I hope we have recreational space travel within my lifetime. And I’d kind of prefer it if all the extraterrestrials didn’t hate Americans by the time that happens.

When I went to high school in Germany, my (brief) boyfriend at the time was beaten up by protesters during anti-American missile riots. His father actually was a Colonel in the U.S. Air Force, but the pacifists clocked him for a beating because he was hanging out with someone whose parents were attached to an African embassy. Although the hilarious irony of getting his ass kicked by pacifists was lost on their victim, the fact that Americans don’t always exactly get the benefit of the doubt abroad really is kind of a drag.

This weekend, NASA TV will be rebroadcasting an event they did today to raise awareness of the need for clean water. Guy Laliberte, founder of — wait for it — Cirque de Soleil, spent some time on the space station to put this fiesta together and other celeb participants included “former Vice President Al Gore, Canadian Space Agency astronaut Julie Payette, actress Salma Hayek and singers Shakira and Bono.”

But the salient point here is that WE JUST BOMBED THE MOTHERFUCKING MOON! In theory, the idea was to check whether the moon has water we could utilize. Presumably by bombing it. According to multiple accounts in the world’s media, the Indian moon mission Chandrayaan already clearly scientifically proved that there is water on the moon. And they didn’t need to bomb anything to prove it.

Many conjecture that the USA is testing a new warhead. I hope not, but I also know that, despite all our hand-wringing about nuclear disarmament, our country is the only one asshole enough to actually have dropped atomic bombs on human beings.

On a lighter note, after the first broadcast of the NASA and Cirque de Soleil collaboration Moving Stars and Earth for Water, my Twitter lit up with the banter of my witty compatriots. Forrest Black tweeted, “I sure hope we don’t discover the moon’s subsurface is rich with fluorocarbons…the hard way.” Syd Blakovich twittered, “I’m pretty sure NASA is totally undoing all the blood sacrifices the Aztecs did to delay the end of the world w this moon/rocket business…I’m just worried I’m going to have to start going blood sacrifices, mainly because I already have too much on my plate.” Jessie Seitz twittered, “Good to that during this recession our tax money will FINALLY find out if “ice is hidden in the perpetually dark lunar craters” of the moon.” Halcyon tweeted, “I think it’s about time we knocked the moon down a few notches. That bastard has been mad-dogging us for YEARS!”

Seriously, for fuck’s sake, do we really need to knock the moon off kilter? Has earth not had enough tsunamis? And isn’t all that expensive? Okay, this is the part where I’m just going to degenerate into using very very very bad language, so I’m just going to eat a delicious organic Braeburn apple and watch cartoon cows I TiVoed from Nickelodeon now. Or maybe the second half of The Company on On Demand. Spies on secret missions could be diverting . . .

I went to a fashion show soiree last night. My friend writer/gadfly Clint Catalyst organized the event for designer Jared Gold. Clint and I are both eclectic individuals and we have kind of a lot of random points of intersection. And we’ve both been doing what we do for a while.

So the most unsettling part of the shindig was trying to place who people were. This is difficult when a person could be someone I photographed nine years ago and haven’t seen in between. Or the person could be someone who did my hair once. Or the person could be someone I’ve only seen in media. There is always a risk when greeting someone on dim non-specific facial-recognition alone because they could turn out to be someone you’ve only watched on television or MySpace or someone you would shoot (not with a camera) if you had a license to kill. But a significant portion of folks there are people I know and like but may not have seen recently. So it was like a real life wetware version of one of those aging programs they use to find missing children.

One person at the event I saw and could not place was artist/designer Elizabeth McGrath. I attended her Broken Dolls fashion show in like 2002 or 2003 and featured it in our SWAG project. But I’d seen her in sort of business mode and not in-person in the intervening years (I think.) Clint Catalyst re-introed us and, when I said her hair was different now, she laughed and pointed out that she was wearing five or six hairpieces stacked up on top of one another. Normally, I don’t like wigs, but what Liz McGrath was wearing was much more complicated and high-end than a plain wig and she looked fabulous and she probably designed it herself like the spiffy In the Year of the Pig Fish piece pictured above.

At any rate, we’ll have video coverage of the actual fashion show posted some time soon. Forrest Black and I had front row seats (three sets of them actually as they kept redoing the seating chart), so you’ll get to see it all. We ended up next to World of Wonder’s Thairin Smothers, cool Party Monster author (and snappy dresser, even if he had to go with his second choice outfit) James St. James, and Danny Franzese who has curated at the Royal/T gallery which I’ve been meaning to check out, so our final seats ended up being more entertaining than our starting ones, even if Thairin and I had to be very cozy. I say you’ll get to see it all, but I admit that we’ll have to cut a lot of boobage. I never get why people make a big thing over something being about fashion and then have totally not street-legal outfits that a lot of venues can’t even run pictures of. Maybe it is just because I will absolutely wear outlandish couture that I think runway looks are supposed to be wearable.

My questions for the day are twofold. First, would you be comfortable strutting down a catwalk (outside of a strip club) topless? Second, how do you handle it when you see someone you recognize but can’t immediately identify?

So I registered the domain for my name a while back, when the internet still had a bit of that new web smell. I’d been doing work more and more in the digital space for a few years then and I would end up having to pay off a cybersquatter for the BlueBlood.com domain, so it seemed sensible to register everything near and dear to me. Then nine more years went by. Some of my favorite sites have grown out of Forrest Black registering domains while drinking beer and then me feeling that, once it was registered, the domain had to have a site on it. For a long time, I just had a link to a hosted journal on AmeliaG.com, but now seemed like the time to actually put a proper site on there. Today it officially goes live.

The site has the Amelia G bio with just the broad strokes. There is a more detailed sidebar with just 2009 news about press appearances and where my writing and photography has appeared this year. I considered including a page with a gigantic lists of places I’ve been published, but, after doing thousands of pages of editorial, not to mention radio and television stuff, it just seemed like it would be a bit of a laundry list. Plus, oddly enough, when I was doing research for the site, I discovered that some of my work had been reprinted without me even knowing it. I’ve moved less as an adult than I did as a kid, but sometimes it is still possible to lose track of compatriots with moves and all on everyone’s part.

I hope people enjoy the Photography Portfolio section of Forrest Black’s and my work. People always ask to see my online portfolio and I always was reluctant to put one together before. When I say “reluctant”, I mean that the notion of editing together only forty of my favorite images, out of everything we’ve ever shot, made me effing hyperventilate. I forced my brain through its discomfort and editing a selection of images from over such a long time period turned out to be really fun, once I got into kind of the right headspace, because I got to look at all sorts of contact sheets with positive associations and beautiful unseen images. Because of the ephemeral nature of human life, there is always something intrinsically bittersweet about any good photograph, I think, but it still felt mostly good to go through everything.

Given the fiscal realities of shooting on film, there are all sorts of awesome images Forrest Black and I shot which nobody has ever seen because it cost so much to make prints, so we tended to just print whatever a magazine wanted to publish for a lot of shoots. So the photo portfolio I edited together on AmeliaG.com has quite a few exclusive images the world has never seen, along with some favorites you will probably recognize.

It was also really fun putting together the section with the Amelia G Personal Pics because I got to dig through hard drives of tons of random uncategorized galleries of digital nightlife snapshots and recall all sorts of enjoyable adventures. My mom looked at the pics and said it looked like I must go out every night. Really I’m a workaholic, so I just like to only venture out for really cool stuff and I try to make a night out count. I hope you all also enjoy my goofy snapshots of going to parties, conventions, and gallery shows, clubbing, travel, and just hanging out with pals.

The background photo is a promo shot Forrest Black was kind enough to do for me last week. I really like how it turned out. If you are interested in hairstyle matters, my haircut is by Thierry, blowout is by Youne Lee, and color is old skool punk rock style where my bathroom is purple now too.

Putting the Amelia G site together made me nervous as anything, but I’m really happy it is complete and I think it turned out good. I hope you all like it too.

So, Forrest Black and I just went for coffee. Well, it was Starbucks, so he went for coffee and I went for ice water and conversation. I was just reading a thing about how Warren Buffet built his business and wanted to talk about some of the interesting ways he approached things. So we are talking about how insurance companies invest with your premiums and that is where most of their profits come from, and how Warren Buffet’s primary holding company Berkshire Hathaway actually failed at its primary business and no longer actually produces anything to do with what the original brand was about, and various other factoids which are intriguing, if you find business structures interesting.

At a certain point, I noticed some security guards hovering kind of close to me out of the corner of my eye and wondered if Starbucks had any special rules against people with purple and green hair discussing high finance. I couldn’t think of anything particularly awful I was doing, so I went back to my conversation, but there was still this sense of bad energy. The security guards went away, but people started shouting. As some of the people shouting were Starbucks employees, I assume security fled so they would not be witnesses to the people who worked at the shopping center braining someone with a coffee pot, if that was about to ensue. These security guys know where their paychecks come from and it is not making coffee-drinkers happy.

So apparently there was a customer there who wanted foam on his coffee or crema on his espresso or something like that. The chick who took the order didn’t really understand his question, so she answered kind of noncommittally on whether or not he could get what he wanted. When he got his order, it was not what he wanted. The barista said their machine could not do that. (This sort of thing is why I get my coffee at Intelligentsia and not Starbucks.) Instead of just apologizing to the guy and giving him his money back with a coupon, as Starbucks used to do when they were a better stock to own, the chick who took the order started screaming at the guy that he should have listened to her when he placed his order. So this dude who was behind the counter but seemed too young and clueless to be a manager came over to try to help, but, by this time, the customer was yelling about his “shitty” service and making a huge scene, while the line got really backed up with people waiting to order. The Starbucks dude, who was hopefully not a manager, took a stab at trying to calm things down, but he had this kinda rude grin on his face the whole time and seemed like he was laughing at the customer. He may have just been nervous, but it really did not help. The Starbucks at Western and Hollywood used to have a really awesome cool manager who we liked enough to give free gifts when we ran into him at a convention Blue Blood was exhibiting at, but Starbucks moved him to Vermont and Hollywood. I don’t even know if the Western and Hollywood Starbucks has a manager any more.

I know Forrest Black was pretty close to handing the customer five bucks himself and just asking the yelling guy to please leave. Instead, once the customer told the cashier, “you can kiss my ass” and she shrieked back, “you can kiss your own ass”, we decided to just leave that classy establishment. This is one of those moments where someone doesn’t realize how much accuracy is in what they were saying. When the Starbucks customer told the cashier to kiss his ass, on some level, what he really wanted was for her to treat him like a customer, rather than belittling him. I would have been opposed to another customer paying the angry customer to leave because I feel like that would just be paying off a terrorist and reinforcing that guy’s behavior where his yelling and expression of rage got in the way of everyone else’s coffee drinking ambiance and even coffee ordering. I thought the Starbucks employees could have handled things much more smoothly to stop the unpleasantness, but I also don’t think people should be rewarding for publicly crying like spoiled children in the cereal aisle and ruining other people’s experience.

People pay five bucks for a coffee because they want to relax. The thing I actually found kind of surprising was that the people behind the counter really did not seem to take any pride in their work or care if they did it well. I mean, Forrest Black didn’t have any problem with his order and I had not problem with mine, so it is not like they messed everything up or anything, but the folks who used to work there always seemed to want to excel.

Now I’ve worked at some pretty terrible jobs. Heck, there are days I come to work and just wish I still worked retail. Even when I have to work on something I do not enjoy, I do try to do it well though. I take pride in a job well done and try to do my best. Sometimes my best is nowhere near good enough, but I strive for excellence and take pride in putting in a good effort. Do you take pride in doing what you do well or at least putting forth a good effort to achieve the tasks at hand?

This video features my interview with Coilhouse editor Nadya Lev about the companion magazine for her Coilhouse web site. The video is directed by Forrest Black. Blue Blood theme music is by Tim Skold. The launch party portion of the video features yours truly, Nadya Lev, Anachronaut, Nixon Sixx, Allan Amato, Forrest Black, Billy Vahan, Eirik Aswang, Coilhouse editor Zoetica Ebb, Coilhouse editor Meredith Yayanos, Karen Schultz, Perish, Courtney, Elizabeth Prokopiak, Scar 13, Mildred Von, Roxy Contin, Roxy Contin’s cute doggie, and many more!

In this original Blue Blood interview, Forrest Black and Rachel Kramer Bussel have just eaten a whole lot of delicious cupcakes. Forrest Black interviews the writer/editor about her Cupcakes Take the Cake blog. They also discuss her naughty themed anthologies which include Spanked: Red-Cheeked Erotica. Writer/editor Clint Catalyst has a cameo appearance. And I helped eat the cupcakes.

As you all have no doubt noticed, we’ve been working on some video stuff on BlueBlood.net here. It is still in beta, but we are making it live for your viewing pleasure. Feel free to point out anything which is not working perfectly yet, because we know Blue Blood TV is in beta.

We’ve been really enjoying putting together our first segments and I’m really excited to share them with you all. For the most part, Forrest Black has been directing and I’ve been producing. We’ve mostly been taking turns shooting, kinda the same as we do for still photography. We’ve gotten some behind-the-camera assists from the always enjoyable Michelle Aston as well. We are fortunate enough to have the incredibly talented Tim Skold on board for the project to do the Blue Blood theme music. As this is Blue Blood, you probably all know who Tim Skold is, but I’ll give you a quick overview, just in case. I first came across his work when he was in a band called Shotgun Messiah, which I thought was a great name for a band. Other bands he has been in include Kingpin, KMFDM, Marilyn Manson, and Skold. His eponymously titled Skold album is one of my favorite CDs of all time, one of those rare records I can play all the way through, enjoying every single song over and over again. Anyway, I’m really thrilled about doing this video series thang, and the way it is all coming together, and feeling very creatively inspired.

Our video section is just starting out, so, when it becomes a fabulous gigantic internet phenomenon, you can say you were in-the-know when. We’ll be both highlighting videos we think are interesting and bringing you original programming. I just posted our Deathrace Jason Statham interview and Deathrace director Paul W. S. Anderson interview. Coming up this weekend, I interview musician Andy LaPlegua of Combichrist. Forrest Black interviews writer/editor Rachel Kramer Bussel about her Cupcakes Take the Cake blog (and sex.) Forrest Black and I (and a lot of our unsavory pals) attend the Coilhouse magazine launch party and I interview editor Nadya Lev. And there is tons more to come. Feel free to message me or Forrest Black directly or in public (or sidle up to one of us in a nightclub and whisper) about what you’d most like to see us do because we are just getting started.

I know, I know, some of you were probably assuming I was about to announce the launch of a giant adult video section, probably in the members area over on sister site BlueBlood.com. Over the years, just about every major mainstream adult video company, both in Porn Valley and beyond, has pitched yours truly and Forrest Black to do the pr0nz vidz for them. I’m not saying that nobody could ever make me an attractive offer on that front, if we really were on the same page with a company which wanted to make something great. But it has been my experience that these huge multimillion dollar companies will come at us saying how much they want something gothic or punk or alt or tattooed, and then turn around and say that they figure the budget can be small because they can underpay talent with tattoos or black lipstick.

One of my personal rules is that I will work for free or cheap for someone who does not have an office, if I like them and I believe in their project. If someone has a big ol’ office, I expect a pro rate and I expect the same for those I work with. If someone owns one or more buildings, I expect them not to start being cheap when it comes to my subculture and my friends and my collaborators.

But, honestly, it really boils down to art. The thing about artists is that they do not always do what is the commercially perfect thing to do. Artists do what they feel like doing. What I really felt like doing was discussing the meaning of alternative culture with Nadya Lev and what appalling horror movies are fun to sample with Andy LaPlegua.

I hope you guys like what we’ve been making because I enjoyed the creative process and I’d like to make you more videos soon.

Although I have lived in California now for longer than I have lived anywhere else, I am not originally from here. Earthquakes still seem like magic to me. Like an amusement park ride or some other thing where what you feel is interesting but without consequences. When some of the East Coast portions of my family first started going West, my maternal grandmother was certain every New Yorker who defected to California was going to fall into a crevasse and die. Eight feet of snow, she felt safe in. But earthquakes seemed horrific beyond all measure.

Native Californian Forrest Black tells me that a 6.0 earthquake is when buildings start falling down. The earthquake I just experienced was, at most recent estimate, a 5.8 in Chino Hills. That places the epicenter at around twenty some odd miles from where I am in Hollywood. This quake was so strong that, according to my twitter friends and my pals on the internet professional forums, the shaking was felt as far away as Las Vegas.

My mother was stationed in Israel during the Lebanon War. Then too, I had Stateside friends and family who thought it must be terrifying and dangerous to live in a warring part of the world. At the time, my only awareness that anything unusual was going on was that I had to set bric-a-brac away from the edge of countertops or it could be knocked off by the sonic booms of war planes flying overhead. I never saw an injured person or an explosion.

In much the same way, I have never seen the earth in California open up and start swallowing humans or their homes. I have never seen anything more than a crack in plaster, items fallen off a shelf, or a rolling mini tidal wave in a swimming pool. And it is not like earthquakes happen weekly in Los Angeles. So I don’t usually even think about avoiding placing things near the edge of counters.

This earthquake was a bit of a reminder that there really are serious fault lines on the West Coast. There are now piles of documents all mixed up together all over my office. Stacks of flyers are hopelessly jumbled. Photographic backdrops came halfway down. Anything lightweight like a CD or DVD went flying off the shelves. Pictures came off the walls. This included an original Cherry Poptart illustration by Larry Welz where he drew Cherry in a leather jacket specifically as a gift for Blue Blood. I am very relieved that the glass on the frame did not break on that.

And the iced latte on my desk fell off and soaked my chair. I’ll trade coffee butt for safe original artwork any day though. Nice to have a considerate earthquake. The quivering ground still seems fictional to me and, in the midst of a quake, I can never remember if you are supposed to get in the door frame or avoid the door frame.

I don’t usually share shoot stories from BlueBlood.com on the front page of BlueBlood.net, but this one is just too good not to share. You’ll have to be a member of the free forums to see sample shots though and only paid up members of BlueBlood.com get to see the whole set in all its naughty glory.

It was one of those beautiful wet Portland days when Voltaire, Forrest Black, and I drove all around town looking for a good spot to shoot. Voltaire guided us to this railroad crossing underpass, but it turned out to be under construction. Never ones to be daunted by such a minor inconvenience as heavy machinery and tons of people around, Voltaire and I made a beeline for the bulldozers while Forrest stayed in the rental car as lookout.

Voltaire had just handed me her underwear and lifted her neon green skirt, when a construction worker waved me over. I was bummed because we were not going to have good light to shoot by the time we found a new location. But I came when he beckoned because I’m a nice girl like that. I think he was the construction foreman and he told me it was cool if we wanted to shoot pictures to our hearts’ content, but please do not actually climb up in the seats on the trucks because the city’s insurance won’t cover that. The guys working construction didn’t even roll up on us to ogle. The foreman and everyone was so nice that I actually asked Voltaire not to get in the seats.

I think that, even with our good behavior, she looks most excellent in the big gravel shovel and in the danger zone and I’m really pleased with how these shots came out. I hope you all enjoy them too. It was quite an adventure and, yes, I did just give yours truly and Voltaire good girl points for shooting erotic nudes in public but only near the seats of trucks and not actually in them. Full series available on BlueBlood.com. This is Voltaire’s 17th appearance on BlueBlood.com and it definitely won’t be her last!

Blue Blood’s SpookyCash webmaster affiliate program sent yours truly and Forrest Black to the XBiz Hollywood show. As the XBiz show was this past weekend, I was reminded that I had some entertaining snapshots to post of the fun we had. (Footnote: Webmaster affiliate programs are what people with sites reaching thousands of visitors use to, ya know, make money.)

The first night of the webmaster show, we went out to dinner with my friends Lange and Warren. I tried to convince them to go to a restaurant called Koji’s. Koji’s serves sushi and shabu and features pretty good food in a kind of weird mall setting. Some of the same folks who Disneyfied Times Square built a structure called Hollywood and Highland adjacent to the venerable Mann’s Chinese Theater and across from the Disney one and the historic Roosevelt Hotel. Hollywood and Highland features a variety of paid street performers dressed as costume characters and it is a mall, but Koji’s is tasty. Nonetheless, when Lange and Warren realized I was directing us through a mall, they nixed Japanese food and peer pressured me into going back across the street to Hooters.

I’ve never been to Hooters before, but there had been an open bar by the Roosevelt Hotel pool earlier, so I was feeling tipsy agreeable. At the time, we all thought our waitress was super hot. Warren offered to put her in Penthouse and she giggled and he was like, “no, seriously, I’ll put you in Penthouse.” It seemed like she thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. Warren really does shoot for Penthouse. Actually, come to think of it, Forrest Black and I have both shot for Penthouse as well, but Warren has the uber hook-up there to the point where a party at his house isn’t over until the pool is chock-full of Penthouse Pets. Some place I have the snapshots to prove that too. But not at Hooters on this particular night. Now that I look at the Hooters snapshots, the waitress looks only okay. Maybe she smelled really great. Maybe Lange just had her keep the beer flowing to the point where I also thought Hooters food was surprisingly delicious. (More on this later.)

We went to a party after this at The Ritual Supper Club. I think the primary occasion for the party was the CyberSocket gay web awards, but Stella Artois says I may or may not be particularly specifically accurate on this point. The Ritual Supper Club has been known variously as Ritual, White Lotus, the local bus station, etc. and is a Hollywood hotspot where A-listers like Mark Wahlberg can go to bang porn stars cast for the next season of Entourage on HBO. Luminaries in attendance included Chi Chi LaRue, Anders Manga, Joanna Angel, Mario from Stockroom, Halcyon Pink, Ashley Steel, and of course Forrest Black and Amelia G.

XBiz then threw a really cool seminar with talented filmmakers Joone and Andrew Blake. I tend to be really turned off by most of what the mainstream of Porn Valley churns out, but Joone and Andrew Blake are seriously good at what they do and bring a real artistry to their work. Later there was a really painful speech from one of the guys responsible for the Penthouse acquisition. He was going on about his mainstream credentials and, although he has an impressive background in some respects, I just think of maintream as a pejorative. And I find it really tiresome when people make a huge distinction between what they perceive as their adult work and their “mainstream” work. I always wonder if they just think they can phone it in as soon as exposed breasts are involved. Monetizing media is monetizing media. The reason so few adult videos produced can touch Joone or Andrew Blake is that some people think they do not have to bring their A game if nudity is involved. Heck, some people even believe they should not. I’m personally a fan of doing a good job of whatever one does.

I certainly know some club kids who are fucking awesome at being fabulous club kids. Forrest Black and I ran into journalist Gram Ponante as we snuck out of the Penthouse keynote. We had a conversation about some of the more wannabe upscale webmaster events. I have started skipping this variety of velvet rope-oriented shindig, even though I adore some of my friends who attend and throw such parties. I’m fine with genuinely upscale and I’m fine with a real velvet rope whether it is glam rock disco or casino VIP, but I only enjoy such things if they are the real deal. I tell Gram that I like my club kids to be professionals and that watching internet professionals mack at being club kids is not my idea of a good time. This lead to me being horrifically misquoted, but, hey, at least I made the front page his site and it was kinda funny and we were all operating on not a lot of sleep.

For an example of an event I was definitely down for, Vic DiCara from the seminal Hindu-infused hardcore punk band 108 took a whole bunch of us out to dinner afterward and we had a really great evening. Ross Horowitz of Shoot Out the Lights fame drove me, Forrest Black, and his beautiful companion over to Koji’s. Now you all might be recalling that I mentioned walking to Koji’s at the beginning of the weekend. Yes, it was walking distance and, no, we were not that partied out, but Ross just bought a black Rolls Royce, so it was imperative that we drive to Hollywood and Highland. After making me go to Hooters, Lange of course was the first person I saw when we got to Koji’s and I gave him grief about it, but forgave him when he introduced me to photographer Chris Cuffaro whose band photography I had published in Blue Blood magazine in print years ago, but who I had never met in the flesh before. Unsurprisingly, given the proclivities of the guest list, we all talked about music most of the night. At one point, Vegas Ken from The Best Porn told an anecdote about working in an emergency room and maybe not being startled by the horror in the same way that probably no one at the table was startled by naked people any more. But mostly we chatted about music and music biz.

I forget whose party we went to after that, but the next afternoon found us at Hooters again. I had not been to eat at Hooters twice in my entire life. We had lunch with a plethora of cool folks on the various days of the XBiz webmaster conference, but Hooters made the buffet brunches at the Roosevelt Hotel seem yummilicious. And they were not particularly gourmet buffets. Hooters food is absolutely revolting if one has not consumed the proper number of refreshing adult beverages beforehand. The weird MSG-style flavor enhancers at Hooters made my tongue swell and the flavor of everything I tasted there seemed sickening. Forrest Black consoled his annoyed tummy after Hooters with the purchase of a stuffed Kuromi plush. In the unlikely event that you are somehow unaware of this, Kuromi is Hello Kitty’s new punk rock gal pal with the fetish hat.

In conclusion, after enough beer, Hooters chicken wings and shrimp are tasty and Hooters waitresses are delicious, but you really need serious beer goggles to eat that food. Well-prepared Japanese food, Rolls Royces, and Hello Kitty dolls may be enjoyed while entirely sober. I think this may illustrate some of the quintessential truths of the universe.