HARRY POTTER, MY BITCH

In honor of the new Harry Potter book that's coming out today, I'd like to remind you all that I once looked like Hermione and had the greatest pair of breasts. See for yourself right here when I was on SNL. Puke.

Check Out My Old Knockers (quicktime video)

GET A LIFE, PEOPLE

I'm sick of everybody in the comments section who say that this blog is fake. What's so fake about it, retards? And what does it matter to you anyway? These are real words. My feelings are real. I am real. My blood is real when I scratch my legs at night, and the blood that stains my sheets is also real.

Who wants to be a celebrity? Yes, who? Somebody please step up to the plate. Wannabees. All of you.

The truth is...you have no idea how lonely it is in this little Hollywood Bubble. Sure, if you listened to the tabloids you'd think I have the perfect life. And in many ways I do. Nice car. Nice paychecks. Guys everhwhere.

But I'm trapped. I'm paralyzed.

I wake up in the morning and I feel nothing. Numb. The phone rings, and it keeps on ringing...but I feel alone.

Yeah, I wonder how all this is possible, too. How can a girl be on the cover of every magazine and yet, feel so worthless.

A dozen people stop me on the street on my way home. They'd be confused if I told them that I was going home -- not to pick out my wardrobe for the premiere this weekend -- but to snort blow, dip my finger down my throat or drink myself into oblivion.

You have no idea. You don't. Part of my wants to laugh but most of me wants to cry. I don't feel sorry for you I feel sorry about myself.

You have no idea.

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Yesterday T came over and asked what was wrong. He handed me a book and I almost through it at his face. Thinks he can solve the world and my problems. He has no idea.

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I never really learned how to cook. I'll go out today if I have to, if I ever get hungry again. I remember mom used to cook us meatloaf on Wednesdays. Always the meatloaf. And could you believe it, I ate it all the time. Today she called me up and asked if I was doing alright and of course, like a good daughter, I said, "Yes mom, I'm doing fine."

She has no idea.

You have no idea.

I don't think I have any idea.

L.LO

LOST AND HUNGRY

Something I wrote when I just swallowed a few Ambien last night (or early morning, whateve...)

I sit around my hotel room and i think,
Of running to the toilet, I'm on the brink,
I turn on CNN,
Fish and Chips, my friend,
I don't want to eat them anymore,
But not 'cause of bombs, because they are high in fatty acids and will turn my ass into cottage cheese.
So I sit here, I read,
I watch the TV,
Susan Summers squeezes her legs,
I wish I didn't have cankles,
I don't know how much longer I can eat with my teeth,
I'm getting fat, and I'm beginning to quif.
That's disgusting, you say?
Well I'm an Ana-Girl, Okay?
We are mad bitches with lots of tude.
I got Tupac on my side, how 'bout you?
I slash your throat with a razor blade,
Make you gay,
Make my day, bitch,
Eat a twinkie.
Eat a baby.
Eat anything.
I'll barf it out like a teepee.

-L.LO
-2:45 AM, Los Angeles

OH.

And BTW. The ass who snapped this photo is going down.


Yes, these are my teeth.