If one more person wrote “Happy Birthday!” on Adam Levine’s facebook wall he was going to completely break with reality. He wanted to call all of these people and say “YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT MY BIRTHDAY” but they would just say “Stop acting like such a Jew, Adam.”
He just wished people would say something meaningful sometimes.
Adam didn’t want to get drunk and this was more alarming to him than full-blown alcoholism. His father had sat him down and said “Son, you’re 34 and you’re finally growing up.” A single tear leaked out of his eye. Adam knew this was supposed to be a happy father-son moment but it just made him feel old. Were the days of getting drunk every single night already over? Was he going to be one of those people who went to bed sober at 9 PM after marathoning Good Wife? He liked marathoning Good Wife but only when he made himself a banana/xanax smoothie. Was he too old for banana/xanax smoothies? He felt like he didn’t have any energy anymore. He just wanted that youthful drive to get super fucked up and make bad decisions all the time.
He just wanted to curl up in front of the fire underneath his mink throw, brew himself some green tea and settle down with a good book and it completely fucking terrified him.
1. What is your best friends name? Caitlin :) but I have so many! OMG GUYS DON'T GET UPSET
2. What color underwear/boxers wearing now? black sO boring but I hear it means you're into doing sex ;) <3
3. What are you listening to right now? my friend's editing a movie about turkeys omg so cute i loooooove turkeys 😍
4. Whats your favorite number? 36
5. What was the last thing you ate? cibatta bread and maple cashew butter i know i know sO pretentious.
6. If you were a crayon what color would you be? purple, Justin BIEBER'S favorite color.
7. How is the weather right now? so cold!
8. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Nathan's mom.
9. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? arms especially when they're really veiny like Dwayne Johnson The Rock o.O
10. Do you have a significant other? no single and ready to mingle! call me shia labeouf.
11. Favorite TV show? DAWSONS CREEK but sometimes veronica mars idk.
12. Siblings? 1
13. Height? 5'8
14. Hair color? brown with some purple my mom was SO mad
15. Eye Color? blue i think sometimes green
16. Do you wear contacts? no but i should. I actually really should get some... I can't see when I drive at night but I do anyway lol.
17. Favorite Holiday? my birthday
18. Month? my birthday month november but i hate that its cold gross cant wait to move to cali
19. Have you ever cried for no reason? if you call watching aristocats no reason than yes.
20. What was the last movie you watched? when harry met sally have u seen it it is SO romantic omg the orgasm scene in the deli i cant believe she did that like seriously omg
21. Favorite Day of the Year? November 29th my birthday <3
22. Are you too shy to ask someone out? boys should always ask girls out i don't have time for that lol i have soccer practice. select soccer > boys 4e
23. Can you do a headstand (not using the wall)? whats a headstand
24. Hugs or Kisses? i don't kiss and tell o.O
25. Chocolate or Vanilla? swirl
26. Do you want your friends to respond to this? i dont have any friends :( lol except caitlin
27. Who is most likely to respond to a text from you? my mom
28. Who is least likely to respond to a text from you? dad
29. What books are you reading? mortal instruments omg simon > jace any day of the week and if u disagree u obvs don't care about clary because jace is violent and like flowing blonde hair doesn't mean u can stab anyone u like
30. Piercings? 0 omg i hate needles.
31. Favorite movies? independence day dolphins tale how to lose a guy in 10 days
32. Favorite football Team? soccer > footbal fc dallas!
33. What are you doing right now? procrastinating on algebra hw lmao
34. Butter, Plain or Salted popcorn? i love butter but my dad hates it so we never get it ugh
37. Dogs or cats? turtles!!!1!!!!
38. Favorite flower? carnations :)
39. Been caught doing something you weren't supposed to do? ummmmmmm pass lol my mom follows my tumblr!
40. Do you have a best friend of the opposite sex? yes i HATE being friends with girls they're so mean. except caitlin <3
41. Have you ever loved someone? i love everyone except elizabeth i hate her and wish she was out of girl scouts and like if she died i would be sad becuase your supposed to be but i really wouldn't be sad lol is that bad?
42. Who would you like to see right now? my 1 and only crush (i'm not telling u shut up and it's not alex kaiser)
43. Are you still friends with people from kindergarten? trevor moved to a farm in michigan.
44. Have you ever fired a gun? Yes, and I'm pretty much amazing.
45. Do you like to travel by plane? i only travel by cruise ship.
46. Right-handed or Left-handed? i'm ambidexterous. ya. be jealous.
47. How many pillows do you sleep with? 3 and 12 stuffed animals! shoutout to rabbeee.
48. Are you missing someone? yes :(
49. Do you have a tattoo? no ew wanna be burried in a jewish cemetary yall.
50. Anybody on Tumblr that you'd go on a date with? yes... y won't he ask me out?
a short story about latin grammy award winner pitbull
Pitbull didn’t know what he liked more: dancing, dome or dealing drugs. He loved grinding on puntas even though it wasn’t as graceful as salsa or even mambo. There was something poetic about grinding— about rubbing your genitals on somebody’s thigh. He sometimes came in his pants but he wasn’t ashamed. It was natural to ejaculate. White people had way too many sexual hang-ups. Coming was coming was coming, Shakespeare said that shit.
He didn’t need to deal drugs but why not? It was beautiful to hand some two-bit pendejo a grimy dime of weed in the back of a silver maserati in North Beach. Dios mío, he loved to party.
He sometimes liked taking shots at the club better than railing hoes. Was that normal? Fuck it, of course it was normal. Fuck you for saying it wasn’t. He was Latin Grammy Award Winner Pitbull And All Yall Can Suck His Big Fat Cubano Dick. MR. WORLDWIDE!
Miley Cyrus stared at the wall of her bathroom. It looked alive, like some living bio membrane, like something out of Independence Day, how the space aliens were connected to their UFOs through mucus-y membranes Their space ships bled. Miley bet her wall bled too. Everything bled. Miley wrapped her arms around her knees and shook. She wished she could disappear into the wall.
Miley had tried to throw up earlier but for once in her life she couldn’t. Nothing would come out. She didn’t want to be high anymore. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. She heard someone laugh from the other room and shuddered. How could people eat this stuff and just LAUGH like nothing was WRONG when EVERYTHING WAS WRONG? Her friends were all like “Ooh! It’ll just be pretty colors and spirit animals.” What was wrong with them? Were they broken or something? Was she broken? She couldn’t stop touching her face but it felt so weird and alien she hated it. She couldn’t imagine looking at her cell phone. Why was everyone so glued to these tiny robots?
She heard someone say her name but she couldn’t go out there. She wouldn’t go out there. She would stay in the bathroom because even though the walls were alive at least nobody would talk to her or ask her questions. That made her feel better: the fact that she’d never leave this bathroom.. Of that, at least, she was certain.
She looked down at her trembling limbs. She was wearing a leotard and that was all. Why did she never wear clothes? She remembered Terry Richardson and the Wrecking Ball video and started shaking her head. “no no no no no” She kept saying to herself. Why did she do these things? Why did she do all these things? Why did she let people see her this way? This wasn’t even who she really was! Just an elaborate costume. She wished she could unzip her skin off. She dug her nails into her arms. They said this would be safer. It’s safer for nobody to know you. Who was anybody? The toilet paper was raised and glowered against the pale purple of the bathroom.
She couldn’t believe anybody did this for fun.
She wanted to be a child again under the covers of her mom’s big bed watching old episodes of Frasier. She wanted to be sober. She never wanted to feel like this ever again. Her skin crawled. Her stomach was in her throat and swaying like a boat on some stormy ocean. She couldn’t stop sweating but goosebumps rose on her legs like she was cold.
She was going to fire her fucking manager. She was going to stop having sex with Mike Will Made It. He didn’t like her. He wasn’t laughing with her he was laughing at her. Had she really smoked a blunt on the stage at the EMAs? She was going to quit drinking, at least for a week. Why did she have to dull her mind all the time? Was she that afraid of herself? The black-and-white tile danced and folded back on itself and burned itself into her brain. Someone knocked on the door. She stopped breathing, hoping they would realize nobody was in here and go away. The doorknob jiggled and she started crying a little bit. Her tears felt slimy on her cheeks. They went away and she started breathing again.
She missed Liam. He was the only person who really cared about her. She felt so alone. Her parents didn’t love her, they treated her like a paycheck. She hated the way her body felt. She turned on the shower and crawled into it. Maybe the scalding water would help. She sat for a few minutes but the water felt like snakes and she knew something was hiding in the steam watching her. She turned it off and tried to throw up again. There was poison inside her and she needed to expel it.
She couldn’t do it. The poison had won. She just wanted to feel normal again. Normal was so fucking underrated. She heard someone laughing from the other room. She hated them. They were evil and they didn’t understand real pain. She had to get out of here. She never wanted to see her friends ever again. She stood up on shaky legs, opened the door and bolted through the all white house into the Hollywood Hills.
The silhouettes of her old friends rushed past her periphery. They were fat and sweaty and scaly like prehistoric reptilians in human skin. They would eat her soul if they caught her. She ran faster, down the street. Her bare feet were bleeding but it was worth it. She was going back home. She would walk to Nashville if she had to.
She can’t fucking believe she thought this all would make her more grown up.
“Apart from performing live, Zayn says that his favourite part of touring is being on the tour bus!! “My best experience of touring is being on the tour bus, like just chilling out,” Zayn told Orlando radio station Mix105.1. “Like after the show, when you get off the stage and you’re on the tour bus, chilling out, that’s cool.”—Zayn Malik just really likes chilling out, guys.
Zayn Malik sat at Le Basket and gazed into one another’s eyes. The bike messengers threw a water balloon at a tourist.
"One minute," Zayn said. He walked over to the lead bike messenger, back-handed him hard across the face and said "NEVER COME BACK HERE EVER AGAIN YOU DISRESPECTFUL, FUCKING DEGENERATES." The bike messenger started crying and he pedaled away sadly down Broadway. His gang followed. Zayn returned and he and Kate chugged tall boys of Bud Light Lime.
"Do you want to go to Disney World?" Zayn asked and Kate nodded because duh. They hopped in a car and drove the entire way there, stopping intermittently to take acid in the woods. They would hold hands and walk through Civil War battlefields and it was a little scary but Zayn never judged her for that. He knew that bad trips existed and that they were a thing to be Respected. Zayn and Kate thought drugs were cool but also whatever. It was just cool to be alive.
Kate’s friends didn’t like Zayn. “Kate, have you ever thought Zayn might be using you because he’s an international pop star and you’re just an ordinary girl from Texas?” but Fuck them. Kate sometimes brought up this concern with Zayn and he would take her head in his hands and say “They don’t know about us” which is also, funnily enough, a One Direction song.
Zayn and Kate got to Disney World. They closed it down to everyone but Zayn and Kate because Zayn was famous and they rode Space Mountain 20 times in a row. They ate as much Dole Whip as they wanted. They got really fucking wasted at the Animal Kingdom and accidentally broke a dinosaur display. They went to Blizzard Beach water park and Justin Bieber came to say hi and he brought Ciroc, cocaine and 20 hookers. That was a cool night. They went to Universal Studios one night and had sex in the Twister ride WHILE it was on which was AWESOME. They rode Splash Mountain and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and the Tower of Terror. They ate a bunch of awesome food and did a lot of awesome drugs. It was all pretty awesome.
"This is the best day of my entire life," Kate said and Zayn agreed because, come on guys.
Adam Levine used to think that he was severely unhappy with his life but it turns out he’s just severely hungover a majority of the time. He rescheduled everything he had to do today and fantasized, literally fantasized, about eating spaghetti later in the day. Why did breakfast exist? Couldn’t breakfast just be dinner?
Adam wished he was better at being “busy.” He didn’t understand all of these people who had “so much work to do.” Didn’t they know that everything could be rescheduled? Everything could be put off? Adam was convinced being busy was a myth. That it was some legend invented by people who Just Didn’t Want To Hang Out With You That Much. Sometimes Adam’s friends would ask him what he was doing that night, he would say “Nothing, watching Gilmore Girls reruns” and they would make this face like “Aw, that’s sad.” Why is it fucking sad? What is more important than that? What makes their shit more important than his shit? Just because you’re unhappy doesn’t mean your experiences are more authentic.
Adam Levine didn’t really believe this. He was just really, really hungover.
Adam didn’t want to have sex with anyone. It would just be nice if a girl told him he was handsome and worthwhile. It had been a long time since anybody had told him he was worthwhile. Everybody took him for granted. He kept himself going by listening to One Direction songs and imagining their faces when he finally worked up the courage to tell them to fuck off.
Adam got in his car even though he was still drunk and headed for the beach. It was a Jodi Picolout and tanning Sort Of Day. Fuck every other human.
Zayn Malik and Kate Shapiro sat in cushy lounge chairs by the private pool of their cabana in the Maldives. They each read a Hunger Games book. They’re both Team Peeta but they admit he can be a little bit of a bitch. They’re both excited for how the whole “LSD-torture-Clockwork-Orange” thing in Mockingjay will play out in film. They take long breaks from reading to drink spicy-but-not-too-spicy Bloody Mary’s and to discuss all this.
Zayn puts his book down. “Wanna have sex?” He asks Kate.
She thinks for a minute. “Yeah, but like five minutes or less?”
"Totally, I know you’re saying that because you’re actually tired and not because you don’t want to have sex with me because I am secure and comfortable in my own skin." He says. They have sex and it’s great.
Zayn wraps his arms around Kate. He turns towards her, kisses her hair and whispers into her ear: “Hey Kate, want to do a bunch of speed based ecstasy but NOT MOLLY BECAUSE MOLLY IS WEAK OVERRATED BULLSHIT, go to the club, get bottle service, force the DJ who is Calvin Harris to play Kanye West all night long, dance, skateboard, take a midnight swim in the ocean, board a yacht, beat up the owners, chug Dom Perignon and have a weird but not TOO weird threesome with Calvin Harris?”
"I love you," Kate says to Zayn for the first time because fucking— because for the first time someone understood her.
"I love you too," He says and kisses her. He stands up and holds out to his hand to her. She can only see his outline against the brilliant sunlight. "Come on, lets go."
"Can a good thing last forever?" Kate thought. She hoped so.
It had been two days since Blake Shelton had retired to his bedroom with a bottle of gin and an eight-ball of cocaine and he felt GREAT but also TERRIBLE. He compulsively watched episodes of The Good Wife “DON’T DATE YOUR BOSS, GOOD WIFE, HE’S A SMARMY BASTARD.” He had a feeling Good Wife wouldn’t listen to him. Nobody listened to him. Sometimes he felt that everyone was a figment of his imagination because he would say reasonable things and nobody ever listened to him. It’s normal to ignore what people said sometimes but all the time? Blake took his iPhone and threw it against the wall. It was an evil thing and Blake didn’t let evil things into his life anymore: just gin, cocaine and Good Wife.
Blake Shelton longed to be immature again. He wished he still punched people in bars. He wished he still wrecked his relationships with his friends and family because YOLO. He wished he had his nervous breakdowns in public instead of knowing better. He didn’t want to know better. He wanted to get back to a place of blissful ignorance. He wanted to be selfish again. Instead he swallowed his pride because he knew better and dealt with his problems alone in his bedroom like an adult. God, he just wanted to fight somebody.
Motherfuck, he was beginning to sound like Adam Levine. He needed to make plans. So what if Miranda changed her number without telling him and moved to Nashville because she felt whatever the fuck it was she felt towards Blake? Culpable or melancholy or insecure or remorseful or what the fuck. He hoped she made shitty music and also for laughing children to throw vegetables at her on the street. Because fuck her. Because fuck everyone. He was Blake Shelton and he was high on cocaine and he was going to make plans.It was time to make plans because Miranda was completely fucking retarded. She was immature and self-obsessed and DELUSIONAL and she didn’t care about Blake but you know who DID care about Blake? Blake cared about Blake.
He broke a chair on his bureau. He guess that helped. He turned up that terrible Kelly Clarkson song and took all his clothes off “WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU MAKES YOU STRONGER JUST ME MYSELF AND I” Blake started laughing maniacally and clawing at his body like an animal. Oh, he knew what he was going to do. He was going to go to the gym, run for an hour and rawdog that personal trainer who looks like Taylor Swift in the locker room. Then he was going to score meth because meth was way better than shiteating cocaine. Fuck yeah, that’s a plan! He was making plans! Everything was going to be okay.
“The day when it will be possible for the woman to love in her strength and not in her weakness, not to escape from herself but to find herself, not out of resignation but to affirm herself, love will become for her as for man; the source of life and not a mortal danger.”—The Second Sex (via meggiegem)