and it’s starting to piss me off.
these freaking supermodels have been summer subletting the apartment upstairs from my hot neighbor, who it turns out is a modeling agent and apartment swapped with the ageless beauty this summer. normally i like to keep my drapes open in my bedroom because i have a very temperamental plant that my pal ann ferris got me back when i lived in frisco with layne and hilldale and hickey and hornberger and it was the first plant that i managed not to kill.
so sometimes, when im changing someone will walk past the window and i don’t think anything of it, but i guess i was re-reading “dot con” the other evening and naomi got a glance and my girl got on larry king the other night and starts telling all my secrets!
i swear to you, america, im just an average man.
and size doesn’t matter anyway, ask half the girls who wont do me any more.
in the last few days ive been playing a “what if” game with one of my co-workers during lunch. libras love this game, ask meesh. the other day my coworker, who is also a libra, asked me “what if, like in that tom hanks movie ‘cast away,’ you had a wife who took a trip and ended up in a plane crash. she doesn’t return for years and everyone thinks shes dead. you have a funeral for her and then remarry.
years later she gets rescued from the island and comes to find you happily remarried. what do you do? do you break up with your new wife or do you tell your old wife that you’re now in love – like they did in the film – and continue with the new wife?”
i said i would have to keep both of them.
she said, come on, be serious.
i said, i am serious, and any woman who would know me enough to marry them would know that i am serious. my old wife shouldn’t be punished for being in a plane crash. why should she be without her husband? and the new wife shouldn’t have her husband ripped away from her. and biblically you can have more than one wife, so this seems to be the perfect solution.
so yesterday my co-worker asks me, “would you do anna nicole smith?”
to which i replied that i was in college when anna nicole made her Playboy debut. most people don’t remember that she wasn’t even nude in her Playboy debut. from what i could figure they discovered her and she was so hot that they said, fuckit, we don’t have enough time to get a whole photo spread put together, but we can certainly get one great picture and throw it on the cover.
which is what they did, and she was one of the sexiest cover shots that ive ever seen them do and i fell in lust immediately.
personally i love anna nicole. i love how she seems stoned all the time, i love how sexy she is. i love how she looks sexy no matter what her body looks like. i love her white trash sensibilities and her absolute honesty. i love that when she had money she leased marilyn monroe’s former hollywood hills house and filled it with marilyn memorabilia and locked herself up in it.
i loved how she went on howard stern yesterday morning and said that she hasn’t had sex since her former husband expired and that she masturbates all the time. i love how she said that shes basically a nympho who would give it to her next boyfriend ten times a day and would probably kill him too.
but, i told my coworker, i could not have sex with her because before she married the billionaire texas oilman senior citizen, she had been previously married to another man and then divorced. and the Good Book is very clear that its not cool to mess around with divorced women.
my coworker, who is totally catholic said, “no way.”
i said, yeah, which is why i don’t return mariah’s calls and now, j.lo’s.
my coworker, who goes to church every sunday, said, thats the silliest thing ive ever heard.
and then the batphone rang so we hopped into our car and flew off down wilshire.
today: is our annual xbi summer barbeque and im gonna finally talk to this hot chick who has been smiling at me for months. wish me luck!