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Don't Call Me Baby

I have a tiara in here...don't make me use it.

External Services:
  • jourdannex@livejournal.com
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  • The name alone inspires fear in me
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  • we all need random strangers calling us?

"Arriving with the Marquis tomorrow morning. Stop. Please arrange ovation."

" So what do you do in life?

Mari: You know. Live. Wear evening dresses and dance around. Sometimes I lie on pianos." - violetsnvalium

Words I live by proudly. Thanks Mari.

I wanna be evil
I wanna spit tacks
I wanna be evil
and cheat at jacks

I wanna be wicked
I wanna tell lies
I wanna be mean
and throw mud pies

I wanna be evil, little evil me.


" I'm 38, stop calling me Lolita" - she said sitting cross-legged and pouty with a box of jujyfruits and a bag of bubblegum as he painted her toenails. Oh yea, I'm a grownup.

The thing is, yes I keep a livejournal but most of the people on the internet...what's scary is, it's like real life...the only thing that's keeping them from me is a sliver of a velvet rope, and that's not very comforting.

I have a tiara...and I'm not afraid to use it.

Yes, I wear haute couture and keep pet chickens, you wanna make something of it?

I was named after a character in The Valley of the Dolls. This would explain a lot.

Contributor/Author in the book Teddy Bear Cannibal Massacre There are no cannibals or massacres that I read about but there are a few bitchy rants from me and some good stories from other authors. Yes, Soccer Moms will hate me but that was secretly my wish all along.


I am also Editor of a website called SoThere.com where we publish unsent letters people submit. It has been there since '98 and will remain there as long as people continue to need such a place.


Maybe I am nice, maybe it's penance. If I were religious I would believe that, but I was raised really religious, like "Amish but I had electricity" religious, don't even go there. I was forced to wear really ugly clothes and carry an imitation leather book bag. This would explain my love for haute couture now. And shoes. Bring on the shoes. Some people dream of Jeannie, I dream of shoes and clothes.

And clowns wielding chainsaws but that's another story.


I aspire to be one of those very old women who wear turbans and have long jeweled cigarette holders. Miss Havisham meets Gloria Swanson. I intend on scaring children off my lawn and owning a monkey who wears a diamond collar. The bad thing is, you should take this completely seriously. The good thing is, I am half way there.


If I had a trading card, it would say:

Sing Out Louise!

You are far too bitchy for your own good and you talk too much about clothes and shoes when you should be worrying about world wide political causes. But you don’t care, you just want to know if there is a fundraiser what will you wear to it?

It could be a cover, word has it, you do have a heart.

You write boring poetry and think you are intellectual because you can spell Cosmopolitan even when you have had too many.

Secretly, you use spell checks like there is no tomorrow and worry about what people will think when they find out you rarely wear underwear.

You eat a lot but think yoga will fix your hips.

It ain’t gonna happen.

You drink water like it’s Stoli and Stoli like it’s water.

Thank god there is plastic surgery, 'cause you are going to need it. (Check on Botox, go on, use it, it's a really good thing, also Restylane lovelies...it's a close second)

You finally stopped sleeping with 19 year olds but secretly you think they all still look at you. You are wrong. They don’t. But their fathers do now.

You dream of owning a Rugby team and making them carry your luggage. Get real, you still have to clean your own cats litter box like everyone else.

You still wear heels to feed chickens. Something is really wrong with you.


Warning: Before 10am, sleeping pills are still in effect.


And in my world, Oliver Reed watches me undress from heaven. Every. Single. Night.


I also don't feel like myself without fake hair.


Livejournal can never capture all the facets of one person. We all have too much within. So perhaps this is just a piece of me that I am comfortable sharing. The rest....well that's private.

Also, I dreamt my family called me and said "I went to Livejournal.com and I am never speaking to you again" so ....most of my entries are locked. I don't think they really want to know what I am thinking anyway. And also...thank you LJ, you did what 13 therapists, shrinks and psychoanalysts never could...get met to never shut up.

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