It's A Wonderful Lohan

Fucking hilarious. Watchwatchwatch. And only just coincidentally Lindsay related, I swear. This is my attempt at Christmas cheer. Ha. No no, this one stems from my longstanding Perez Hilton addiction. It's been almost two years since I was celebrity gossip free... It's a disgusting habit, I know, I just can't seem to quit.

My sophmore attempt....

In my naiveté, before I set off for my summer in San Diego, I had myself convinced that I would have the time/willpower/prescence of mind to write a blog on my Bebo every couple of days or so the whole time I was away in San Diego. As you could have guessed, I managed to write ONE whole entry, and couldn't even hack the effort of copy and pasting it onto my profile. $12 for 2 litres of vodka will do that to do. And so, in keeping with the theme of my last entry (staving off any the need for creativity) I will go the distance, and copy and paste it here...

"At 10:30am on Sunday, I boarded a brand spanking new plane and waved goodbye to Dublin. We were literally the first set of passengers to ever set foot on it, which meant the toilets were in glorious condition, very pleasing. The swanky plane had these wicked touch screen consoles on the back of the seat in front of you, on which you could play tons of music, TV shows, movies, and games at the drop of a hat. It was basically like an iPod loaded up with amazing shit and set into the seat ahead of you…. Very exciting for a tech nerd like me… Of course mine conveniently broke 3 hours from the end of the flight, probably due to my incessant fiddling, and left me musicless for the most boring part of the flight. An 11 hour flight is no joke, I’d say I slept for most of it, but the damn airhostesses kept waking me up to ask if I wanted coffee. I’m asleep!!! Do sleeping people want coffee??!! Coffee and sleeping are polar fucking opposites. Ladies, kindly FUCK RIGHT OFF!


Landed in LAX and walked out into the most hectic shitstorm of people I’d ever seen. Thousands upon thousands of people (and what looked like every single citizen of Mexico) queuing for customs but luckily I’d done that in Dublin airport so I got my bag, skirted around the poncho-clad madness and commenced the hard part – finding where I was supposed to go next! After asking about 5 different members of airport staff, each an absolute FRUIT in their own unique way, who all told me to go different places, and wandering about with my giants bags ‘til I got blisters on my heels (LAX is huuuuge!) I finally managed to check in and get my ticket, but not before the little tiny black woman behind the desk burst out singing ‘LUCY IN THE SKY WITH DIAMONDS’ and asked me if boys ever sing it to me. I resisted the urge to tell her I’m a cunt enthusiast and wandered off.


But the crazy-airport-staff related fun doesn’t stop there! As I was going through security, something about my ticket inspires the giant security guard to shout out ‘We got a ringer!’ (What?! I never rang no-one or nuffink or summat!) and suddenly I’m ushered off into this little cubicle where I’m felt up by some old biddy wearing latex gloves, who kindly prefaced my sexual assault with “Do you have any sensitive areas on your body?”… I JUST ABOUT managed to not make a dirty joke…. Any form of humour shown whilst at security in the US will result in an immediate anal deflowering, and my assflower and I have gotten particularly close in the last while. All my belongings (and I mean ALL!) were searched and then swabbed with little white fabric squares. My laptop, the inside of my shoes, my UNDIES (I’m positive this was unnecessary… unnecessary but SEXY) were all swabbed and then they put the swabs in a machine which tells them if there’s any explosive residue on them. LUCKILY I had left my uranium stash at home so I was okay.


I am now presently sitting in the terminal at LAX waiting for my flight to San Diego which is at 7pm. It’s currently 4:15pm. There’s no internet, hence why I am typing such a detailed and drawn out description into Word. Also, it helps take my mind off the really creepy old guy who just sat down right beside me when there’s tons of free seats! Eeek! By the time this is uploaded, I’ll have arrived at the house, and have had my giant-mega-cool-extreme-super-welcoming party (The girls just rang, there’s 100 people expected, a band shall be ‘jamming’ in the soundproof sex dungeon, kegs, plenty of 2 litre bottles of vodka and Jaegermeister, and an abundance of delicious Californian home grown weed! I’ll confirm these reports in a little while, but YOWZA does it sound like a party and a half!) I’m just so pumped to get there. The last thing I want to be doing is sitting here beside Creep McCreeperson (YES, I MEAN YOU! SERIOUSLY! STOP READING WHAT I’M TYPING!!) for the next 2 and a half hours but I guess I’ll survive. There’s nothing else to write about (bar the pretzels I just bought) and THE FREAK who is reading my every word doesn’t need anymore info on where to find me once I land in SD, so goodbye my lovelies, I’m thinking of you all!! Lx"

Ah, copy and paste. Helping an array of people, particularly college students writing papers, avoid ACTUAL work since its conception.

In other (slightly more magical) news... the adventure Ragin' took Dave and I on last night was delightful! Though it began with a walk along the Luas tracks with one swiftly approaching... I think it was a way for us to prove our devotion to the Ragemonster and weed out the weak. The house she took us to in Dalkey has THE best Christmas lights I've ever seen. The Santa flying a giant mechanical plane, complete with light up landing strip was my personal favourite item. Then it was on to Tallaght to see Dave's recommendation... and sweet. jesus. you would be able to see this house from space. And at midnight, in the FREEZING cold, the owner of the house is out there on his hands and knees, no jacket, laying down sheets of white felt across his lawn to make it look like snow. It ALMOST made this grinch feel a bit of Christmas spirit, but I stuffed it down quickly and made a sarcastic remark about what kind of freak you'd have to be to be outdoors at this time of night getting down and dirty with a roll of felt when your house already resembles something you'd find dangling off a Japanese exchange student's mobile phone. The snark brings me more joy than any present ever could.

I'm being kidnapped now for a hang-hang with one half of The Triboys, all girls, and our assorted apprentices, who are all male... The Triboys; challenging gender roles since early 2007. Perhaps sometime soon I'll write a piece on The Triboys, our ethics, mission statement etc....

Lx

Ah, the inaugural blog....

... also known as the most boring one. It will be a few days 'til I find my blogging feet, like The Pout (the person to blame for this affront on your senses) who in turn caught the blogging fever from none other than her very own poutégé, Una. Also, finding the time could be tricky, I'm triple booked all week... How I'll fit:

Kristen Bell

Hayden Panettiere

AND the Lindsmeister

into one day I just don't know. Well, I guess you get what you pay for. Apparently secretaries don't accept poppers and vodka as payment. But when I handed her my credit card she threw it back at me and said it was a receipt from McDonald's. Plus I ordered twisty fries and never got them. Man, my secretary sucks.

And it is now that I must depart, in an attempt to avoid any originality or creativity.... However, the 'official' reason it that the legend that is Ragin' Spice (who apparently has a blog but I can't find the address, so linkage laterage) is taking David and I on a whirlwind adventure... And I am more than likely going to be late, such as I am prone to. My tardiness is not to be confused with tartiness. And on that note.


Peace and love.

Lx