrible Aniston-looking Going The Distance with her boyfriend The Mac Guy, didn’t feel spiritual about a certain interviewer in London.
“You should have heard this bitch I had to do an interview with before you. God, I wanted to punch her, she would just not drop the youth thing. I have no problem talking about it. I am not someone who is ashamed of my past. I’m actually really proud. I know I made a lot of mistakes, but they in turn were my life lessons,” Drew vents.
If you will recall, before Drew got relevant and respected, she did the tacky wherein she pulled two rehab stints at a very tender age and then wrote a classic about it called Little Girl Lost. Firestarter didn’t burn so hot, and it was a long time before she was fucking on her best friend’s dad in Poison Ivy. And by the way, how hot is THAT movie? Psychotic Drew rides an erotic rope swing to seduce Darlene from Roseanne and then wears the mother’s gown to get the Dad on her? Yes, please.
Lisp-o-tron Drew went on to act like me when I realized we were never going to have Hostess products in our home again due to Scotty’s diet.
“It’s actually good to get it done young and have a great life later. But yeah, man, I wanted to rip this woman’s face off. She just would not shut up about it.
Justin Long must move into a hotel when it’s Tampax time.
I think we need more face-ripping-off in fame victim land, so go, Drew. I can think of about 25 celebrities right now who could use someone using their nose as a pull tab, can’t you? I’m thinking of a certain freckled wonder in dirty leggings with no respect for the law …
(Fact – It’s not like they will put this mess in solitary with a hole for toilette. She’ll have air conditioning for chrissakes. And a blanket. And she can probably get drugs more easily IN prison than outside it. I’ve seen OZ. They have em’ in condoms or balloons and people put them up themselves. I’m guessing she’s played that game before.)
Lohan brought Walt Disney into it on her Twitter. Eeeks.
the only “bookings” that i’m familiar with are Disney Films, never thought that i’d be “booking” into Jail… eeeks
about 9 hours ago via web
The last time this bitch was looked at by Disney was when she drove by Disneyland in Anaheim on a drug run.
Freckles may have come to the realization that she was definitely donning orange when her newest lawyer, famed O.J. legal eagle Robert Shapiro, rolled his eyes and left.
TMZ reports that Shapiro met with peoples’ hero Judge Marsha yesterday and informed her that he was audi. This is an easy point to make, but this dude represented a man who cut his ex-wife’s head off and killed a waiter as a bonus. Represented him to a “not guilty” verdict. After said psychopath led cops on a high-speed chase. And he couldn’t handle sitting with Lindsay Lohan at a long table for a couple of hours. Make of that what you will.
Stay tuned today to see if Lohan actually turns up at the pokey. Or if she sends Dina in leggins’, a wig and stage freckles.
“Want to go shopping?” “Not really.” So this queen is RARIN’ to get into this Toronto mall, which was apparently closed due to the riots happening in protest to the G20 summit. When he encounters some locked doors…..well, all bets are off as he unleashes a torrent of bellowing and demands to know why he isn’t being allowed to mall walk his ass around the place.
Is it really that serious, I asked myself when I first watched this? Then when he turned around and his crazy hard boiled egg eyes alighted on the cameraman, I knew it wasn’t a case of perceived injustice. It was a case of “this mo’ snapped quite some time ago and this is just the latest chapter in his wackjob epic.” Seriously, this is a workplace shooter-type individual. You don’t eff with that guy, you merely hide your smirk behind your hand and keep walking.
You know someone is round’ the bend plumb loco when even the dick children behind him kinda shrug and give up on mocking him. His insanity outlasts “brat.” There’s no shame in this fruit bat’s game.
Update – The original has been taken down (hey, if this crazy came to your house with a Taser in a shopping bag demanding you stop sullying his image, you would take it down, too). But please enjoy the remix.
Here’s Lady Gaga‘s new Rolling Stone cover. I would have been so much happier with this if it had come out before the video. As like a teaser. That’s a great prop. But I’ve seen it, so I’m not enthralled.
In other news, I feel like I know her body better than she does. Seriously, I feel like I’m her gyno sometimes. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I need just a scootch less ass and womynflower from her.
Here’s her last one. Which do you think is better?
TMZ reports that Ms. January Jones (god, what a great name) reportedly banged up several cars (four in total, damn how many Sidecars did she have, Jon Hamm?) with her SUV near her home in LA and then left claiming that the paparazzi were at fault and caused her to freak and swerve. “Freak and Swerve” is the name of my new YouTube hip hop dance viral video.
Here’s the best part:
We’re told a witness reported the accident to police and claimed that January fled on foot after saying, “I can’t deal with this commotion.”
Which is exactly what I say when I play Demolition Derby for reals on the streets of LA.
January Baby’s car was impounded, but cops don’t think drugs or booze had anything to do with the accident. But she might have had other things on her blonde mind. Because this picture of her Riding the Cab of Shame was taken outside her house the morning BEFORE.
She was at a party the NIGHT before. In the same dress. GET IT, GIRL!
If she was distraught over being caught like that, she needs to relax. She is a free, adult woman. You do what you need to do, Jan.
I hope I am asked to take these pics down because it means someone in the industry is reading this blog.