Really, I'm not.

I mean.. Who? Me? Just because I wear kinky boots and smoke and cuss doesn't mean I'm bad.

I'm just drawn that way.. Like Jessica Rabbit or something.

And anyone who has told you otherwise is just buying into stereotypes and shit like that.

No skeletons in the closet here.... Because I buried them all! Err.. I mean.. I never had any....

Well, okay. Sure. I've had some. We all have. Some I chuckle over. And some I wish I never had. Unfortunately, I don't have an eraser I can take to the ones I wish I could wipe out...

But, I'll share one of the funny ones..

There was the time that I.. I... I... The time I decided to break in a pair of new shoes, and the damned cops thought I was a prostitute.

No joke.

I had bought a new pair of pumps, and decided to go for a little walk in them. At 2 am. Why? Why not? Because it was cool. And dark. And nice outside...

And the police, the wonderful police, saw them and assumed "Hooker!" So they saw me, profiled me, confronted me and promptly wasted 45 minutes of my life questioning me - 45 minutes I can never get back...

Yeah, like I want to sell myself... Like I'd do so in the middle of nowhere...

Just goes to show that stereotypes don't pay, and when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.

This is California, huh? Tolerant California? Hah!

Listening to: "California Uber Alles" by Dead Kennedys, "Wild Ride" by Sherrie Austin

Labels: Blogathon 2007, Boot Worship, Mi Vida Loca, Religious Right Ain't Right, Smoking In The Girls' Room