in the name of love/a response to my bullshit (part 6):

THEIR ANSWERS:

TO MY QUESTION:

BOYCRAZY RADIO TONIGHT!

Instead of just advertising my podcast ‘BOYCRAZY RADIO’ tonight at 9pm PST,

i thought I’d get back to my roots and include a video interview of a babe i found at intelligentsia yesterday! that place is dude mecca! if you live in la, and are reading this website, I’m sure you already know all about it. but if you DON’T and are planning a visit… totally add it to your itinerary! the coffee’s good too even!

as for the vid, my camera was set to some bizarro mode, and is picking up weird trace colors. so don’t go thinking this beautiful dude has peach colored paint on his face or whatevs… cuz he totally doesn’t!

watch him answer my questions about break-ups, marriage, and texting!

———————————————————————————————————————

back to my radio plug:


TONIGHT!

WEDNESDAY APRIL 28, 2010!

TUNE INTO – BOYCRAZY RADIO!

AT 9PM PST/12AM EST

JUST CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

you are not alone! that’s what I’m here for!

call me tonight!

we’ll bro out and talk about the season premiere of the hills, love, sex, relationships, monogamy, birth control, stds, abortions, binge eating, stupid parents you hate- who hate you maybers? the mall, boy/girl trolling, weight, suicide, depression, outfits, house parties, bbqs, target, cramps, your period, flirting, picking up girls/guys, going down on a dude/a girl, approaching the opposite sex, or just say hi! whatevs!

DIAL: 1(646) 378-0649

TALK TO YOU LATER TONIGHT! xo, Alexi

make it YOURS mondays!

SIDE BOOBS!

periods and murderers (part 3):

(CONTINUED FROM HERE)

I called my ex fling who’d vouched for the shit-hole hotel to begin with, figuring he owed me.

He said I could stay with him. the only thing was, I didn’t wanna have sex with him at all, but I knew I’d feel obligated. He’s a dude, I’m a girl, and we’d already had sex.

I just shouldn’t have gone to New York. yikes, being a teenager who thinks she can handle everything can be very confusing.

He was house-sitting for a painter in the east village.

when i got there, a bunch of his friends we’re hanging out. two of which were a photographer girl and her bestest girlfriend the fashion designer.

these girls were mean. they were flaunting their intimate friendship making it very clear that there was no chance they’d ever even consider opening up the group to make room for me. they were an exclusive club that was at capacity, and i was the nerd outside standing in line.

geeze, I didn’t even have time to decide if I liked them, before they made it clear they were excluding me.

so I drank to avoid being ill at ease. creating more bloat that I’d hate myself for later.

We sat around, watched a movie, listened to Andrew wk, and talked a bunch of random bullshit.  The only one who wasn’t there was the woman who actually owned the apartment. eventually everyone went home, leaving me and the dude to ourselves.

I dreaded this, cuz I wasn’t feeling sexual. But he was slowly morphing into a self-proclaimed doctor of sexy. Healing girls who didn’t feel good about themselves. and it was clear he was about to take me on as his first patient.

we laid on the living room floor and started kissing. i could handle this. maybe he would just french kiss me for a bit then fall asleep?

He pulled my pants down, 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 passive bullshit, I would have. But I was so deep inside my skin. that i couldn’t see or take ownership of myself. i couldn’t stop apologizing for myself. it was Like everyone else was perfect, and I was just lucky to be among them. It makes my skin crawl just thinking about it! how spineless and weak i was. what was i so scared of? why did i care what anyone thought about me?

He didn’t stop pulling my pants down. Huh? That’s weird, I thought, he must not have heard me. 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, preceded to go down on me…..

and I’m pretty sure I came.

BOYCRAZY RADIO!

TONIGHT!

WEDNESDAY APRIL 21, 2010!

TUNE IN TOBOYCRAZY RADIO!

AT 9PM PST/12AM EST

JUST CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

call in and ask questions about love, dating, sex, boys, girls, or just say hi!

DIAL: 1(646) 378-0649

TALK TO YOU LATER TONIGHT! xoxo, Alexi

periods and murderers (part 2):

(CONTINUED FROM HERE)

I called the boy I’d come to New York for. We’d had one epic make out during a previous visit & I wanted so badly to recapture whatever it is i thought we’d had when I’d last seen him. but when i got to his place- it just wasn’t there anymore. and this whole visit was putting way too much pressure on the both of us.

i wasn’t in a good place emotionally either, not just cuz I’d nearly been murdered only moments earlier, but because I didn’t like my body anymore. I’d gained weight since I’d last seen him. and at that time, I thought that what I looked like was the only thing that defined my self worth. I felt needy and aimless. I didn’t feel loved or safe. And it wasn’t this dudes job to provide me with any of that. He was basically a stranger.
and was it just me, or was I like a foot taller than him. I guess I’d never realized how much my head tilted down when we were talking.
I was low. I was depressed. and then I GOT MY PERIOD.

instead of making up an excuse so i could run downstairs to a bodega or something and buy tampons and baby wipes; then swing by a starbux so i could use their bathroom, and buy us two lattes, so i could return with lattes in hand saying something like ‘god, they took forever to make these lattes’ which is what i would do NOW- I went mute and did nothing. he suggested we smoke pot. i really didn’t want to, so i said, ‘ok’.

as usual, the pot made me paranoid as fuck. suddenly every look and move he made was negative and aimed towards me. we passed out at his house… and I prayed I wouldn’t bleed on his sheets.

I left in the morning, without saying goodbye. and we never spoke again. (TO BE CONTINUED)

make it YOURS mondays!

DEAR GIRL, I LOVE THIS VIDEO SO MUCH IT HURTS! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! BEST M.I.Y.M SO FAR! XO, ALEXI

periods and murderers:

This Wednesday, after my podcast, i did a reading of a short story i wrote- at an even called ‘Literary Death Match’ hosted by Todd Zuniga, who’s a TOTAL babe btw! he looks like the dude from ‘harold and maude’/my long lost brother… that i want to have sex with, kind of, maybe!

after we read our stories to the super packed crowd/uuber supportive audience; the three other performers and i were critiqued by the judges: mary lynn rajskub (24, mr show), scott shriner (weezer bassist), and james morrison (private practice, 24).

did i win? no. did i have a blast? YES!

here is the story that i read:

‘THOSE WERE THE DAYS’

Once upon a time, a much younger version of me went to New York to see a boy.

i barely had any money, but an ex fling of mine told me about a cheap hotel, exclusively advertised in the back pages of the village voice. $200 dollars a week DID sound too good to be true. especially in new York’s fashionable meat packing district! but i was a hopeful dreamer!

when i got there, the hotel was a shit hole filled with the borderline homeless and trannys. a place where hookers took their john. god, I was an idiot. Or was i just super young? maybe a bit of both.

I rode up in the hotels jalopy of an elevator, while a big black hulking brute of a man stood behind me, his warm breath on my neck as he bore a hole in the back of my head with his relentless stare. I think he was drooling too- not that i think I’m hot shit or anything, I’m sure he would have drooled over any girl he was planning on killing with his bare hands. but that day, it was me! me!

We arrived at my floor. I ran to my room, and he quickly followed behind me. as i ran, i hoped he didn’t think i was racist, cuz I’m not- but the blood on his face and his lazy eye made me nervous, not to mention the fact that he was following me after having pressed the button for another floor.

i got to my room, and the peephole was filled with toilet paper. Someone had removed the glass and filled it with toilet paper. The room was as small as an American apparel dressing room. But not nearly as modern and bright.

I could hear a mans heavy breathing and laughter outside. so I pushed my bag AND a chair against the door.

suddenly there was a knock, Which progressed into a threatening banging! “Let me in miss. You better let me in!” It was the guy from the elevator!

The banging continued. I was too scared to cry. This wasn’t a time to cry. I had to be calm. I crawled under the bed, yelling “get away from here! I’m calling the police!” This would have been difficult, considering there was no phone in the room AND I didn’t have a cell.

I was going to get raped to death.

I grabbed my bag, pried open the window and climbed 8 flights down the fire escape like a bullet,letting the front desk keep my $200. (TO BE CONTINUED)

podcast tonight @ 6pm pst:

TONIGHT! EARLIER TIME- 6PM pst

WEDNESDAY APRIL 14, 2010!

TUNE IN TOBOYCRAZY RADIO’!

6PM PST/9PM EST

JUST CLICK HERE TO LISTEN

CALL IN AND ASK QUESTIONS: about love, dating, sex, boys, girls, or just say hi!

DIAL: 1(646) 378-0649

TALK TO YOU LATER TONIGHT!

(IF YOU MISS THE LIVE SHOW, I’LL POST THE SHOW ON HERE AFTER IT AIRS)

xoxo, Alexi

PS:

FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER @imboycrazy

FOLLOW IMBOYCRAZY PODCAST ON I-TUNES.



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