12.02.2004 - 4:20 p.m.
Thursday
When you keep your Dear Diary on the internet instead of, I don't know, secured by lock and key and hidden under your mattress, it goes with the territory that at some point people who you wish wouldn't read it, will. I feel like for the most part I've been lucky - I've had the privilege of supportive readers who make me feel like I have this group of wonderful friends, this network of "Hey, me too!" and "You might want to try X" and "I hope you're doing okay" and all kinds of amazing comments and emails that have made my day, time and time again.
Today I got a comment on a recent entry - an entry where I vented about how I'm sometimes unhappy with my job and wish I could figure out how to make things better. I didn't think this was something that would inspire controversy, it was just a brain dump on a shitty Monday morning, but someone was sufficiently irritated by the post they left me a lovely comment about how "spoiled and self-satisfied" I am, and how it's "no wonder I drink too much."
I'm not really sure why I'm writing about this, I guess the only thing that would make the sort of person who would leave a comment like that feel even more awesome about themselves is if I confessed publicly about how bad it made me feel, but oh man it made me feel so bad.
It's not just that someone thought I sounded spoiled and whiny, because they weren't the only person to say that. But why choose to be so personally mean? Why not just think, "that Sundry, what a rectum," and move along? What inspires such venom in someone who's never even met me? It seems scary and sad that someone has been privy to my personal demons would choose to use them against me, all for the sin of talking about challenges with a job they know nothing about.
Now I sound even whinier, don't I? Jesus.
Well.
Anyway.
The rest of you, you're a batch of chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven.
:::
NEW SUBJECT THAT IS NOT ABOUT DEPRESSING STUFF BUT IS INSTEAD ABOUT PORN
So, I totally watched that Paris Hilton sex video. Why, you ask? Well, JB's brother had a copy and gave it to JB last week, and I have to confess, I was curious.
I know - I'm a bad person. Just ask the anonymous commenter!
The video starts out in a bedroom, shot in green night vision. A TV is blaring in the background while Paris and the guy, some yahoo named Rick Salomon, get in a number of different uncomfortable-looking positions, him all the while grunting and heaving like an angry elephant seal. Paris, for her part, acts as though she is enduring a particularly lengthy dentist appointment, at one point taking a break to answer her phone.
Then there's footage of her in a hotel bathroom. She's primping and preening in front of the mirror, while he trains the camera on her and says stupid things. He giggles, "Show me your pussy," and she exclaims "EWWW!!!!!" in shrieking disgust.
It moves on to the hotel bedroom, which is about as classy looking as a Motel 6. Wait, isn't she a billionaire or something? What's with the tacky digs? Who knows. Anyway, he puts the camera on a table or something to record more HOT SEX ACTION, which mostly consists of him gnawing endlessly at her girl parts while she yawns and checks her nails.
Finally, there's a blowjob scene that lasts so long my jaws started to ache in sympathy. It's the only part where she looks remotely involved, if for no other reason that she's got a dick halfway down her esophagus.
The whole thing isn't sexy in the least, maybe mostly because you can't help feeling sorry for Paris Hilton. Thousands of pervy dicktowels like me have now seen her trilling her Simple Life laugh while buck naked with what has turned out to be the world's worst boyfriend.
There are some "extras" on the DVD, I guess to market the porntasticness of the company that put out the video. If I were the sort of girl to admit I watched those too, I would tell you about Teagan and her self-proclaimed "hot, 18 year old ass", but uhh....I totally turned it off and read the bible instead.
:::
If you'd like to receive a painstakingly HAND-CRAFTED holiday card from me, send me your address! If I can put down the bottle long enough to send them out, that is. Sorry, I'm all out of materials. Also, energy.
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