Starry wuz supposed to write about this thing she went to that Paper Magazeen did and she forgot. She feels like a stupid-ass slutty bitch with no taste. In other wordz she feelz fine.

So um. Sh7t. Starry kind of forgets what happened b/c it was so long ago but like Paper magazine bought this store on La Brea that used to sell furniture and pasta and now it sells nothing so they want 2 cellabrate. It wuz chill. They had some pictures of people wearing turtlenecks sticking they tongues out. They also gave out wine which was cool b/c Starry didn’t have $1.78 to buy the bottle. There wuz some people there like Phyllis Diller. There was also some skinny hating bitches who wished they had Starry’z long legz and hott azz. And there wur girls there 2. A few people weren’t dOOshbaGGz and had style. 4 instance: Starry had to give maddd properz to 1 boy who wore a leather kimono jacket with lariat pendant and trompe-l’oeil harem pants. She thinks a Steven Speilberg movie threw up on him but he worked it OWWWT!!!

So that wuz thee 1rst part of the evening. The nexxxt part took place at Club Montmartre near Hollywood Boulevard and Bowling Alley Lane. Az she stands in line Starry’z always looks out for fresh hotteezz to share the torch of her amazingness with. No lukk. Starry’z mind wandered and she had an idea for a special purse that u could put your tights in. Then she saw a fantastik Chinese boy with Jherri curls, coke-bottle glasses, and a vest. Cheech and Chong+Peter O’Toole=GR8 look! Starry was back to urth.

Insyde the klub it was dark and vintagy. A cellebritty koreogriffur was teaching people how to dance the part from Thriller with the monsters. Starry always liked Mykull Jakkson’s lyrikks better than his dancing but since she wuz already wearing a rotted wedding dress from her private collekshun she decided to join the fun. B4 she knew it it wuz eight weekz latur and her dance moves had aged worse than a cropped denim jacket. Thanks for the Belvedere C-Breezes PAPER!!!

STARRY’Z THEZAURUZ

(the following phrases are commonly misinterpreted)

“You’ve got good game.” = “You’ve got good game.”

“I like your tights.” = “I hate your tights.”

“What’s your name?” = “Would you like to come back to my apartment in Glendale and look at my seven TV remotes?”