Bitchy Words of Wisdom

Okay so I am done pimping my t-shirts. HA – not even close. My newsfeed is going to make you want to kill yourself with the shameless self-promotion and I don’t give two fucks. Im werkin for a birkin bitches. (Ehem you can purchase shirts here.)

Now that that ‘s all out of the way, I have been involved in 3 incidents today all before the brisk hour of 9am that gives me very unsettled foreshadowing into how the rest of my weekend looks. First I compared my love with my dog Leo to a real “Rita and Tom” type of love to my neighbor. I won’t even go into how weird that is. Then I went totally ape shit on a pedestrian who was literally moving at a glacial pace across the crosswalk and yelled “ARE YOU PHYSICALLY IMPAIRED, FUCKING WALK. SOME OF US HAVE JOBS TO GET TO.” Not nice. I will repent for this next Yom Kippur. Then, this happened…

Haute Mess Lesson – Be cautious when making rape jokes. Anyone who says this is a non-informative blog clearly is not a faithful reader. Listen, I get it rape jokes are “never funny”. That is only true if you are actually a rapist or Oprah. Too much? Sorry. Whilst in my office elevator I always try to make small talk with other office building patrons because let’s face it – nothing is more awkward then an elevator ride. I have had multiple offenses during my elevator rides. Last week my not so trusty iPhone got rambled in my purse and started playing “Dancing Queen” sung by Meryl Streep circa 2009’s Mamma Mia adaption (which was fabulous). Being in an elevator with a blasian (a blonde Asian – basically a modern day unicorn)and a man in a polyester suit who probably thinks Mamma Mia is a chain Italian food restaurant in Riverside is not ideal to begin with. My purse is like a black hole so for the longest 26 seconds of my life “Dancing Queen” played at full volume while Blasian and 56 year old accountant pretended not to notice and stared aimlessly at the floor buttons waiting to get the fuck out of the elevator carriage. “You gotta love ABBA right?” Silence. Needless to say, my elevator reputation is not fabulous. Back to rape (sorry I can get SO side tracked). This morning I picked up my usual Friday Pop tart (frosted strawberry – obvi) and headed into the silent elevator. It’s so fucking weird NOBODY talks, not even a friendly hi hello, weather commentary, NOTHING. Happy to break the silence my phone rang. My best friend called me and told me she was going for a jog (ew) and needed to be on the phone with someone because she saw a big white van parked on her street with no windows and a creepy man inside.

To paint a picture, the elevator was filled with about 4 young and old professionals in suits and then there is me in rhinestoned flats, leather pants and a shirt that says HAUTE SHIT (plug) all listening to the following one sided conversation.

 “OMG – ew. That’s a total rape van. Does it have windows with curtains or no windows at all?”

“Walk with a purpose. Pretend you’re on the phone with your martial arts instructor. Actually maybe don’t. That may turn him on. I heard rapists get off on the fight. Those fuckers love the struggle”

“Well if he does lure you into his rape cave, just act like you are super into him and maybe he will let you go?”

“ Okay well call me if you end up getting raped, you could definitely get on a talk show if you did and you could wear one of my Haute Mess shirts cause that would be great publicity for me. I could lie and say we would donate 50% of the sales to some women’s rape counseling charity but really we could just use the money and go to Bali or something. Love you!”


 Clearly I need to start being more self-aware – especially in public. If you could see the look on these people’s faces you would understand how badly I wanted to shank myself. Oops. The eye rolls, disgusted throat clearing and just full on death glares were in full force and all I could do was wait patiently until I reached the 9th floor trying to regain some form of social decency in the last 5 seconds of my trip. I am usually painfully unaware of how inappropriate I can be but this may have pushed things too far. As I exited the elevator I gave a nervous “Bye!” to the remaining 2 people, which is even more awkward because the only words/ pleasantries exchanged during the entire ride were my thought provoking rape philosophies.



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