If you don't know, now ya know!

❝A beautiful girl can make you dizzy like you've been drinking jack and coke all morning. She can make you feel high, full of the single greatest commodity known to man: promise. Promise of a better day, promise of a greater hope, promise of a new tomorrow. This particular aura can be found in the galt of a beautiful girl. In her smile and in her soul. In the way she makes every rotten little thing about life seem like it's going to be okay. The supermodels, Willy, that's all they are, bottled promised. Scenes from a brand new day, hope dancing in stilleto heels. A beautiful girl is all powerful and that is as good as love.❞

♤♧♡♢♤♧♡♢♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♤♧♡♢

One girl with an endearing sense of agreement and a closet full of furs. There's nothing sexier than unapologetic confidence and eye-catching poise. She's my lady and my personal favorite line is when  Emma yelled at a guy, "You should learn how to do yoga so you can suck your own dick!" His mid-western ignorance didn't get rewarded.

✘✘

SuckitbySina

Blackberry Vizion

can i throw-up in your purse?

Blackberry Vizion

i got the magic stick

✘✘

SuckitbySina

Blackberry Vizion

This is Paulina. She gets nosebleeds more often than Mischa Barton goes to the hospitol for "exhaustion." Toilet paper in the left nostril is THE look for Fall '09. Pshhhh

Blackberry Vizion

The phone has hit an all new rock bottom. As if parts of the screen missing wasn't bad enough, Elise decided to drown me in her Jack-and-Coke one night. Result: my entire phone's keypad gets soaked and sticky. It's besides the point that she was retaliating against me undressing her in the middle of Frenchman in New Orleans. After it's alcohol poising my Blackberry entered an intense rehab detox program, which consisted of being buried in a jar of rice every night. Not fried with an egg on top, just regular, white, uncooked. Much like when old people try to recover from a breaking a hip, she's easing back into it.

The crappy camera still comes in handy though and more Blackberry Vizions like this coming.

Olive or was it Viola had to use the restroom at Toad's Hall(?) in the Castro the other night. The boys were taking their sweet ass time and she wasn't having it. (Babe this urinal thing is quickly becoming a habit. I'm concerned. I take that back, I'm intrigued.) Anyway the only problem was that the urinal left her no access to toilet paper. We then spent ten long minutes trying to convince the man in the stall to pass us some. NO FUCKING MERCY. He cold-hearteningly ignored our drunken pleads and offers of money and over the pants handjobs. Fucking bastard, but Viola let him know that she thought he was mean and I told him he had "moobs."

[Yes, that is her out-stretched arm begging for toilet paper under the stall door.]

Blackberry Vizion

Whoa whoa whoa. San Francisco was the place to be this past weekend. Block parties and gay parades. The streets were shut down, the tequila on ice, and the sun was shining. We did it big with tattoos, tacos for breakfast, and jaw dropping back-up dancers. These people are in the business of getting buckwild, so start dancing.

Blackberry Vizion

After a solid Subway session, extra mustard please, the tummy-monster comes out to play. Unbutton those shorts baby, it's time for crunches. Wait, we don't do that here.

Blackberry Vizion

ONE LINE! ONE LINE! Only one fucking line means no baby! Close call averted, hooray. Whew let's go to happy hour honey.

Blackberry Vizion

Strike a fuckin pose! Marson and Chess accurately give us "passion of christ." Either that or a freeze frame from Tila Tequila: A Shot At Love, episodes 4 to 11. Where Nob Hill meets the Tenderloin, a place of ten dollar whiskey and blue boogers. Said come on babe, take a walk on the wild side.

Blackberry Vizion

Some just can't risk leaving a text unread until the morning. Might be time for blackberry rehab.

Blackberry Vizion

I don't know how we got to this point. And I don't really know what to do now.

Blackberry Vizion

What could warrant this mid-party madness? Snoop Dogg walking through the front door? A tray of jello shots suddenly floating around? That out of season Christmas tree catching on fire? Nah it's just that "I'm On a Boat" began blaaring out of the speakers and our limbs melted into rubber. Swinging, twisting, bumping, grinding, spitting, and screaming, at near disturbing levels.

Blackberry Vizion

Every morning there is a ritual. It's start times range between 10am-2pm. Waking up with a quench nothing seems to cure, hopefully recognizing your surroundings, and finding your cell-phone. Take a deep breath and observe the embarrassing evidence from last night it's history hold. One of my top 5 favorite activities is to look at the pictures on my phone from the night before. 

At 6 am I text Elise, who is visiting her sister in Davis:

"Hi. Can you pick me up when you are coming into the city. I'm about to fall sleep at a house on Folsom and Twelfth downtown. I will explain later."

All I had were these three pictures and "Dick / Clit," written on each respectable knuckle. 

The evening "began" (at midnight) with a snack of salmon. Obviously, why wouldn't it.

Somewhere along the lines there was a Paris-Hilton-Carl's-Jr-esque photo shoot on some d-bags orange Hummer. The owner barked us away mid-photo when he caught us in the act.

 

The dub-step party that we got to around 2:30 am was no kind of joke. Literally the DJ is bumping sounds of "Did you drink my apple juice," until the sun was rising behind him. A night spent with the most eclectically different people, ranging from 18-45, from sober to possibly overdosed, is something I won't even begin to try to explain. Just bring your sunglasses to wear when you're leaving at 6 am.