boycrazy on the go:

sometimes when you’re on your way to starbucks on beverly and labrea, you run into people you used to know. a dude sticks his head out of his car and says “hey, alexi! it’s me! how are you?!” and you chat for a sec, until you realize you’re blocking traffic. then he pulls over, but is still illegally parked. and if you have a website, like i do, you ask him some questions! that way it isn’t a complete waste of time and you have material for a blog post! this happened to me a few days ago.
boycrazy on the go: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

this is a big deal:

CHARLES SMITH is coming! soon he will even be beamed into your tv, so you can LOOK at him, ENJOY him, FEEL his presence and stare into his eyes. all in the privacy of your own home.

if you don’t quite understand, that’s fine…you WILL!!!

a profile on this man/boy is coming VERY soon. xoxo

part 2-AZIZ SPEAKS:

aziz interview part 1: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

aziz part 2: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

aziz part 3: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

my trip to capetown south africa-by boycrazy/chloe sebastion oliver/alexi celine wasser

It was a super long flight from la to capetown. lax-heathrow, heathrow to capetown. 22 hours. this is a picture i took of myself during my layover at heathrow. i am pretending to be asleep, but i am clearly awake, because i am the one taking the photo. i call it: sleepyhead lexi. xo

my trip to capetown part 1: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

my trip to capetown part 2: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.

those were the days (part 3-the final chapter):

I went to hm, had lunch, and called a different dude. One that I’d had sex with in the past (I’ll call him the dude that taught me how to give blow jobs), who was more grown up and able to be a pal. Plus, he’s the one who vouched for the shithole, so he owed me. He was staying at a very successful painters apartment in the east village. I had never heard of her, but today she is by far my favorite painter ever- past and present. He was house-sitting. He said I could stay with him. Cool. But I didn’t wanna have sex with him at all, and I knew I’d feel obligated. He’s a dude, I’m a girl, and we’d already had sex. I shouldn’t have gone to New York. God, being a teenager who thinks she can handle everything can be very confusing. I was low. I was depressed. I thought what I looked like was the only thing that defined my self worth. Me in this mind frame made me no good to anyone.

He was friends with all the coolest kids. The elitist that you read about in all the cool mags. So I drank to avoid being ill at ease. I met the dudes’ cousin (a guy in well known band), his cousin’s girlfriend the photographer. And her best friend-a fashion designer girl with a successful line of clothes and her very own store. They told me that they only wore string bikinis to swim in. and made it very clear that they were best friends that comprised a dynamic due. It was not and COULD NOT be a trinity, with me included. I didn’t even have time to decide if I liked them, before they made it clear they were excluding me. But then again, my self-hatred was so strong that day-I could be shading this thing all-wrong. But I don’t think I am.

We sat around and watched network. The only one who wasn’t there was the woman who owned the apartment. I’m still confused at how the brokest cool kids get the craziest hook ups that allow them to float. We listened to Andrew wk and talked a bunch of random bullshit. And eventually everyone went home, leaving me and ‘the dude that taught me how to give blow jobs’ to ourselves.

I dreaded this, cuz I wasn’t feeling sexy or sexual. But he was slowly morphing into a self-proclaimed doctor. A doctor of sexy. Healing girls who didn’t feel good about themselves. He’s decided to take me on as his first patient. Ahh! He pulled my pants down, on the floor of the living room. My period was nearly over, but NEARLY means I’m still bleeding! I mumbled…”no, um, don’t…I, um, I’m having my female problem” (female problem? If I could have punched myself in the face to snap me out of my bullshit, I would have. But I was inside my skin. Too deep to see myself. And take ownership of myself. And stop apologizing for myself. Like everyone else was ok, or good, and I was lucky to be among them. It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it!)

He didn’t stop pulling my pants down. Huh? That’s weird, I thought. I said it louder now, and more matter of fact “but I have my period.” He looked at me, and I looked back at him. His head between my legs, he just smiled. AND THAT’S WHEN THE GNARLIEST SEXUAL EXPERIENCE HAPPENED TO ME IN MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE!!!!!!
He very coolly and calmly, pulled my tampon out of my vadge with his teethe, tossed it aside, proceeded to go down on me……….and I’m pretty sure I came.

those were the days (part 2):

I called the boy I had come to New York for. I barely new him. We had had one epic make out at sway on a Sunday night, before I picked up and left for Japan. He was in an off and on relationship. Mostly ‘on’, but he downplayed this. The night we first met-he was single. I’m not, and will never be, ‘the other woman’! it’s never been a goal of mine. Anywayzies. They weren’t together anymore, but he wasn’t invested emotionally in me, as much as I was with him. Looking back, I think I was like a foot taller than him. Was I oblivious? He was so cute! I guess I didn’t realize how much my head was tilted when talking to/looking at him. He was FUNNY! That’s what I remember. But the humor ceased when I flew back to see him! And it got REALLY UNFUNNY when I needed a place to stay.

The minute I arrived at his place, I GOT MY FUCKING PERIOD. I wasn’t as vocal as I am now, so instead of telling him I got my period (which I don’t know if I would do even NOW), I got weird and squirmy and awkward. At least NOW, I would have made up an excuse to run downstairs to a bodega, get tampons and baby wipes, buy a latte at a café, use their restroom, and run back up to him like everything was lovely. Maybe even bringing him a latte too, to explain why I took so long! But if I had been THAT savvy- I never would have booked such a shithole hotel in the first place. Instead, we made out in his bed. I prayed I wouldn’t bleed on his sheets. I DIDN’T, FYI. I was wearing the dumbest outfit. And some weird ‘sex and the city’ inspired jewelry. I’m so embarrassed. Not really, but I felt I had to say that.

We got lunch and I ran into an ex I used to get drunk with all the time. It ended with me having very unsexy blackout sex with him. Fantastic. Just the person I wanted to see. Whatevs. That’s how life can be. It was fine. we said our hellos, how are you’s- and I got back to the new boy.

I wanted to recapture the New York AND the night I spent with this guy BEFORE TOKYO HAPPENED. But I didn’t like my body anymore and I felt really needy and aimless. I didn’t feel loved and safe. And it wasn’t this dudes job to provide me with any of this. He was basically a stranger. the whole trip was putting way too much pressure on the both of us.

So what did we do to make it better? WE SMOKED POT! Bad move on my part! I’m already a lunatic, but when I have even a puff of the doobage, I get super bummed and ultra paranoid. Not sexy. Not cool. And a deal breaker if there ever was one. It got weird REAL FAST. Every look and move he made, I thought was about me. In a negative way! we passed out at his house….and I left in the morning, without saying goodbye. (to be continued)

those were the days:

Once upon a time, a much younger version of me went to New York. I was so sad. About what, I’m not sure. I was gaining weight, smoking cigarettes, binge drinking, bloated, unsure of my sense of style. I was lost.

I had been so focused and strong and happy only months before. What happened? I had moved from la to New York and from there, I was offered the chance to live in Tokyo for 4 months. In Tokyo, I worked as a model, I worked a lot. They liked pale skin, blue eyes and dark hair. I was getting boobs though and my agency was not happy about this. My feet were a bit too big for their liking too. What could I do? I was just a person.

I barely ate, had to be weighed every day in a g-string. Every part of me was measured. I understand. I’m not complaining. Just telling a story. 


I was a business transaction. I was on a contract. I had to make sure I made/fulfilled my contract-my contract was based on estimates the agency had made (before they flew me to Tokyo) of how much they thought I would work while I was there. A photo and video of me was shown to fashion designers and other various clients that might hire me. These clients would say whether or not they liked me and if they were likely hire me. I was miserable in Japan. 

At first it was exciting, but the measuring and weigh ins took their toll. But this was my decision. If I was going to call myself a model (a, b, or c grade) this is what I had to deal with. I’m tall. So I did lots of shows. I worked with cool designers like issey miyake, did commercials-sony,panasonic,etc, and worked with others whose names I might never remember.

While in Tokyo, I lost my NY sublet on Charles Street in the west village. That fucking bitch subletter pulled the rug out from under me. Is it ok if I call her a cunt for doing that? It is a real word. It exists to be used for the right occasions. It was the day before I was leaving Tokyo to go back home to New York and she called me to say she was changing the locks and giving it to her cousin. Thanks for the warning you dirty cuntrag life ruiner!

I figured it out. Flew back to la instead. Stayed with my mom for 2 weeks. Found an apt in Beachwood canyon. And started booking commercials. Always with the intention of moving back to NY. 


2 months later,I went back to New York to visit a boy I had a crush on. I made a reservation at some cheap hotel I’d heard about in the back pages of the village voice. I was an idiot. Or just super young. In reality, the hotel was a shit hole filled with the borderline homeless(have you ever read ‘down and out in Paris in London’?). a place that provided cheap rooms where a hooker could take a client. 

I rode up in the rinky-dink elevator. a jalopy of an elevator. A big brute of a man stared down at me. He was super scary and I think he was drooling while he stared at me (not to toot my own horn. I’m sure he would have drooled over any girl he was planning on killing with his bare hands). 

We arrived at my floor and I ran to my room. Get this- The peephole was filled with toilet paper. Someone had removed the glass. The door bashed into the bed the minute I opened it. The room was as big as an American apparel dressing room. But not nearly as modern and bright. There was a knock on the door. Which progressed into a threatening banging! “Let me in miss. You better let me in!” It was the guy from the elevator!

I pushed my bag AND a chair against the door. I thought about climbing out the window but it was sealed shut AND it was double glass or something super solid and unbreakable. I know this cuz I punched it with my fist. 

I heard heavy breathing and laughing outside the door. The banging continued. This wasn’t a time to cry. I had to be calm. And I was too scared to cry. I was a ghostly shade of white and panic stricken. I crawled under the bed, yelling “get away from here! I’m calling the police!” This would have been difficult, considering the fact that there was no phone in the room AND I didn’t have my cell. I was going to get raped to death. I was FREAKING OUT! 

Miraculously, the banging stopped; I grabbed my bag, ran out of the room like a bullet, down the 8 flights of stairs. I let the front desk keep the $200 I had given them for what I planned to be a week long stay. (to be continued)

dude of the day!!!!!

Who the hell is this guy? And what was he doing at space 1520 on cahuenga??? Why did I waste so much money flying overseas (London, Paris, Italy, Hamburg and all over Switzerland) to have romantic rendezvous’ with exotic looking dudes who barely speak English, don’t feel the need to bathe on a daily basis, and have sex all epic and animal like- when I could’ve stayed in my hometown with this guy! LOOK AT HIS FUCKING PILLOW CUSHION LIPS! I’m sorry; I just fainted, what’s happening? Oh yeah…from what I can remember, when I was taking his pic, this guy spoke English (that’s a bonus, right?), but I couldn’t hear a word he said. 


He had holes in his sweater; his hands were all rugged and rough! And the best part: he SMELLED European. LOOK AT HIS SKIN. It’s all olivey toned! and those eyes that look so deep and sad. Lets face it. This dude would fuck the shit out of you! I’m just worried that he might be too nice (Is there such a thing? YES!) and end up falling in love with you. If you meet this dude in person, let him prove me wrong. But you can still let him fuck the shit of you. What’s that phrase? ‘Fuck till you bleed’? Anywayzies, it’s the least he can do.

the cute boy i had to delete from my website:

now don’t freak out too hard…..but i found a very cute young man for you! his name is **** and the minute i put my eyes on him at the 101 cafe I WENT MENTAL, had no shame, gave him a sticker for this site, got his number, and did a follow up call the next day. i was serious. DEAD SERIOUS! this was no joke for me. we have a mutual friend, so i knew he probably wasn’t a killer. not only that, he’s ALSO part of a sexy young dude directing team. very modern, very hip and perfect material for imboycrazy.com.

i went to his house to do the interview and i was super nervous. i had to leave my jacket on cuz i had broken out in a cold sweat and didn’t want to take the chance of being embarrassed by my physical freakout. upon my arrival, i EXPECTED to walk into a room with him and his friends raging, partying, putting on makeup for the hell of it, looking at porn, dancing in american apparel undies, eating pizzas and burritos. but i was mistaken.

the house was quiet and had an uuber serious/grown up vibe. oh shit! **** and his directing team were in work mode! no one wants to be around a bunch of guys in work mode! so i pulled dori aside, threw him into an empty room and together we pulled off quite possibly one of the BEST boycrazy interviews yet! don’t miss a second of either video! it’s too good! xo ps:look how happy he looks in these pictures! i make people smile and that’s all i can ask for!

the boys of american apparel:

this boy is adorable! i don’t know if it’s cuz he’s young, has super long hair or what?! it could be a million different things combined! i’ve seen him at the store he works at for a while and he’s always a sweetheart, in a good mood, free of a bad attitude. he got a bit camera shy, which is even cuter. looking back, i feel like a monster with my questions…but he said he’d be interviewed! so this is more an example of yet another cute boy that exists in the world and more specifically…one that works on melrose. at least on this site, you not only get to LOOK at a cute boy, you get to HEAR him speak and get a tiny sense of his personality too. in this case, i think he’s just trying to get away from me/regretting his decision to let me interview him…but a cute boy talking nonetheless! xo

the boys of american apparel- long haired beauty: from alexi wasser on Vimeo.



Page 1 of 212