It’s Always Cloudy In Chicago
Like Laguna Beach on crack…Archive for celebrities
The Dynamic Duo Stuffs a Turkey
Happy Thanksgiving, kiddos.
It’s been a crazy little week and Lily and I have been slacking with the posts, I know. Last week, was super stressful with me killing the economy and all.
Last Friday, I needed to de-stress. I had one hell of a shopping spree with Ana. Later that night, I managed to dance the night away with Goggles (who is a really really bad dancer, but in the most adorable kind of way). Lily managed to do the one thing I told her not to do, which was drunkenly tell Goggles how I feel about him (Thanks, Lil). Then at some point, she managed to drunkenly flash us at Barleycorn. Ha, I know. What a skank, right? I thought that he would never speak to me again (since he told me that he never talks to girls who like him if he does not like them back), but it worked in my favor. I figure that he has to dig me a little bit since he is still talking to me and hanging out with me. So, you’re lucky this time, Lillian, but no more drunken professions of love when a) you’re inebriated and b) not involved in either party.
Saturday, I met up with the loves of my life, Karly and Alyssa, and we partied it up with Mark and company since he was throwing a party. Things got a little nutty (there was Jungle Juice and Jungle Juice and I are not the best of friends). I attacked a boxing machine and spent the night hanging out with Goggles friend. No, we didn’t do anything (even though that was my plan). I really like Goggles and I just didn’t think it was in my best interest if I want to pursue something special with him (I know. I’m gay).
And this whole passed week, I’ve just been coasting through. Saw Beowulf on Monday–I realized that I hated the epic and that there was no need for me to see the movie. I learned a few things though–Angelina Jolie can fuck whoever she wants and it will haunt a man forever; and if your arm rips off of your body, you’re screwed because you automatically die.
The rest of the week I was partying hard with old friends and closing down bars. I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone until I saw them all again. And although, the suburb bars do not compare to the one’s we have in the city, the patrons know how to throw down and have a shit ton of fun. I saw everyone from Preschool to Excess Baggage to kids that I went to grade school with and of course, Karly and Alyssa, so it was automatically an awesome time.
I will be reuniting with everyone again tomorrow for a last hoorah at a friend’s birthday bash/lingerie party tomorrow at Enclave (Googles will be there too I think… I was so happy that he conveniently made it out to the suburbs last night and that Mark convinced him to go to the same bar that the girls and I were at). I’m quite excited. I might dress a little skankier than usual for the occasion. This might even call for an emergency shopping trip.
But I guess , I just want to take this time and state everything that I’m thankful for, since it’s Thanksgiving and all. I figure the occassion calls for it.
- My Family. I’m so glad that my family is pretty attractive and that I didn’t end up ugly. I’m pretty glad that I’m cute because God knows that I’m not the brightest crayon in the box and that my looks have gotten me a lot of things. I’m kind of glad that they don’t expect me to be a rocket scientist and that they will always think of me as “the cute one”. No pressure there.
- The Crazy Bitches I Call Friends. I am partial to you guys because there’s only a select bunch that I truly truly enjoy. You’re always a guaranteed good time and I could talk to them about anything.
- My Cell Phone. It is truly an extension of my body. I don’t know what I would do with out it.
- M.A.C. Cosmetics. Because they make me look flawless (even though it really doesn’t take much).
- Andy Samberg. There should be no reason for why I’m thankful for him except that he is the most beautiful, funniest man in the universe.
- That Homeboy Broke Up With Me When He Did. Ugh. I would have been engaged by now, dudes! How crazy would that have been? No crazy stories. No random make out sessions. No slutting around town. No crazy list of bad ideas. No Goggles (he wouldn’t have even been a blip on my radar since when I am in a fully committed relationship–which I was–I have boy blinders on). My life would pretty much suck major!
- Skinny Jeans. They just make my legs look long and my ass look fierce!
- Justin Timberlake. Without his music, I would not be such a merry drunk.
- The Gays. They are just so fab. Without them we would not know what is cool and what is hot. We need them in our society. They make society work and the world a better place in general.
- The Almighty Credit Card. The emergency credit card has done wonders for my wardrobe. Without I wouldn’t be looking as fresh and clean as I usually do. Also, it has closed a few bar tabs in its day. I can’t help it if I live beyond my means. I’m cool like that. Hollar!
I think that is it. I was looking forward to not waking up early, but I’m thinking that I might have to just for the sake of having something to wear tomorrow night. Hope you guys are all fattened up. I have a feeling you all are going to purge tomorrow. Kidding! Not really, but for the sake of the kids, I never said I was a role model.
Audrey Lights Shia’s Fire (Pronounced Fi-Uh)
Everyone who is anyone knows about my obsession with SNL sweetheart, Andy Samberg. He is just the epitome of everything that I could ever want in another human being—crazy hair, smart, hilarious, has the ability to rhyme, dorky, Jewish (I’m a little bit of a Schiksa). I’m convinced that we are totally meant to be together and I think that he is the cat’s meow (that’s right—I said cat’s meow). I’m 98.97869849875% sure that we are going to get married and have crazy-haired little rapping babies one day. I am so sure that he’s going to fall in love with me that I would totally put money on it. All I have to do is penetrate his circle of friends and somehow earn his trust. Gee… How are you going to do that, Audrey? Well, let me let you in on a little secret, kiddies.
On April 14, 2007, Shia Lebeouf was the host on Episode 17 of the 32nd season of the late night comedy show, Saturday Night Live. During the rehearsals and up until the live taping of the show, he had the honor of working with my personal beacon of light, Andy Samberg. From what my sources have gathered (and by sources I mean, what I assume), the two strapping young men became rather chummy on set and from what I understand have remained friends ever since. What does this have to do with you marrying Andy Samberg? Be patient, grasshoppers.
You see, a little birdie (who I shall call The Red Eye) has informed me that Shia is shooting a movie here in Chicago with Rosario Dawson. Not only is this self-proclaimed homebody shooting here, he is also going about getting arrested at a Wal-greens (criminal records are hot) and partying up in our fair city at places like Underground (aka places that I can easily gain entry). Audrey, you’re not thinking—Oh, you better believe it, little ones. That is exactly what I am thinking.
I plan to stalk Shia Lebeouf and bed him in order to meet and, shortly there after, marry Andy Samberg (I’m thinking that we would probably elope). GASP! I know. It sounds crazy, but is it really? I have developed a very intricate plan and there is no way it can fail.
I have taken the liberty of compiling a list of Shia’s general interests and favorite things. From the gathered information, I have derived another of the handful of places that he would even think about going to given his shooting schedules and locations as well as the proximity in relation to his hotel suite.
Also, I figure that for the next week or so, I must keep tabs on anything concerning Shia’s whereabouts. He may throw out a surprise appearance at the museum or have dinner at Carmine’s or something. You never know with these Hollywood-types.
Now, realistically, I cannot be in more than one place at a time (for now at least) and I realize that is a shortcoming in the plan. For this reason, I have installed a number of private security cameras and recruited a number of spies (or as I lovingly refer to them, “spias”) up and down the Gold Coast and anywhere and everywhere that could be a possibly be Shia-friendly.
When I get wind of a Shia siting, I’m going to need confirmation ASAP. I have the best people in town working for me, so if they fuck up—they’re fired and they will never work in this town again. Once I receive confirmation, I make way to the said destination and wine and dine Lebeouf until he is in the buff. This is how I imagine our initial meeting will go:
First, I wait until he casually walks up to the bar. I casually bump into to him not letting him know that I recognize him as anyone famous or anything like that, of course. That’s when I apologize and offer to buy him a drink. Of course, he’ll accept and I then yell, “Bar keep a long island for me and a roofie-tini for the gentleman.” I make eyes at him. We talk and we laugh and we share a few moments until the roofie kicks in. I tell his buddies or whoever he’s with that he said that he wanted me to take him back to his hotel (and if they don’t believe me, I’ll just pull the ol’ Weekend at Bernie’s shtick). From there, I will bed him (because what fun is it to roofie up a celebrity and then not bang him?). Afterwards, I hire a hooker to pose in the incriminating photos that I take of him (this is for later use).
The next morning, Shia will wake up and see me in his arms. I’ll tell him about how we fell in love and that I loved him before I even knew that he was a big movie star. He’ll be a little scared at first, but then he will get comfortable and use to the idea of me. After he is done shooting his film, he whisks me away to New York to meet his family and some of his buddies.
Coincidently, Shia and I would attend the Saturday Night Live after party and run into none other than, Andy-mother-f-in-Samberg. How funny is that? Who would have thunk it? Andy and I hit it off right away. Shia conveniently does not feel good for some reason or another and calls it a night, leaving it up to Andy (the love of my life) to make sure that I get back to him safely. From that night on, Andy and I develop a strong bond that cannot be broken and some might say a forbidden love.
Conveniently soon after, incriminating photos of Shia and a hooker turn up all over the place on—covers of magazines and all over Perez Hilton. We get into a huge fight. I tell him that I cannot be with someone who has such an insatiable sexual appetite that he has to turn to prostitutes and that I am embarrassed to be seen with him. He tries to fight for us, but I tell him no. Then I point out that I realize that these pictures were in the very hotel room that we first made sweet love in and cry that I can’t believe that he was doing this right under my nose. And then I leave him.
As soon as I walk out of his apartment, I call Andy crying, looking for a shoulder to cry on. He provides that shoulder. Andy tells me that he would never ever think of doing that to me if I was his lady friend and then he professes his love to me in a digital short that he had been working on called “Shia’s Girl” with Martin Short starring as Shia. About five minutes later, we get married and there is a whole tabloid frenzy about this ridiculous love triangle.
And that is the reader’s digest of why I need to bone Shia Leobouf.
I mean, yes, I’m technically using Shia and ruining lives, but it’s all for love, baby. It’s all to show Andy that I care. So, don’t judge me and claim that my intentions weren’t good and that I ruined the career of the next Tom Hank’s single-handedly. That’s mean. I know that you would do it too and we all know love makes us do crazy things.
So I’m asking you from the bottom of my heart, if you have any news or information about Shia’s whereabouts, please contact Audrey. If you don’t want to do it for me, do it for the sake of true love. I promise that you will get into heaven if you do. And if you don’t, I will make your life in hell as miserable as possible. Kisses.
UPDATE: Turns out Cusack knows the studios that are filming Shia’s latest project. Isn’t that a beard stroker?
