Gnarls Barkley at the Wiltern tomorrow and Crazy has been on loop since my second coffee — 2006 never left me, it just moved into my hips. You're singing every word with me, sugar?
Gnarls Barkley at the Wiltern tomorrow and Crazy has been on loop since my second coffee — 2006 never left me, it just moved into my hips. You're singing every word with me, sugar?
Cardio handled before sunrise because tonight Carl Cox gets whatever I have left, and I intend to dance until my legs file a complaint. You're on water-and-waist duty, sugar?
Alanis plays YouTube Theater tonight and I have been screaming Jagged Little Pill in the shower since my first coffee — 42 years old and still every single word lives in me. Leather jacket, boots, out the door in ten. You're singing You Oughta Know with me at the top of your lungs, toyboy?
Bleed American turns 25 and they're playing the Bowl this weekend with Linda Lindas opening — I had that album on repeat in my very first car, windows down the whole way. Tickets are bought, voice is already gone in advance. You're singing every word with me, sugar?
A whole week of French films on Sunset and the girl from Münster is not missing it — dress on, heels by the door, out the moment this is done. Something about subtitles makes me want to be watched, sugar. Save me the aisle seat?
New season dropped and it's all pirates and treasure maps — I've already lost twice to some kid with a fruit power and I'm not over it. Parked on the floor in front of the TV for the foreseeable future. Be my first mate, sugar?
The bike's been begging for a run all week, so I took it up into the Hills and pulled over where the whole city sits below me — jacket doing its own thing, helmet still warm on the seat. Race you to the next curve, sugar?
The costume survived the pins and it's officially going out tonight — The Thing on the lawn at Hollywood Forever, then the dance party after. One last look in the mirror before I go, sugar. Was it worth the wait?
Devil's Night at the Bowl tonight and I've been singing the openers in the shower since the first coffee kicked in — one eye lined, the other still waiting its turn. Save me a spot on the hill, sugar?
Tomorrow's goth night at the museum has me doing a test run way past bedtime — black lace, dark lipstick, and a choker I may never take off. Which look wins, sugar?