Hyuk!

Okay, that is not a "farmer tan" on that shot of me below. That freak irregularity on my left arm is some kind of technical glitch. I would never tan in cap sleeves, people. I don't wear a Victorian bathing costume to the beach to protect my frail dermis from The Fun'f Opreffive Heat. Give me a modicum of credit.

I had a kickass birthday, possibly the best I've had in years. I accidentally got chocolate cake on  my new whorish satin camisole, but there's something kind of endearing about that, isn't it? Whenever a baby trashes its first birthday cake, everyone acts like it's the cutest thing since the Olsens got their boobies. So therefore, it should be equally--if not more--adorable when a 27 year-old drunk ex-stripper smears birthday cake on her intimate apparel. I AM BETTER THAN A BABY, PEOPLE. I CAN TALK AND GIVE BLOW JOBS AND DO ALL KINDS OF THINGS THAT BABIES ARE TOO DENSE TO MASTER.

I got delightful gifts from Jonny, of course, plus a bottle of "Voovay Clickot" champagne delivered special from my awesome manager. I'll be popping that open as soon as I sober up from last night.

Ranch Experiment!: I'm growing out my pubic hair. I want to finally try getting waxed and I heard it needs to be pretty long to get a decent grip. I will be doing the wax myself (do not doubt my courage and fortitude) and I promise to document the process with photos of my howling, tearstained face. Meanwhile, I'm displeased with my new pubes. They're unruly and they're black. I've read so many issues of Playboy that I forgot that most people have dark kinky pubes, not the perfectly uniform strips of  bleached golden cornsilk seen on porn stars and titty models. Nobody has that naturally, do they?