Well hey my pretty kitties! Bethany here. Excited to be a card-carrying member of Diaryland again!
Even my HaloScan comments are pretty now! I want to give a shout out to my boy Brandon (don't want to link your secret location bud!) for showing me that even your comments box can be bootiful. I messed around trying to make a new template all day yesterday. Originally, I wanted to stick with the Delusions Of Grandeur title. This was the image I was going to use:
But the new template I was working with refused to cooperate... so I got lazy and just gave my old green nightmare template a sexy little update. These images are from Gil Elvren, an artist that really saw the sexy and strong side of women in a time when women lives mainly consisted of cleaning, cooking, and baby-makin'. His use of color and shape makes me want to get my ass back into the studio and create.
Last night, I floated on a cloud of domestic bliss. I cooked my famous chicken and cheese dish and from scratch mashed potatoes for my man. We cuddled on the couch and watched the movie Thirteen. It really made me feel for the kids coming of age in this generation. I really think MTV fucked it up for everyone between the ages of 8-23. When I was in high school, looking as shitty as possible made you cool. I remember rolling out of bed 10 minutes before I had to go to school. I'd throw on a black t-shirt, ripped up jeans, Birkenstocks with socks and wrap and flannel button down around my waist. Make-up? No way! Brush my hair? Fuck it! Man, some of those cats would wear pajama pants to school. I want to take this time to thank Kurt Cobain for making my high school fashion choices simple and time-saving. But once the pop tarts came around, shakin' they butts, all hell broke loose.
Their role models are fuck stains like this. No real talent. Just image. Just wading in the shallow side of the pool while on the verge of getting sucked into the deep end.
Kurt could wail and make me see into my future. Eddie Veddar turned me inside out. Mazzy Star, man, that girl GOT ME.
I blame US Weekly, People, E! Entertainment Television. These impressionable youths are forced to worship at the Altar of Paris. The Temple of Tara. And don't even get my fucking started on Lyndsey Lohan. That "Rumors" song has GOT TO BE the most God-awful piece of shit I have ever heard!
Because of the glorification of these vapid vixens, Britney, Tiffany, Amber and countless other Class of 06ers need vinyl skirts, belly shirts and toungue rings to be cool for school. While all I did was toke a little cheeba back in the day, these kids are trippin', rollin', huffin', snortin', sittin' up and beggin'. These misguided tiny prostitutes make me weep for the future. I am so glad I had my innocence at thirteen. When you are forced to grow up before you should, where do you go from there?
>>>>>END RANT<<<<<<<
Before I go, here are some more random Vegas shots for your viewing pleasure. I am going to print these out tonight, almost a year later, but I am apprehensive due to the horrendous quality given to me via Walgreens floppy disc. On the flip side, the blurrier they are, the more attractive I become.
It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!
My girl Priscilla, post dance-off with N*Sync's Joey Fatone
Cautionary tale: Don't ever take 2 hits of X in a 2 hour time span. You could end up looking like this!
Look at these lovelies! I can't wait to go back there in May with all of them. And once again not pay for anything. I basically begged off their table scraps. But this time, I am not going to be the "chunky, funny" one in the group. Oh no. I am going to be thin, hot, and not funny at all.