February 18, 2008

• I’m a Xangalebrity!

  The moment I made Xanga’s “Featured Blogrings” list for the second time in my entire blogging career, I knew my life completely changed. No longer could I live as someone who averages 4 eprops, 2 comments, and 76 footprints (70 of them being my own) a month–a lifestyle that revolved around chili cheese fries (extra chili and cheese) and diet soda; granny panties and sweats; “Cops” marathons; “Dance Dance Revolution” exercise regiments; kitten collecting…it all had to go. I had hit the big time and there was no turning back. I was now…a celebrity…no, I was a Xangalebrity!

  Given my rise in social status, I had to make some changes as part of my transition from commoner to not-so-commoner. First things first, I needed an assistant and PR person. All celebrities must have someone to be their bitch answer phones, pick up dry cleaning, and throw Blackberries at. It is also equally important to have someone who can BS the media when the celebrity is caught flashing her hairy va-jay-jay as she’s exiting a car. Some might say I don’t need either because the only person who ever calls me is the Pizza Hut delivery boy, and because I only wear panties that go down to my ankles. However, I was certain I’d eventually be too busy being famous to pick up the phone or wear underwear, and therefore had to find myself a Farnsworth Bentley ASAP–a BS-ing Farnsworth Bentley because my income of $ 0.00 made it difficult to hire both an assistant and a PR person (unless one of them accepted cat hair as a form of currency).

  Anyway, I thought I’d do the Puff Daddy thing and put up a video on YouTube, but for some reason none of the major television production companies returned my calls. I knew they weren’t busy shooting television shows…but I figured they were just too intimidated by my Xangalebrity power to work with me. Instead, I posted an advertisement on Craigslist: “Asian female seeking qualified individual to attend to her needs. Must be able to multitask and have good oral skills.” Five seconds later, my inbox was flooded with responses–some of which included pictures of genitals–all from people wanting to be my piece of ass and not my assistant. *Wer-wer* Apparently, only those who cannot read try to find jobs on Craigslist…as well as people with very small dongs.

  When I became violently ill from having to squint so long, I decided to put my assistant/PR person hunting off until later. I had to go to class that evening, even though I was famous and no longer needed higher education. It would be the first time I ventured out into public since becoming a Xangalebrity, and I was very worried about being hounded by the paparazzi and autograph seekers. I decided the best thing to do was put on a disguise. I didn’t have any wigs, hats, or sunglasses–but I did have this homeless person costume I bought for Halloween 2007. Being incredibly smart and capable of thinking on my feet, I was able to come up with a perfect plan in less than two hours: I would wear the costume to school! That way, everyone would think I was some random hobo prowling the halls, allowing me to avoid photographers and fans and still be able to attend my second class (missed the first one while thinking of my perfect plan)!

  When I got to school, I was still high on being a genius–which was probably why I didn’t notice the huge pile of poop on the grassy knoll until I stepped in it. And I mean it was huge; possibly cow or Great Dane. It stuck to the bottom of my left, open-toe Keds sneaker and added about 3 inches of height, making it difficult for me to walk without looking like I had a severe limp. Thank goodness I was dressed like a homeless dude, because those freaky tabloids would have gone ape sh*t over seeing me in sh*t and attacked by angry flies (they were very, very angry…I’d be upset if someone stepped in my doodoo buffet too). However, I decided not to risk staying outdoors for too long so I quickly ran into the building.

  Upon entry, I could tell right away that no one had any idea that the poop-shoed, limping, homeless dude standing in the hall was really me, a Xangalebrity. All the students who saw me were staring and whispering stuff like, “what the hell?” and “he smells whack.” It was such a great reception, and I really wanted to stick around and watch people cringe away from me, but a security guard showed up and told me to leave. I tried to explain that I was a student of the school who dressed as a stinky hobo in order to avoid photographers and fans, but he wasn’t having it. Kept saying something about me being crazy and demanding that I get my “rank ass out” or else he would call the police. I panicked at the thought of cops coming: they would probably check my ID and confirm I was really a student, and then the security guard would apologize for the misunderstanding and let me go to my class–but…it also meant everyone would learn my identity! And then the paparazzi would take pictures and videos of me looking like a hot mess and put it up on YouTube…! And then I would have to go on “Larry King Live” to tell my side of the story because I didn’t have an assistant/PR person who could spin the situation! And that would require buying a plane ticket with money instead of frequent flier miles because Hawaiian Airlines does not fly to New York!

  So I went home.

  I thought I deserved to have some fun after all that drama, and decided to go out and party with fellow A-listers. According to Perez Hilton and TMZ, celebrities go to Hyde Lounge–which of course meant that I was supposed to go there too. But I had to do some serious prepping first. Being in the biz, I could not be seen wearing the same stuff as the regular people–I had to wear the best, trendiest, most amazing outfit and accessories if I wanted to maintain my image, i.e., my blue junior prom dress, a pair of faux crocodile skin boots, and my designer Hucchi purse. I was so hot, it made the people on the bus stare and point at me. Yes, I took the bus to Hyde. I didn’t want to drive around Los Angeles, and none of my friends would take me because they refused to be part of my posse. They kept telling me I wasn’t famous at all and shouldn’t embarass myself any more than I already had. It’s sad how friends act differently towards you when you become a Xangalebrity.

  By the time I arrived at Hyde, there was a long line of people trying to get in–but I didn’t have to wait because I was better than them. Instead, I walked right up to the doorman, whose name was probably Biff or Meats, and tried to give him the standard air kisses but he pushed me away.

  “What do you want, lady?” he asked. “Your costume party is not here.”

  “What do you mean ‘what do you want’? I want to get in and hang out with my girls, Paris and Lindsay.”

  Biff/Meats must have had a hearing problem because he started laughing at me.

  “Get in the back of the line.” he said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah right. That line is for the commoners.”

  Biff/Meats continued to ignore me, but I wasn’t worried. I had come prepared to meet ig’nant fools like him who were too busy being ig’nant to keep up with important news, like me becoming famous. I reached into my purse and pulled out my secret weapon: a color-printout of Xanga’s homepage, with my Valentine’s Day post listed under “Featured Blogrings.” I threw it into Biff/Meats’ face, shouting, “Chiggity check yo’self before you wreck yo’self!”

  Biff/Meats glanced at it, tore it up, and handed the little bits back to me.

  “Hello!” I said. ”Didn’t you notice I was Featured last week? That’s the second time I’ve made the list, and that means I’m a Xangalebrity!”

  “Don’t know and don’t care. You’re not getting in, so get the step’n.” He said.

  “Fine,” I replied. “Then maybe this will educate you some.”

  I handed him a dollar bill. He tore that up too!

  “That was a dollar bill,” I explained to him. “It’s what we use for money. You must not be used to seeing it because you get paid in ‘roids.”

  No, I didn’t get in to Hyde Lounge that evening.

  I was extremely depressed about how little respect I had received despite my Xangalebrity status, and decided to call my sister for comfort. I explained about how I became superior to everyone else because I had been Featured twice, and yet no one was acknowleding me for my accomplishments. Her response, after asking me many times if I was being serious, was:

  “I think you were Featured because the Xanga Team found out you were sacrificing fetuses in order to make it on the list. They probably threw your blog up there so that you would stop practicing arcane rituals.”

  *uncomfortable silence*

  “Wait,” I said. “Does that mean…?”

  “Yes, it means you inadvertently put up an ad looking for a male prostitute, went to school dressed as a homeless person who stepped in a mountain of doodoo, and tried to get into Hyde while looking like a tranny prom queen. You got PWNED by yourself.”

  *tumbleweed*

  ---

  This is way overdue, but I have been studying for an evidence midterm *cry* and haven’t had a whole lot of time to Xanga. Thank you guys so much for giving me eprops on my Valentine’s Day entry! I really appreciate all the comments. You guys have such great senses of humor! I love it! Good thing I didn’t actually have a harem because, wow, some of your suggestions were brutal!

  Thanks again!

  • 4:39 pm
  • 181 Comments