The New Me

Alright, enough with the madness! I feel like things are spriralling out of control. So, I took a couple secs to think about my life. And I got really confused. So I asked for help from a few people that really care about me: my mom, my sister, my hair lady (I forget her name), my law guy (forget his name too), my agent (whatever with the names already), my publicist, my manager, my crisis manager, my stylist, my makeup artist, and someone else who I don’t know why I pay him – but he’s old, ugly, and bald so he must be good at something because he definitely isn’t wasting any time with having fun or sex.


So I bought them all together to branestrom. And I handled this meeting like a real pro. I was like, “I have major problems. What are you guys doing wrong!? Lawguy, figure it out! How can cops just search my pockets? And publicity girl, like, nice work! And makeup lady, hide these freckles already!” And I just really bitched them out, cuz let’s face it, they aren’t doing a good job.


I mean, nobody even know’s Tom Cruise is gay, or Brad Pit, or Tobey Maguire – obviously there people are doing good work. So, I kept yelling. And while I was on this total bitch-session I caught a look at myself in a mirror – and I stopped and realized something horrible about myself, I have a another zit! What is wrong with you make up lady?! So I bitched even more. I was like, c’mon! I can’t figure out my whole life myself, give me some ideas! And they were like, duuuuhhh, um, maybe you should try to change your image from party girl to girl next door.

I was like ‘STUPID!” Been done. Not gonna do a "Paris." No. But they all kept going on about changing ME! ME? I’m not the one letting this stuff get out. But they were like, your growing up, be a lady. And they kept saying it. Even the bald ugly guy. And I really respek him – I mean, to be able to live and look like him and still be rich, wow.

So I thout about it. I mean, people change, right? No, it’s a question, do they? Well I will. I’ll be the first. Me, a lady. But change is tough. So I came up with this other great idea – if I do mess up I'll post a picture of me that loses clothing with each new arrest (like that movie where Martin Sheen is a baseball picher). So it’s like whatever happens I'm guarantted to be loved! Lady or not. So, here goes. The new me, a lady. And if not, a naked me. It’s a win win.