Shallon Lester's Blog, page 14

Extra Virgin

It's official, Jason is taking me to the Virgin Islands for Thanksgiving!

California is always too far/expensive to go to for Thanksgiving so I typically stay here. But Jason had some hotel nights to use so we thought, why not get the F outta town, to a place where I don't have neighbors complaining to my super about "intimate noises" all the goddamn time. I'M YOUNG AND HOT leave me alone!

We were originally going to go to Miami for Turkey Day but the W Hotel down there is all booked (booo) so we're staying at the Westin in St. John!!!!

The upside is:

 

 

The downside:

These days I feel more like this…

Instead of this:

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I need to get my fat fanny to the gym…and/or kill Abbey Clancy, just because you don't need the comparison.

 

Kind of Want.

The other weekend was the christening for my BFF Klo's baby girl, Brayton!  I still can't quite believe that my Klo has a baby. Like, a human baby. Not one of her four cats, or simply a very large burrito that she smiles sweetly at when drunk.

BrayBop is so soft and squishy and cooey and gurgly…I kinda…I mean I'm not totally opposed to…sigh…I'll stop now.

Want.

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Pfeiffer's doggy, Bailey, a King Charles spaniel. It's a breed that I'm stone cold obsessed with and Beezle here is no exception. Pfeiffy had about 10 of us over the other night to watch the World Series/feed us until we're too full to sleep on our backs (true story!) and getting to see Bailey was definitely a bonus.

Want want waaaannnnt!! That SNOUT!

Shallon's Rules for Dating: What NOT to Say on a First Date!

I have a serious problem with OSS—Over Share Syndrome. On a first date, I'm not even half way through my white wine sprizter when I'm blah blah blahing about my deepest darkest secrets. I WAS ON A REALITY SHOW FOR GOD SAKES, what do you expect of me?!

But in this instance, do as I say, not as I do. Here, along with super cute aminal pics just because, are the topics that I have learned (the hard way) to avoid on a first date…

 

1. Sex

Oh you like it? You're quite good at it? Great STFU. If all you want from the date is to get laid, by all means, bring up sex even in the most vague general terms. But if you want your boy to see you as a lady worthy of respect and not a one-night stand, zip the lip when it comes to Ps in Vs or S'ing Ds. You know what I'm talking about…

2. Money

The economy sucks, everyone knows. But mentioning, even oh-so-casually that you're broke or donw on your luck is the quickest route to "over it!" Guys, this is especially important for you. Nothing turns a girl off like having to spend the entire date angsting over whether or not he's going to pay!

 

3. Family Tragedy

Ladies, here's a secret. You can always tell when a guy just wants to bone you because he pours out some deep dark family saga on the first date. This way, when he makes the move, you can't counter with "But we don't even know each other!" Seriously. And girls, he doesn't need to know about your absentee daddy or sister in rehab just yet, as fun as those topics are. Save the heavy stuff for the heavier relationship status!

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4. Everything You Hate About Your Life

Guess what, your problems aren't that interesting. The kiss of dating death is a negative nelly, so ladies please don't be the girl that bitches about the food, waiter, your job, your roommate, and everything in between. Who would want to keep hanging out with that?

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5. Your Ex

TRUST ME, never, never ever ever bring up your ex. Ever, if possible. Not on the first date, not on the 30th. If the subject becomes unavoidable, or your date asks you a pointed question, answer it and change the subject. Don't explain or elaborate. Trust me.

My New Favorite Thing: Gigolos

Um ok, how have I NEVER seen Gigolos on Showtime until now?! Alright, me not having Showtime might factor into it, but finally I have seen the insane glory that is Gigolos.  It's basically a porny reality show about Las Vegas male escorts, all of whom seem to have stock in Mystic Tan.

Keep in mind, I found it nearly impossible to find a guy to have a G-rated date filmed for Downtown Girls. But Showtime managed to find women who are willing to get nailed on camera. I mean…

But the real thrill off the show is the absolute freakshow gigolos themselves. Let's take a look:

VIN:

Pick a race, will you please?

 




STEVE:

Ok, he's actually pretty hot. I'd do him. Would I pay to do him? HAHAHAHAH! No. God no. Mostly because he has this weird voice that makes him sound like he's either deaf or missing all his back teeth.

 




NICK:

"Hi I'm a desperate woman with $700 to blow and a penchant for wiggers in Affliction shirts, what do you have for me?" That would be Nick. He is an aspiring rapper (of course) and has a very shiny chain wallet. I mean, how could he not charge for his company??

BRACE:

The name alone is enough to make me demand a refund, but the white-blonde hair and saddle-colored skin makes him look like a film negative. Pauly D, say hello to yourself in 15 years.

The One Who Looks Like He Has AIDS:

I'm not sure what this guys name is, I don't think he actually has one. He's clearly the go-to for chicks with Ethopian and/or Dawson's Creek fetishes.

I'm so hooked.

Screw You, Yap Voicemail

If you, like me, HATE listening to voicemails, then you probably downloaded the Yap visual voicemail application. And, like me, you probably were confronted with absolute incoherent nonsense. Case in point, this "message" left by my 87-year-old grandma Gigi:

"Hi sweetie, just wanted to tell you that and they're working on your your front patio today. Right now they're out and getting some other stuff. I I'm filling out something right now and and I need your Mother's help on that too so anyway draw a shark.

I talk to you later baby hope you're having a fine do more. So, OK. Bye-bye. I might try calling your mom now and shit and asking her something. OK. Bye-bye."

Yeeeah. Pretty sure Gigi doesn't drop S-bombs and shark-themed art isn't exactly her favorite.

Party Like It's 1989

If you've ever been out with me, you know that I love Imeanmothingfucking LOVE to dance. But I'm not one of those girls who can stand dancing up against guys. Get the hell off me, you have no rhythm and I do. I need space, room to maneuver and shake and pop and/or lock. But that's hard to come by in clubs.

Whiten your teeth before you go; blacklight is everywhere

So imagine my delight when I was invited to last week's opening of Culture Club, which was a hotspot in the 80s that had been shuttered until now. Debbie Gibson—yes, that Debbie Gibson—bought it and revamped it.

She hosted the party last night and sang "Shake Your Love" and my 7 year old self who got her cassette for Christmas was pretty psyched.

Debbie G dancing with Dennis Quaid from the 80s, I think

Admittedly though, I actually don't particularly fancy the 80s. Even as a child, I knew that the styles grown-ups were wearing and the weird synth music they were listening to was goddamned awful, but I played along.

Don't adjust your monitor...that was really the color of my lipstick

But last night was SO MUCH FUN. For one, I took Christine who is the best dancer I've ever seen and goes balls-out on the dancefloor even more than I do.

Chrissy busts a move in a dance-off with a Jewish banker who was dominating the dancefloor

 

Chrissy busts a move in a dance-off with a Jewish banker who was dominating the dancefloor


Two, we drank funny shots named things like the Ghostbuster and the Vanilla Ice. As I mentioned on Twitter, the Ronald Reagan shot looked the best but out of principle, I refused to order it.

Don't ask what's in the Amy Fisher shot...

Three, not only was everyone dancing—except that twat Kou rtney Kardashian who refused to get up from her perch in the back, loser—but they were dancing for the pure joy of dancing. No one was trying to grind on each other or be pervy.

Quote of the night was courtesy of Chrissy: "There are LOT of people are looking for dance battles here. Not hookups, just dance battles."

Eighties music doesn't really lend itself to rubbing your boner on some unsuspecting girl, and for that, Culture Club, you are now my new favorite place to party. Radical!

Wild Child

The happiest day of 2011 has been the day my Zoobooks subscription began arriving. Not only am I stuffed to the gills with inane animal trivia (baby penguins spend their days with dozens of other baby pens in "penguin day care", watched over by old female penguins, while their parents go out and fish) but I also get to be regaled with the "art" submitted by kids in every issue.

Take a look at the latest "drawings" stinking up my otherwise impeccable Baby Animals Special Issue.

1.    O Gator, My Gator
Unless you're Robert Frost, your shit needs to rhyme, kid. You call this a poem?? It doesn't make any goddamn sense. When's the last time you saw an alligator tap on anything? Go on Janelle, I'll wait while you try to come up with some idiotic answer. And why is an alligator fun inside? Pervert.

2.    Octopuss Chung
Oh, so all octopi are Chinese, is that it Crockett? What the fuck is wrong with you.

3.    Ele-nocerous
This looks like a cross between testicles and a can opener. Are those…tusks? Horns? Fangs? Drawings like this are what gives poachers justification to kill. You're a bad person.

4.    ????
Look Tom, I'm not sure where you were raised but if this is the kind of animal you encounter on a daily basis, gnaw through your restraints and get the hell out of there.

Kirstie Alley is a Dirty, Flabby Liar

I love it when celebrities pretend that they're six sizes smaller than they are, AS IF every one on earth can't look down at their own body and go, "Um…I don't think so."

Case in point, beefarino Kirstie Alley, who hilariously pretends that she's lost 100lbs to become a size 4.

First of all, I know for a FACT that any weight she did lose is through surgery, not Jenny Craig or whatever. And secondly, that bitch ain't a 4. If she's a 4, I'm a zero. No, no I'm one of those double zeroes they only sell at Wet Seal for Asian girls who never really gained much past the age of 9.

Let's do a little photo comparison, shall we? This is Kirstie the other day at fashion week:

 

Sure, she looks good…but she's not a size fucking four. Meanwhile, here's me (in the pink) at an event:

 

I'm thinner right? Well I'm a SIZE 6. Some days, I'm even an 8. I don't have her giant thighs and wide-screen ass. If she had said "I went from a size 28 to a 12″ I'd be like hey good job fatty, well done. But since she's going to try to lure everyone into make believe land where she's a 4 and kale is delicious and Sarah Palin is literate, then I'm not fucking buying it. Are you?

Shallon's Rules for Dating: Dressing for a First Date

It doesn't matter if you've know your date for 13 years or you've never seen each other in person—what you wear and how you look is HUGELY important.

Now, I like to dress like a tramp. Seriously I do. Bebe dresses are kind of my favorite, and I take no pleasure in admitting that. If it were up to me, I'd wear the shortest, tightest, sluttiest thing on every single date, but I'd also be boyfriendless. Sure, they love it, but not on a potential GF.

My go-to look, if I were allowed

Here's how to tweak your style to up the chances of a second date, and lower your odds of him just wanting to bone you after dinner and never call again!

 

Clothes:

A man's favorite outfit on a girl (besides whipped cream)? Jeans and a tank top, for the same reasons casting directors insist models wear this very outfit—so they can see your body.

For those bitches without muffin tops

But that's not always your most comfy/ flattering option. If you hate jeans (as I do) go with a dress NO MORE than 3 inches above the knee (I know, I hate it too) and pair with tights if the weather is cold.

You see boring, boys see future wife!

Basically, dress as though his mom might join you for dessert.

 

Shoes:

For god sakes, make sure you can walk in them. A man doesn't give an F if they're Manolos, Loubs or anything else he can't pronounce. But he does care if he has to hold you up like a foal learning to walk all night long.

Spoiler alert: guys find Gaga disgusting!

Makeup:

I love me some seriously smoky eyes and over-glossed lips. My boyfriend? Not so much. Boys definitely do not understand 99% of makeup "trends" so don't bother trying to craft the perfect cat eye or matte red lips. They don't like it. Biologically speaking, evolution programmed men to love big bright eyes (Visene, black liner, black mascara), rosy cheeks (blush on the high apples of your cheeks close to the eye, which are associated with a youthful look) , and wet lips (gloss) since it reminds men of when a woman's other lips get, ahem, wet.

I don't like her, but dudes do.

 

Hair:

One word: touchable! Stiff, fried, frizzy or fuzzy hair need not apply in Shallon's Perfect First Date World.

I won't lie, I'd do her.

 

And there you have it! Next week I'll illuminate the do's and don'ts of first date conversations, get excited!