I'm fucking exhausted, honestly.
Had a sleepless night(thanks to awesome events that will not be detailed here just yet)and teetered straight to the office in the morning, looking like a hangover on two legs.
I survived yet another grueling day at Porn Central HQ, performing some last minute checks and revisions on our new and exciting celebrity feature. You know it's a hard day at work when you pass through the halls and your eyes randomly happen upon a computer screen featuring a spread shot of a tight booty and you sigh to yourself, "Oh, Jenna Haze..." without even having to come within five feet of that image. Jesus fucking Christ, is this my life?
After wrapping things up at the office and discretely escaping through the revolving doors of the Ivory Tower at precisely seven o'clock, I hurried back to my flat, changed, and got my ass to the marina, where I was scheduled to interview Megadeth's Dave Mustaine before their concert at the Hangar.
To keep it short and to the point, Dave was kind of a prick about the whole thing. After blowing his fuse at reporters at a local press conference held at the previous night, and verbally whooping the ass of trance-happy Elinor from 106 FM, I should have anticipated a cunt maneuver.
I showed up at eight and waited with the publicist, surviving delay after delay. The cameraman was getting antsy, as they usually do, when tech-geeks are sent to accompany me to metal shows. Meanwhile, since his majesty Dave was lagging ass on the way from his hotel room, I took the cameraman out for a burger at Agadir and started pumping myself with liquor. By the way things were going, it didn't seem like doing the interview drunk beyond imagination was such a bad idea.
At nine, the publicist calls my cell and informs me that the interview is being pushed back until after the show. There is usually no clearer sign that we're headed for a cancellation, and I can already feel myself growing fucking pissed off. The whole deal was that we were granted an exclusive interview weeks earlier, and now Mr. Mustaine was pissing on the parade. I could have utilized that time to knock back a few bowls at my flat, after all, so fuck you, Dave.
Nearly an hour later, Megadeth finally do us all a gigantic fucking favor and take the stage. It's a good thing Dave's stage antics are better than his manners, or overall lack thereof. They gave a kickass show that completely justified whatever cunty behavior was displayed earlier. So big deal, no fucking interview. All the more reason to sign on waiver on sobriety for the evening. In any case, you who speak the lingo of the Heebs can read my review here:
Megadeth, Hooray!
Happy 4th of July to all!
Shmeel, if you're reading this - knock back a few for me if you ain't passed out at a Krispy Kreme's somewhere.
Had a sleepless night(thanks to awesome events that will not be detailed here just yet)and teetered straight to the office in the morning, looking like a hangover on two legs.
I survived yet another grueling day at Porn Central HQ, performing some last minute checks and revisions on our new and exciting celebrity feature. You know it's a hard day at work when you pass through the halls and your eyes randomly happen upon a computer screen featuring a spread shot of a tight booty and you sigh to yourself, "Oh, Jenna Haze..." without even having to come within five feet of that image. Jesus fucking Christ, is this my life?
After wrapping things up at the office and discretely escaping through the revolving doors of the Ivory Tower at precisely seven o'clock, I hurried back to my flat, changed, and got my ass to the marina, where I was scheduled to interview Megadeth's Dave Mustaine before their concert at the Hangar.
To keep it short and to the point, Dave was kind of a prick about the whole thing. After blowing his fuse at reporters at a local press conference held at the previous night, and verbally whooping the ass of trance-happy Elinor from 106 FM, I should have anticipated a cunt maneuver.
I showed up at eight and waited with the publicist, surviving delay after delay. The cameraman was getting antsy, as they usually do, when tech-geeks are sent to accompany me to metal shows. Meanwhile, since his majesty Dave was lagging ass on the way from his hotel room, I took the cameraman out for a burger at Agadir and started pumping myself with liquor. By the way things were going, it didn't seem like doing the interview drunk beyond imagination was such a bad idea.
At nine, the publicist calls my cell and informs me that the interview is being pushed back until after the show. There is usually no clearer sign that we're headed for a cancellation, and I can already feel myself growing fucking pissed off. The whole deal was that we were granted an exclusive interview weeks earlier, and now Mr. Mustaine was pissing on the parade. I could have utilized that time to knock back a few bowls at my flat, after all, so fuck you, Dave.
Nearly an hour later, Megadeth finally do us all a gigantic fucking favor and take the stage. It's a good thing Dave's stage antics are better than his manners, or overall lack thereof. They gave a kickass show that completely justified whatever cunty behavior was displayed earlier. So big deal, no fucking interview. All the more reason to sign on waiver on sobriety for the evening. In any case, you who speak the lingo of the Heebs can read my review here:
Megadeth, Hooray!
Happy 4th of July to all!
Shmeel, if you're reading this - knock back a few for me if you ain't passed out at a Krispy Kreme's somewhere.
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