CHAPTER I: WHAT’S YOUR TWENTY?

Smoking weed, drinking cocktails, and laughing with celebrities seemed like an ideal career path to me. Chelsea was living my dream. She was blonde, rich, sexy, confident, and hilarious. Most of her success came from writing about her boobs, dogs, and vodka sponsored adventures. I admired people like her and hoped to be one someday. 

After studying her show’s credits, I friended the cast and crew members on social media. Somehow I managed to weasel my way into a few interviews. Then E! offered me an internship at Chelsea Lately!

Chelsea and I were going to be best friends, I could feel it. Blunts on the beach, standup shows, photoshoots, ski trips, the works. 

I sent a follow up email to the producers to thank them for the opportunity and ask them a few basic questions. They responded saying there was a mix up, because the show couldn’t bring on any more interns at that time. I was crushed. Especially since I had already bragged about it to all my friends on social media.

A few months went by and I reached out again, this time to Maggie, one of Chelsea’s assistants. After some DMs back and forth, Maggie hired me as her personal production intern. I was beyond stoked to be Chelsea’s assistant’s assistant’s assistant! It didn’t even bother me that it was an unpaid gig. It was my foot in the door to Hollywood! 

I couldn’t believe how Chelsea the Chelsea Lately offices were. Chelsea’s name and face were plastered all over everything! It was Chelsea Chelsea this and Chelsea Chelsea that. Bras were hanging from the ceilings and there were pictures of her tits and ass decorating the walls. 

If you want to be a star you essentially have to be a narcissistic egomaniac. You have to believe you’re the shit in order to convince others that you’re worthy of the spotlight. Not like I should judge, I’m a total attention whore. 

Chelsea met Maggie way before she got famous. The two of them became friends while working at a comedy club, back when Chelsea was touring on the road. Chelsea later met a rich man with major connections. He helped move Maggie out to Santa Monica to work as Chelsea’s personal assistant towards the beginning of her career. 

It took me a really long time to figure out that I was Maggie’s secret illegal intern. She told me to stay downstairs away from the rest of the cast and crew. My office was a closet that was decorated to look like a dungeon. Maggie even put a sign on the door that read “intern dungeon.” It was way too far away from the vodka water cooler and breakfast buffet.

Cameras add weight, so the female comedians taught me all sorts of diet tricks, like how to scoop all the bread out of a bagel before toasting it. My dungeon was next to the stage and guest dressing rooms, so I saw movie stars and pop stars more than my actual coworkers. 

Reese Witherspoon was one of the first celebrities I met in real life. She was so kind, funny, and itty bitty. Her face was glowing and her positive energy changed the vibes of the whole fucking building. I really wanted to tell Reese about my Legally Blonde themed thirteenth birthday party, but Chelsea made me nervous, so I hid in the corner instead. 

Maggie told me that some of the male comedians got upset when they heard that I got the original internship offer. They didn’t want some random dumb blonde Orange County girl working there. I looked like I “might break a nail.”  My heels, push up bra, and platinum blonde extensions weren’t helping. 

The crew wanted a strong man who could get shit done, which was why they revoked their previous offer. I couldn’t believe how much sexist bullshit was going on behind the scenes of a show hosted by powerful women. 

In hindsight, I might have dressed inappropriately for the interview. I looked like I wanted to be on the show, not work on the show. I was all dolled up, ready to take the stage!

The male intern they chose instead of me came from major family money. He bounced around the office on a yoga ball while drinking margaritas with the comedians. He lived in a mansion in the hills while I couch surfed around town. I loved him, but hated the fact that I was doing all the work, while he 

got all the credit and screen time!

My coworkers bragged about their wild drunken drug fueled adventures while I suffered from major fomo. I was excluded from all the big company parties and vacations, because I was an underaged secret employee.

Chelsea and I were never formally introduced, even though I worked for her for years. At times I would be in her home or office doing my job and feared she might catch me working. 

Maggie had two rules: #1 Don’t bother or talk to Chelsea. #2 Never ask a celebrity for a photo or an autograph. “Remember, you want to be a friend, not a fan!”

Chelsea was a blur. Sometimes I would see her quickly passing through the hallways between shows, flights, photoshoots, or pilates lessons. She had a reputation for being a total fucking bitch, but seemed like a really kind and generous person. Chelsea worked her ass off and funded multiple people's lives. She played pranks on friends and family members, but rewarded them later with things like bikes, cars, and vacations… which sounded like a pretty fair trade to me.

Every once in a while Chelsea would stop and look at me. She was probably wondering “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” I would quietly stare back at her like a deer in the headlights before bolting. Her confidence scared the shit out of me.

Chelsea’s life was abundantly filled with money and success, but I couldn't help but wonder, was it all worth it? Did she ever get a break? Would she ever get a chance to relax and enjoy everything she earned?

There was something appealing about that kind of lifestyle, even though it looked fucking exhausting. She was constantly creating and helping others. I admired her extreme level of ambition and ability to put herself out there.

Chelsea spoke to psychics for years. She didn’t talk about her magical beliefs publicly, but I desperately wanted to know more about them. Maggie told me that a famous LA psychic helped lead Chelsea towards her abundant destiny.

The power of fame and having a platform is undeniable. 

Chelsea adopted her dog from a kill shelter, which inspired people to save older dogs, instead of buying puppies. Many people sent pictures of their beloved pets to the show to thank Chelsea for influencing them to adopt animals in need. 

Taking Chunk outside for his morning shit was my duty. He seemed to time out his dumps perfectly. I was often picking up dog poop on the side of the road while celebrity guests arrived. We even made it into a few paparazzi shots!

Chunk had a snobby elitist attitude. He knew he was more rich and famous than me. He sure won the dog lottery by getting adopted by Chelsea. Shit, I wanted her to adopt me too!

One time the crew members filled my car with bottles of vodka for me to deliver to Chelsea’s friends for the holidays. No one seemed to care that I was an underaged teenager. 

It was wild seeing so many famous faces and families in real life. Most of them had butlers or servants answer their doors. Some of the celebrities invited me into their mansions to hang out, eat, or chat. Everyone assumed that I knew Chelsea personally, which made me cool by association. 

Jay Leno was eating a giant turkey leg when I walked into his office. When I handed him a bottle of vodka from Chelsea he said “LET’S TAKE A SHOT!” I was so scared of getting caught underaged drinking and driving with all that liquor in my car, so I yelled “HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!” while waving and running away from him.

One night I delivered a bottle of vodka to one of Chelsea’s friends in Malibu. She invited me to stay for Christmas cookies and snacks. She gave me a tour of her beachfront mansion while sharing stories about her fun times with Chelsea back in the day. 

People always wanted me to say something to Chelsea for them. I agreed, but never relayed their messages. They asked me so many questions about her and I would make up answers that seemed fit. Is she nice? Sure. How is she doing? Great. Is she a bitch? Totally.

Chelsea had no problem with co-workers dating one another. Where else would people meet if they were working all the time? There were lots of overlapping office romance dramas. Everyone gossiped about who was fucking who. It was hard to know what rumors were true, because the comedians lied and pranked each other all the time. 

One of the crew members went through a break up with Chelsea’s best friend and then dated Chelsea’s assistant. Then a comedian that Chelsea had a crush on dated her other assistant. He ended up dumping her and dated Chelsea later on. That relationship gave them tons of fame and attention. They gave off endgame vibes, but it didn’t last long. His comedy career took off thanks to Chelsea, but I’m sure he wanted to be single for his little fifteen minute movie star moment.

People sent Chelsea free stuff all the time. There’s so much power in being an influential trendsetter. Since Chelsea didn’t want most of those things the rest of us got to keep them. I basically got paid in extra small Juicy Couture sweatsuits and gigantic bottles of Belvedere Vodka. 

Maggie and I loved getting wasted off all the free vodka from Chelsea’s endorsement deals. We would go out to clubs looking bomb as fuck, but wear fake hillbilly teeth. Guys would hit on us, we would flash them a smile, and watch them react. Most got flustered, spilt their drinks, and ran away. It didn’t matter if other people found us funny, because we thought that we were fucking hilarious.  

One night, we got some fast food, after some bunts and cocktails. We saw a poor, sad man sitting on a bench. Maggie always wanted to help people, so we bought him some Taco Bell. When we gave him a burrito he threw it on the ground, leaped into a fancy sports car, and zoomed off while flipping us off. We thought that he was homeless, but he was just a hipster. Whoopsies. 

Chelsea drank regularly, but never drove drunk. She always had a designated driver give her a ride home. I helped her assistants get her vehicles back to her house after many drunken nights out. 

I ended up living with Kara, who was Chelsea’s main assistant. One night Chelsea got drunk and Ubered home so we had to get her car back to her house. Kara accidentally scratched Chelsea’s Bentley that night while driving and was scared to tell her what happened. Chelsea didn’t even care. It was no big deal to her. She was beyond understanding and had plenty of money to fix it. 

Kara got married young back in Oklahoma. She moved to LA to pursue her Hollywood dreams. Her husband and dog came too, but they weren’t built for that scene, so things didn’t work out. After their divorce Kara started dating one of our coworkers. The three of us lived off of tacos, Marlboro Lights, and Modeleos in West Hollywood for a few years. Now they’re real grown ups, married with a baby!

One year Kara got to spend Thanksgiving with Chelsea Handler and Jennifer Anniston. Our apartment was covered in Friends memorabilia and pictures of Jennifer Anniston. I wondered if either of them knew that Kara was a Friends superfan. Kara is pretty quiet, shy, and introverted compared to them. She was probably fanning the fuck out on the inside while trying to play it cool. 

Maggie lived in a lavish modern loft near the beach, dated hot celebrities, and only wore designer clothes. I drove her to most of her plastic surgery appointments. Her surgeon, Dr. Dubrow, was famous for appearing on reality shows. His work was incredible! I loved watching his surgical process in real life. I took care of Maggie at a fancy resort in Newport post rhinoplasty. She recovered inside while I drank poolside. Maggie ordered us everything off of the room service menu, which was Chelsea’s routine during standup tours. 

Chelsea had a little nugget sidekick named Chuy on the show. Most of the jokes about him involved his height, weight, or race. He loved it, but there’s no way that shit would fly today. Chuy gave so many hot young girls tours of the stage and office. We wondered if they were bunnies or strippers. I didn’t get many lines on the show, but they had him check me out in a few scenes.

The stylists didn’t think I was skinny enough to play sexy roles. They layered me up in corsets and shapewear to help make me look more attractive. In one episode Chuy stared at my tits during a yoga scene. For some reason I was really proud to play the office slut for free. 

One day the wardrobe department forgot to put a dress in Chelsea’s car before a big event. I raced over to her mansion, parked outside the gate, ran up the hill, and delivered the gown to her house manager. Somehow I ended up getting locked inside of her property. Nobody answered the door and her assistants never responded to my calls or texts. I wanted to climb over the gate to get out, but I worried I might break it, or it might impale me, so I just nervously waited around her yard. I was scared Chelsea might call the cops and report me as a trespasser. What if I got arrested for doing my job? What if the security footage ended up on the show? Chelsea was too busy to know what was going on. Chunk judged me through the window. He wanted to be outside while I wanted to be inside. Somebody must have eventually seen me, because the gates randomly opened, and I managed to escape.

When I first started working there I was so young, innocent, and naive. I remember the comedians talking about how they wanted to get an eight ball for the holiday party. I thought they wanted one of those plastic magic eight ball toys to answer random questions. Luckily my queer friends in WEHO cleared up that confusion real fast, before I made a complete fool out of myself in front of the comedians. They all lowkey scared the shit out of me.

The world was a different place back then. Comedy was funny. People made jokes and didn’t care about offending other people. In a way, that was kind of the point. Being able to laugh at ourselves and others helped make life more bearable. There were no real rules back then, which was why we had so much fun. People got way more sensitive over the years, including me.

It was wild to see Jim Carrey shamelessly rawdog his ADHD vibes at Chelsea Lately. I’ve always appreciated artists who embrace authenticity despite all the societal pressures to be basic. 

I’ve always loved Jim Carrey. He’s a real renaissance artist. Actor, painter, dancer, writer, chameleon extraordinaire! His work can be so funny, yet dark. All the dramatic highs and lows speak to me. I usually enjoy hearing his perspectives on art, religion, politics, and spirituality. 

Everything Jim Carrey did should’ve been cringe, but it was so fucking hot. Confidence plus humor equals sexy. Guess you could say he has a certain je ne sais quoi! Just ignore my daddy issues and go with it. 

Justin Bieber came on Chelsea Lately towards the beginning of his career. He kept trying to flirt with Chelsea during their interview. Since Justin was just a teenager it upset Chelsea. She probably felt like he was framing her to look like a creepy ass pedophile. I thought it was kinda funny. Little did Chelsea know that an unpaid teenager was in the next room over drinking all of her vodka.

Maybe Chelsea did know about me. Maybe she knew what was going on the whole time? Maybe she just looked the other direction? Maggie would always say things like “Chelsea is so proud of you!” and I’d think “Chelsea doesn’t even know that I fucking exist!” The whole thing was such a mind fuck.

I know I sound like such a hater when I talk about this internship, but it was lowkey the highlight of my life. Chelsea Lately was such a fun show to work on. I can’t believe that I was coworkers with hilarious talented people like Chelsea Handler, Jo Koy, Heather McDonald, Chris Franjola, Sarah Colonna, Ross Mathews, Michael Yo, Natasha Leggero, Brad Wollack, Fortune Feimster, Whitney Cummings, Chuy Bravo, and more. 

The constant stream of vodka mixed with endless drugs, pranks, and celebrities made it a unique and memorable work environment to say the least. I can’t believe the shit we got away with. It doesn’t even feel real. Sometimes I wonder if it was all just a dream. 

By the way, when Chelsea got mad at Justin Bieber for hitting on her I thought that she couldn’t take a joke and that she was being too dramatic. Now that all the Diddy White Party Freak Off stories have come out, I know that Chelsea made the right decision. Justin had way too many adults taking advantage of him emotionally, morally, sexually, and financially. So many tv hosts and celebrities were inappropriately hitting on him publicly when he was just a little boy. My heart breaks thinking about what he’s been through. Back in the day I really wanted to go to a Diddy White Party, I had the worst FOMO ever, but now I’m glad that I wasn’t invited.

I was an intern, a coffee barista, and a college student all at the same time. It was a bit much, especially considering how much I was partying.

One time when I was working at the register at Starbucks a lady asked me if she could use the restroom. When I told her that we didn’t have a bathroom she screamed, pulled down her pants, and took a massive shit on the floor. The intense rage and eye contact seemed unnecessary. I ran to the back of the store, told the manager what happened, and announced that I wouldn’t be cleaning it up. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull while he let out a long audible exhale. He took care of the mess and quit that job shortly after. 

Most of my barista coworkers were stoned surfers, who taught me all about sex and drugs. It was the education I needed. Their wisdom made me seem like less of a fucking loser around the comedians. We often closed the coffee shop early to hotbox the place and eat all the pastries. Starbucks didn’t have any security cameras back then, so nobody gave a fuck about anything.  

One day while I was working, a mentally ill homeless man asked me a series of questions about bus routes that I was unable to answer. He yelled at me for being a selfish bitch and threw someone's innocent latte on the ground. Whatever I said must have deeply upset him. After that he started stalking me around town, which was fucking terrifying. He came back to the shop a few days later, to show off his collection of knives that were lining the inside of his jacket. Then he gave my coworkers a “present” for me. It was a rusty old penny, in hopes that I would “shove it up my asshole and die a horrible blood curdling painful death.” The new manager told me to never come back to that Starbucks again.  

The company transferred me to a different location, which was stalker free, and way less chaotic. Some might say I was the crazy one there, instead of the customers. On my last day I wore hillbilly teeth to work and most people thought they were real. My coworkers loved it, they put me on register. Only men shared their verbal opinions about my appearance. One dude was such an asshole, he ranted about surgical options, while his girlfriend elbowed him to shut up. Another guy got startled and spilt hot coffee all over himself. One guy commented that I could potentially be attractive if I fixed my teeth. My social experiment proved how shallow people can be, especially in California. 

The Chelsea Lately comedians were proud of me for pranking strangers. It felt like I was finally part of the crew. We even kept that stupid joke going by doing a sexy photoshoot with fake hillbilly teeth. 

Around that same time Maggie got really into Agape, an LA Christian based religion focused around love and positivity. She acted ecstatically happy all the time and got rid of all of her belongings. 

Maggie confidently believed in manifestation, positive thinking, and the law of attraction. We expected our lives to be filled with fame and fortune. She started posting about her beliefs around the same time the network changed filming locations. It didn’t look good for the show. Some might say it wasn’t “on brand.” 

The show cut her from production, so we both had to find new jobs. Luckily Maggie always knew how to look on the brightside. She dreamed of being a famous rapper and finally had time to pursue that goal. 

Working in the entertainment industry taught me way more than school did. Colleges were ripping off young people, by charging them tons of money to learn about outdated technology. There was no need to learn about media from old people, old equipment, or old textbooks. 

Going into debt over a piece of paper, just to impress some old squares, never made sense to me. College parties sucked compared to stand up shows, red carpet events, and Playboy mansion parties.

My family totally freaked out when I told them that I dropped out of school to pursue show business. Chelsea never went to college and she was fine! Somehow I’d learn how to survive. 

Going to an elite school could get me into rooms or parties with the right people, but so could show business! I could make impressive connections while working in Hollywood, without having to go into massive amounts of debt. That route sounded way more fun, exciting, and lucrative.

I knew that my curiosity and adventures would continue to expand my mind. I could always keep learning new things from experiences, travels, books, stories, shows, etc. There's always much more room for improvement. 

Ho hired me to be his assistant. He was a comedian on Chelsea Lately for years. It was awkward working as a personal bitch for someone who didn’t trust me. Ho would ask me my opinion on things, but do the exact opposite every time. I tried to talk him out of so many bad wardrobe choices. Chelsea always roasted him for being a fame whore with terrible outfits. He obviously enjoyed being bullied by her. Ho always worried that I didn’t find him funny. I went to most of his standup comedy shows and he would get upset if I didn’t laugh out loud during his routines. 

I heard his jokes repeated so many times. If you want to hold an audience, keep things new and fresh! He had a good bit about his mom, who’s name is Kum Ho. I guess it was more of a fun fact than a joke, but it was still funny. 

Whenever Theo Von performed I nearly died laughing. I’d be crying while suffocating in response to his jokes. One time he performed in Irvine and I was the only person in the audience laughing out loud. I slid into his DMs after the show and said “Rough crowd, but I think you’re funny!” He said “Yeah, Irvine is full of tight asses.” As someone who’s from Orange County, I couldn't agree more! We exchanged numbers, but never spoke, or saw each other again after that. I’m sure we both have different phone numbers now, but I still have him saved in my contacts. Ho was funny too, but his sense of humor was a little too tame for my taste. Nikki Glaser slut shaming herself while roasting the fuck out of celebrity strangers was way more my speed. 

My favorite work days were when I got to assist Ho at E! News. I idolized hosts like Joan Rivers and Chelsea Handler, so I couldn’t believe I was working with or around them. Maybe someday I could be a confident funny blonde bitch on tv too!

Whenever I was in the same rooms as Joan Rivers and Chelsea Handler I felt completely invisible. Even though I was right there next to them, it was like watching them on TV or behind glass at a zoo. Whenever I walked by the Fashion Police in the hallways at E!, Kelly Osbourne was the only host that looked me in the eyes, said hello, and asked me how I was doing. It was nice to have a celebrity simply acknowledge my existence.

Ho didn’t trust any of his employees. One time he had me stay at his place to watch over his maids, because he was afraid they might steal something. His apartment was extremely modern and minimalistic. There was nothing for them to take even if they wanted to. Towards the end of their shift, I ran downstairs to put some money in my parking meter. While I was outside, a fire started in his building, and I got locked out. His maids were gone by the time I got back inside. Ho fired me after the fire. 

Years passed by while I watched Maggie post some questionable pictures online. They concerned me, then inspired me to reach out. I relentlessly questioned her until she confessed that she was living on the streets. 

When I got Maggie to meet up with me her skin was so sunburnt and her clothes were falling apart. It was wild to watch someone fall so far that fast. Her life looked like a dream turned into a nightmare. 

She was still so positive, despite losing everything. Maggie believed that experience was the street cred she needed to fulfill her dream of becoming a famous rapper. 

Maggie told me stories about the different homeless clicks and how they would perform or compete in the streets. They had dance and rap battles on Santa Monica Beach and Skid Row. Maggie’s struggles made her strong and fearless. She hit rock bottom, survived, and felt completely invincible. 

Homeless people in LA are usually pretty talented. They moved there with big dreams, but never accomplished their goals. There are actually really hot homeless people all over that city. Most of them can’t hold a home or a job long term due to addictions and mental illnesses. 

Maggie apologized to me for making me work as her secret illegal intern. She confessed that she collected all the paychecks for all the hard work that I completed at Chelsea Lately. On some level I kinda already knew the truth. Luckily that experience led me towards other opportunities. In a way she helped me more than she hurt me. We agreed to laugh it off and put our past mistakes behind us. I considered her my best friend, before I knew that she was taking advantage of me. It’s smart to forgive, but dumb to forget!

Maggie was too embarrassed to ask for help, but that didn’t stop me from reaching out to Chelsea’s other assistants. I was concerned for her safety. 

Chelsea gave Maggie money for clothes, doctors appointments, and a ticket back to her home state. There’s nothing wrong with being rich. The more money you have the more you’re able to help others! 

The last time I saw Maggie was when I drove her to the train station. I told her that LA fucking sucks. It isn’t worth all the pain and suffering. Maybe at a certain point it’s best to let go of some dreams and move on. It was time for her to go somewhere nicer, better, calmer, fresher, and easier. 

I should have listened to my own advice. Little did I know that I was about to face my own series of borderline amazing rock bottom moments as well. 

Everyone has problems, no matter what their lives look like on the outside. 

Our biggest fuck ups are our best stories. 

Let’s laugh and learn from them together.

CHAPTER II: THE INEBRIATED TRUTH

I got a day job working as a tour guide at Universal Studios, which happened to be Chelsea Lately’s new filming location. It was weird showing tourists my old work at my new job, in front of my new and former coworkers. 

Most of The Studio Tour artificially replicated nature. It was filled with fake jungles, earthquake simulations, dangerous cgi animals, faux flash floods, and animatronic creatures. 

It was my job to dramatically react to each scenario. I screamed and cried while Bruce the mechanical shark devoured my fake husbands. 

Movies often villainize animals by making them seem more threatening than they are in real life. Hollywood encourages people to hate and fear sharks. Animals can be aggressive, but humans are much more destructive. Never underestimate the power of hungry or threatened creatures.

People are fucking crazy. All sorts of weird shit happened during my tours. I never knew when or if someone might scream, pee, smoke, throw up, fight, drink, masterbate, bleed, give birth, start a fire, or shit themselves. 

I made myself learn how to talk in-front of people and cameras by working as a performer. Even if I was sick with anxiety, I forced myself to develop communication skills. It’s smart to use jobs as educational experiences. That line of work taught me how to improvise and fake confidence. Adaptability is my superpower!

A lot of the tour guides were aspiring comedians, who were in constant search of their next source of material. We did all sorts of fun stupid shit, just for the sake of a good story. 

Our employers had such a hard time getting us to wear our dorky ass uniforms at work, but we had no problem wearing them out to the local bars and strip clubs. 

There were so many rumors about tour guides dumping tour guides for other tour guides. Everyone got drunk and fucked everybody! It was so much fun.

My roommate and I went out for drinks with one of our coworkers. On the drive home he started crying while looking out the passenger window. When we asked him what was wrong he sobbed “I just really want to be an actor.” Then he drunkenly begged and cried for one of us to suck his dick.

Most of the people I met in LA were desperately thirsty for fame and so was I! Creative journalism always appealed to me. I’ve always been a sucker for a good story.

We gave lots of private studio tours to wealthy celebrities. I’ve met so many stars over the years and most of them were conceited assholes. Not all, but most. The people who worked behind the scenes were generally much more tolerable than the ones we watched on screens. 

It was hard to tell if the talent on the backlot wanted to be seen. Most of them were friendly, they would come up to say hi, or take pictures with the tour groups. Some of them screamed at us for interrupting their scenes. A few of them jumped behind cars or bushes to hide.

If you want to be in the spotlight, you have to be okay with it shining on you all the time. The lights and cameras don’t turn off at the end of the show or movie. The audience’s attention will follow you wherever you go, especially nowadays thanks to social media and paparazzi. That level of attention from fame doesn’t just turn off, unless you disappear. Some people run away from it all for their own mental health and sanity. Others end up getting canceled or dare I say fucked. 

I’ll never forget the time Lorelai Gilmore rolled her eyes at me and yelled “LOOKS LIKE WE'RE ON SAFARI AGAIN!” I interrupted her Parenthood scenes way too many times. 

Steven Speilburg often came up to the guests to say hi, talk about movies, and take pictures. Sometimes I’d see him grab coffee before going to work. 

Jimmy Fallon was the virtual co-host for the studio tour. When I was lazy I made him carry all the weight by playing clips of him the entire time. Other days I would make the tour my own personal stand up comedy show and cut him out of the routine. 

I developed a little coworker beef with Jimmy over the years. I loved him on SNL, but his big hit single “TRAMTASTIC DAY” haunted me. I heard that song all day every day. Some of us tour guides boycotted playing it for a while, which got us in trouble. Our managers barked at us for playing too much Eminem and not enough Jimmy Fallon. 

Around that time I made the mistake of telling a man that I’m an SNL fan. We had only been dating for a few months when he gifted me a DICK IN A BOX for Christmas. Yes, he cut a hole in a wrapped up box for his limp little dick. I don’t remember how I reacted. I might have blacked out. 

Sometimes movie stars would take their families on the VIP Studio Tours. It was awkward teaching actors about films, because they actually worked on them, unlike us. Imagine trying to teach Brad Pitt about filmmaking. 

Russell Crowe brought his kids and their friends on the tour for his son's birthday. He warned all the tour guides that he was on a strict diet for a big movie role at the beginning of the day. Throughout the morning he asked us about our goals and dreams. He gave us some advice and seemed genuinely interested in our Hollywood career paths. Then he dropped tons of money on candy for all the kids. Soon after that he went into hangry beast mode. He demanded healthy food, something like spinach, so I ran all over the place searching for fresh vegetables. The theme park served beer and churros, so I failed at fulfilling his requests. 

During one of my tours I tore my achilles tendon while tripping over a fake cobblestone on a movie set. Of course the people on that tour were snobby assholes. They laughed when I hit the ground crying. One of them felt bad, so he gave me a fat tip. I tried to file for workers compensation, but I filled out the forms wrong, and fucked myself over. People later told me that the wealthy guests on that tour referred to me as their “Poor American Peasant.” 

Dancing was my favorite way to create and release. When I stopped moving due to getting hurt I developed an unhealthy relationship with my mind and body. Even after I healed I continued to stand in my own way, because my skills weren’t as strong as they used to be. 

Haunted houses freaked me out, I never went inside of them before working at that theme park. I’ve struggled with anxiety, depression, and sobriety for most of my life. It was next level while working as a performer, especially for anything horror related. I didn’t want people to judge me for being scared of fake things, so I numbed my fears with weed and alcohol. One of my tour guide coworkers called me out in front of everyone “Are you fucking high!?! You haven’t said anything all night and you’re supposed to be giving a tour!” 

In my defense I had to take something to help with the pain from my injury. At least I wasn’t coked out of my fucking mind like some of the other tour guides and scare-actors.

Most nights I got paired up with rappers, who secretly smoked me out, before I led them through the haunted mazes. They were used to being mobbed and frightened by people. Their desperate super fans scared me way more than the monsters.

One of the theme park employees told us to make our guests put out their joint. In response I said “Just act cool and let it slide, it’s Chris Brown.” The theme park maze op went into full fangirl narc mode. He loudly squawked over the walkie talkies “THE TOUR GUIDE SAID TO LET HIM SMOKE CAUSE HE’S CHRIS BROWN.” Tourists overheard and came chasing after us. We got trapped in a swarm of teenage girls. They all kept squealing “REVENGE FOR RIHANNA!!!” while trampling us. I’m team Riri too. I was just doing my fucking job. Plus I wanted him to smoke me out, which never happened.

A few of my coworkers had to ask their guests to stop smoking cigarettes on the backlot. In response that group cackled then blew smoke into all the tour guides faces. At the time none of us knew who they were, but we later found out that they were the lead cast members from the show Vampire Diaries. 

Famous people can be such entitled dicks sometimes, because they’re used to special treatment. Laws and rules are easily bent by wealthy celebrities.  

Watching the scare-actors audition for roles without their costumes was hilarious. It was just a bunch of creepy people snarling and limping around like zombies. Some of them were relatively normal people, just doing their jobs, but a few of them were a little too into the gore. We could always tell which ones waited all year to act out like their morbid criminal alter egos. 

At one point I had a crush on a guy who played a murderer. His victim was a mannequin that looked way too much like me. We went out a few times, but I never went home with him, because I feared he might stab me then throw me in the trunk of his car. I just couldn’t get over the fact that he looked and acted like a psychotic killer. 

The murderers were way hotter than the other Universal Studios characters. FUCK, MARRY, KILL: Spongebob, Norman Bates, Shrek

Horror related things became more tolerable the more I was around them. My roommate Alex was a special effects makeup artist who turned me into all sorts of goblin, witch, and alien-like creatures. Our fridge was usually filled with artificial blood, ears, or eyeballs. She helped me realize that the gore was all fake and just another form of art for the sake of entertainment. 

Since Alex worked on movies she was gone for weeks or months at a time. She let me live at her place while I figured things out, which took me a full year. The crotchety old Jewish woman who lived below us fucking hated me. She banged a broomstick on her ceiling every time I had sex, in hopes of making me shut the fuck up. 

Alex was a makeup artist on E! News for years. Back in the good old days when my favorite shows were The Girls Next Door and Kourtney and Khloe Take Miami. Alex later got into special effect monster makeup and starred in a reality tv makeup competition show called Face Off. 

Around that time I fantasized about being an E! News Red Carpet Reporter. I got a taste of that life while working there for Ho. All the E! News hosts were so shockingly skinny in real life. I was the only person there who ate lunch. Sometimes people at E! would ask me if I wanted to split a side salad. No. I’d rather have my own normal full sized salad. Diets, heels, and spray tans felt mandatory. I never fit into that world, even though I wanted to be a part of it so badly. I felt the same way at The Hills finale at The Roosevelt Hotel. Everybody on the show was so tiny and skinny compared to how they looked on screens. I couldn’t help but feel like a self conscious ogre towering over every famous celebrity. FEE! FI! FO! FUM!

Ho interviewed most of The Hills cast members when I worked for him. I thought Kristin was such a bitch on the show, but so friendly in real life. She ran up to Ho and flung her arms and legs around him. It looked so romantic and unprofessional. I wondered if they had a secret little fling. Spencer Pratt was my favorite cast member by far. He had such amazing vibes and energy. Maybe the crystals were working! 

Sometimes my friend Alex did Bill Maher’s makeup. I would tag along to watch the show, meet celebrities, and eat some free food. One time I saw Jane Lynch crawling under the snack table to sneak some extra sodas. She whisper-asked me if I wanted to take any home. Another time I was sitting on Bill Maher’s makeup desk. When he came back from commercial break he yelled “SCRAM!!!” in my face and I bolted the fuck out of his office as fast as possible. He scared the fucking shit out of me. 

A lot of our friends worked on shows with celebrity coworkers or castmates. We kinda got used to being around famous people. I’ll never forget the time I met Ashton Kutcher on the set of Two and a Half Men. Even though he had lead roles that got him tons of money and fame he seemed super depressed. I’m pretty sure he had just gone through a big breakup with Demi Moore, so he was going through some heavy emotional shit at that time. He didn’t give a fuck about that acting job, he was ready to bounce, and go party at Buring Man. Ashton was super generous and welcoming though. He let me and my friends hang out in “Club Ashton,” his fancy gigantic motorhome party bus that was bigger than my entire apartment.  

One time Alex did an elaborate makeup on me at a makeup convention for a magazine photoshoot. I had prosthetic fake eyes with crystals shooting out of the sockets. My real eyes were taped shut underneath. I met some of my favorite celebrities while blind and in character. It was strange hearing their commentary about me, without being able to see them or fully respond. 

That’s actually how I met Jay aka “Laganja Estranja” the stoner marijuana drag queen from RuPaul’s Drag Race. Even though I was blinded in the crystal eye makeup we totally hit it off and exchanged social media handles. Alex ended up creating a similar makeup look on Jay for a photoshoot collaboration that we all did later on.  

It’s crazy how many hosting, modeling, dancing, and acting gigs I juggled simultaneously. The hustle and struggle were real. All of my favorite jobs involved my friend Jason. Something about him made me want to drunkenly dance on tables or get impulsive tattoos. Jason was always fun to be around. That’s probably why he became so successful! I’ve met so many interesting people through shitty jobs over the years. 

We hosted shows for Afterbuzz TV, a podcast outlet that never paid us. The owners, Kevin and Maria, solely profited from our faces and likeness. Most of the unpaid hosts shared a similar ambivalence towards that experience. In a way it was the practice we needed to get bigger opportunities later on, but the whole thing was still pretty sketchy and fucked up.

When Afterbuzz first started, the studios were built inside of an old shitty house in the valley. The neighbors noticed hosts and celebrities coming and going all the time. Several people reported them to the police for running a secretive business with hundreds of unpaid employees. They had no choice but to change their location and start fresh. Afterbuzz later rebranded as a hosting podcast school for educational purposes, but it went under shortly after that. 

Kevin and Maria always looked picture perfect, but they had reputations for scamming people and burning bridges. They seemed to ruthlessly crave attention and notoriety. Anything for an extra second of fame!

People knew that Afterbuzz was cheap and sketchy, but they were shocked to hear about my similar experiences at Chelsea Lately. Of course I could have left those places sooner, but for some shallow reason, I enjoyed being associated with famous people. 

It was my fault for agreeing to work without getting paid. Guess I thought those jobs made me look cool or impressive? I was letting my ego and other people’s perceptions control my life. It felt like they scammed me and took advantage of me, but I signed myself up for that shit. 

My friends thought that going from Chelsea Lately to Universal Studios was a major step backwards, but at least I was making some money. Both of those jobs were for the same parent company NBC, so I’m glad they finally started paying me. To be fair they didn’t know that I was working for them for free. 

I wonder if Kevin and Maria thought they were helping the Afterbuzz hosts. Most people have reasons to justify all their actions, even if they seem shitty or fucked up to others. I really loved Chelsea, Maggie, Kevin, and Maria, but I definitely grew bitter about my experiences working for them over the years. In hindsight, those job situations were super fucked up. 

When I first started hosting for Afterbuzz, I asked so many sexy celebrities to come on our podcasts for interviews. The whole thing was really just my weird way of hitting on hot rich people. 

Deleasa talked about his new music on Afterbuzz with me and my co-host Kelly. His sister married a Jonas Brother. They had such a fabulous family! During our interview I caught such a fat crush on him.  

We ended up going out on the town with Deleasa and his friends one night after he played a local gig. When I went to the bathroom Kelly swooped in and brought Deleasa home with her. 

The two of them didn’t even seem to click. I felt completely blindsided! Kelly seemed like another wannabe Maria. She was unrealistically perfect, skinny, and well dressed. Kelly came across as aggressively competitive. I couldn’t help but wonder if she even liked him or if she just wanted to win. 

I covered the premiere of Stranger Things for Afterbuzz. Most red carpet events give the reporters barely any space. All the hosts, photographers, and writers get piled on top of eachother. It’s a total fucking nightmare for anyone who needs personal space, but it makes the stars look more popular. 

I stood next to a professional gossiper from People Magazine on the carpet. When Winona walked by he loudly whispered “Ask her what she wants from Saks this season.” She overheard and stormed past us enraged. 

The entertainment industry weirdly suited me. Most gigs only lasted a few hours, so by the time I got sick of the job it was over. People judged me for acting like an egotistical fame whore, but whatever. That path looked way more fun than other career options, which seemed boring and tedious in comparison. 

Hosting reminded me of ballet. People make it look so effortlessly easy, but it takes an extreme amount of talent, knowledge, strength, and discipline to actually be good. 

Andy Cohen’s hosting skills have always impressed me. He hosts live shows and does those reunions, where he interviews like ten wasted narcissists at the same time. Andy’s next level style of interviewing stirs the pot, but he’s managed to remain likable, despite being a gossipy little bitch. What an icon!

One night Jason and I drank a bunch of tequila. We decided to visit a psychic around two in the morning with a group of our friends. The psychic seemed to know that we were coming, it looked like she was waiting for us. She told Jason that he was spiritually fucked up, probably because he made me take pictures of his reading, through the neon signs in the window. 

My experience was much more positive. The psychic told me that I was going to become a household name. Not from performing, but from sharing my thoughts, words, stories, and ideas. I’d make money from selling things online with pictures, words, and sayings on them. She envisioned my creations decorating people’s homes or bodies! Of course she also told me that my destiny would change if I told anyone about that reading. I had purple hair, red lipstick, and a bright pink kimono. She could tell that I wanted to be seen and heard just by looking at me. 

Bob was the funniest writer and director to come on Afterbuzz. We bonded during our interview and became immediate besties. Hanging out with Bob in real life felt like being in one of his episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. The two of us went out on the town a few times in his sexy convertible. Canter’s Jewish Deli became our goto spot for knish and martinis. He kept buying me cocktails while making me laugh. We talked about his iconic colleagues Larry David and Kurt Vonnegut while bonding over our love for cats and cocktails. 

Back in the day Bob and his friends worried they might have to take care of Larry David someday. They assumed he was an unemployable curmudgeon, but he ended up being more successful than all the rest of them! 

Bob idolized Kurt Vonnegut's books and filmed a documentary about his life. He followed him around with a camera for years and they became friends. After Kurt died it took a long time for Bob to put all the pieces together. So it goes. He had collected all sorts of art, notes, drawings, and interviews from Kurt over the course of time. Bob later released “Kurt Vonnegut: Unstuck in Time.” It was unlike any other documentary, because he was a part of it. Bob wasn’t just some random guy interviewing him, they became genuine friends from doing such a long project together. 

Vonnegut’s books made me wonder if I should be more creative with my storytelling, instead of being so fucking blunt. Maybe someday I’ll get to play around with time travel too. 

One night Bob gave me a fancy bottle of champagne for me to keep for the next time we hung out. I accidentally drank it immediately with my friends, so that never happened. 

Later on Bob wrote a script with me in mind. I was supposed to play the hot leading lady in “The Hollywood Hawaiian.” The story was about a Hawaiian Themed Hotel in Hollywood that held Jewish writers workshops back in the 1950’s. I was meant to play the front desk girl, but it never got picked up. 

Each episode of Curb ended with Larry doing something cringe, then it would flash to the credits: “Written & Directed by: BOB!” People thought it was so funny, they turned it into a meme. They would post embarrassing videos and edit them to end with the show’s soundtrack with Bob’s credits. There were meme accounts posing as him that had millions of followers. Some people even got tramp stamp tattoos of his name and credits. Watching friends go viral or turn into memes is such a fucking trip!

The Inebriated Truth was my genius show idea. I got my friends drunk as fuck and recorded them answering a series of questions. I asked them if they could get away with any crime, what would it be? Most of them said rape or robbery. Nobody wanted to hurt anybody. They just wanted to get rich or have sex with people who were out of their leagues. My editor never finished their end of the project, so the show was never released. Most of my friends were relieved it never aired, it probably would have gotten them canceled. Most shows became aggressively politically correct shortly after we finished filming the project. It seemed like a bad time to release something like that.  

Jason got a job as a director for a big outlet in New York City. He casted me to play the hungover girl in a skit for Cosmo. My job was to guzzle mimosas while binge eating vegan mexican food. It was the role I was born to play! I guess I’m a method actor. Jason directed me by chanting “CHUG!!! CHUG!!! CHUG!!!” in front of the celebrity cast. Our lives were so Vanderpump Rules coded back then.

I was really excited to meet Will Ferrell at a movie premiere. I spent all day glamming up to impress him. Maybe I went a little too overboard with the hair, makeup, heels, and outfit. I looked like I wanted to be an actress, not a reporter. When I asked Will for an interview he looked me up and down with a stank ass face and walked away from me. I couldn’t believe that he was so likable on screen, but such a fucking dick in person. Kevin Hart was next to him and they were both way too cool to talk to me. I immediately marched over to my Kia Rio and ripped the “MORE COWBELL” sticker off the bumper. Then I drove straight home to throw away my Spartan Cheerleader uniform. 

Will Ferrell’s rejection hurt so much. We both grew up in Orange County, so I wanted to ask him about his childhood! What was his favorite beach? Was he ever a mall rat? Does his mom still teach at the community college? How did he stay creatively inspired in boring beige Irvine?

Back in highschool my mom wanted me to join or start a club to be more involved, so I became the president and creator of the Saturday Night Live Club. There were only two of us members, just me and my friend Elena. We usually ate cake while watching SNL together. I loved Will Ferrell as a cast member, but enjoyed seeing Jimmy Fallon die laughing at him even more. 

Years later I was hungover at the beach laying around on a rock like a lizard. I was smoking a blunt with a burrito while taking pictures of the water when Will Ferrell walked right in front of me. 

I immediately put my camera down. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to shoot him. Will Ferrell came right up to me and started ranting. “ISN’T THE OCEAN BEAUTIFUL!? HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT!? IT’S MAGICAL!” It was refreshing to hear a Hollywood asshole give a fuck about nature. He was pretty mean to me back when I looked pretty, but super nice to me when I looked like shit. Maybe he wanted some of my blunt or burrito. 

I guess he managed to redeem himself. I’m a way better person in Laguna Beach compared to Hollywood too. When I talk about Hollywood I’m usually referring to the entertainment industry in LA, not the shit hole city. 

I was a production assistant for the SAG Awards for a few years. One time I was in charge of the green room for the Modern Family cast. I was excited to meet Sofia Vergara, because she was beautiful and hilarious on screen. She was absolutely drop dead gorgeous in real life, but not very friendly. I totally hit it off with Jesse Tyler Ferguson though! We both went to Retro Fit gym in WEHO. He was so kind and friendly every time I saw him around town. By the way, that gym got me into the best shape of my life! This isn’t an ad, I just wish it was one. 

For a few months I worked as a production assistant on the show So You Think You Can Dance. I lead the dancers to their interviews after getting kicked off the show or moved to the next round. It was my job to amp up their emotions for the camera. Having to make people feel worse after they failed was brutal. Especially since I knew some of the performers auditioning for that show. 

One of the dancers I grew up with made it pretty far in the competition. It gave him such a huge ego. When I told him I was working on the show he said “Oh yeah, you’re like one of those little people doing stuff behind the scenes right?” He thought he was so cool for being talent not production. I hope he enjoyed his little fifteen minutes. Break a leg bitch!   

When people get out of prison they are given a list of jobs they can apply for that don’t require background checks. Extra acting was at the top of that list. Let’s just say I met some interesting people through those types of gigs. 

I used to be an extra cheerleader actor on the show Glee. One day I noticed that another background girl got a bigger plot line than the rest of us on the squad. Her character wore a neck brace after we filmed a scene featuring us dropping her. She even got some pointless lines. When I asked her how she got the featured role, she told me that she sucked the director's dick. 

A lot of the lead actors from Glee died way too young under such strange circumstances. It shocked me to hear about Naya Rivera’s death. She drowned shortly after we worked together on things for Cosmo and Fox. 

I couldn’t believe how many cast members from Glee died in such abrupt tragic ways. No wonder Ryan Murphy’s work changed tones. Sometimes the horrors of life can be creatively inspiring. 

Another extra acting gig was looking for people to play overweight dumpy midwesterns. The plot took place in Indiana, but the show was filmed in LA. I was offended when I got the part, but took it anyway, because I was broke.

The show ended up being Parks and Recreation. It was strange watching all the famous actors talk, text, and eat in their natural habitat. When we filmed Leslie Knope’s wedding reception scenes a creepy old man kept grinding his dick up on me. He refused to give me space or fuck off. 

Sadly I’ve had way too many me too types of moments on sets, but that one was bad enough to get other people involved. I told my supervisor and they fired him for harassing me. The other extras ganged up on me, because he was a regular actor on that show, which was his only source of income. The directors saw me get groped then bullied, so they gave me way more screen time, near all the main characters.

One of the production assistants yelled at me for smoking weed in my car during our lunch break. She told me that Brad Pitt got fired from extra gigs for doing the same thing, as if that would stop me. I’m sure Brad recovered from that just fine. Getting fired from shitty jobs is a blessing in disguise.  

The best extra acting gigs were for the show How I Met Your Mother. They filmed their scenes super fast. I’d go to the studio, sit down at a fake bar or bagel shop, then go home five minutes later. Even if I worked for just a few minutes they would pay me for the full eight hours. Best job ever! 

Sometimes I’d see big famous actors do stupid little gigs around town. One time I was shopping at The Grove, barely anyone else was there, except for Neil Patrick Harris, who was unveiling a “BIG SURPRISE!” Since I was one of the only people around I stopped and watched his little performance. Guess it was a private show, just for me! He revealed a giant M&M statue that was hiding under a huge sheet. We both died lauging over how fucking stupid the whole thing was. His enthusiastic reaction was dripping in sarcasm. That gig was so shockingly dumb, it brought tears of joy to my eyes. At least I wasn’t the only one doing ridiculous jobs all over LA.  

The backlot held auditions for an actors showcase, which was an opportunity to get discovered by an agent or manager. Every tour guide that wanted to try out had to team up with a coworker to perform a breakup scene from a romcom. 

During the audition the casting directors asked me and my coworker to do our scene again, but make it a sex scene. My partner ended up getting into the showcase unlike me. Maybe I sucked at having fake sex.

It’s kinda crazy that I dry humped my sexy coworker in those ugly ass tour guide uniforms on the floor of a conference room with our bosses watching from behind a table. It wasn’t my hottest performance, but the whole thing was awkward as fuck. 

When I told the guy I was dating about the audition, he got jealous that I kissed and fake fucked someone else. I didn’t think it was a big deal at all. Long story short, we got into a huge fight, and broke up. He was worried I might leave him for the hot buff actor dude, which is fair, because I totally hooked up with him after we split. I kinda felt like I had to redeem myself sexually, after that flop of an audition. 

People would ask me out and then get mad at me for doing my job. Those fuckers knew what I did before dating me. It’s like they all expected me to dump my career for them. My longest relationship was mostly long distance. It’s crazy how many years I spent dating someone who wasn’t even around. He worried that I might cheat on him with a model, actor, or dancer. After we split I found out that we was fucking other girls the entire time. 

Part of me was kinda relieved that I didn’t get into the backlot showcase. It was super sexual, but not in a hot way. There was no need to fake orgasm on stage with my coworkers just in hopes of impressing some strangers in a crappy old theater. Despite being rejected by the casting directors, I helped out at the event for some extra money. After the show an agent approached me while I was cleaning up the venue. He said that watching me fold tables was hotter than the sex show. I was the only person who got representation and I wasn’t even in the fucking show. 

The agent told me that I needed some fresh new looks, measurements, and pictures. He kept urging me to lose tons of weight, so I ate laxatives and ran around like a maniac. He would ask questions like “Do you want to be the hot leading lady of the fat funny best friend?” IDFK. Whatever pays more?

A lot of agent and model stories seem to have a similar plot. Hot young girl fucks old creepy dude who claims he’s going to help her make it big. At one point my agent convinced me to drive down to his house in San Diego and pay him hundreds of dollars to take pictures of me. His photography was great, but that’s not the right way to start out with a new agent. I ended up spending more money on him than what I ended up making with him! 

He was extremely flirtatious and loved sharing stories about his hot model hookups. I never put out, but I let him take me out a few times. Guess I was in it for the food, even though he judged me for eating it. He always asked me to act calmer, sexier, and more seductive. My hyper bubbly personality was quite the boner killer for him. He preferred when I acted soft, quiet, and sensual. He told me to wear tight clothing to show off my curves. He taught me how to breathe in through my nose and out of my mouth slowly, to get that perfect sexy model pout. 

Even though that agent totally sucked, he helped me embrace a whole new level of confidence and sensuality. I didn’t book shit through him, but his little tips and tricks helped me get tons of roles and attention. Submitting myself to projects was usually more promising than trusting other people with my career. At least he motivated me to get into better shape. 

One night I went to the Playboy Mansion to cover a red carpet event before a big party. That’s where I met Shaq, a true real life gentle giant. I was tired of being fat shamed by my agent, so it was nice to be around someone who made me feel dainty. 

I wanted to go into the Playboy Mansion even though I wasn’t formally invited to the party. My cameraman and I hid our press passes, linked arms, and walked right in. I saw a Playboy Bunny in full costume and yelled at her “OH MY GOD!!! YOU LOOK FUCKING AMAZING!!! LET’S TAKE PICS!!!” As if I knew her. We just acted like we were supposed to be there and it worked. Later that night I added my name to the official Playboy Mansion Party Invite List, so I got invited to all of their future events.  

Hugh Hefner totally gave off Gatsby vibes. He watched over the parties from his balcony, while chillin in his robe and slippers with a cigar. I loved learning about how he started Playboy. Hef was such a legendary inspiring character. His iconic brand celebrated sex, art, politics, and culture. He was truly avant garde and revolutionary! He put Marilyn Monroe on the first cover of Playboy and now they are buried next to each other. I’ve always been a huge fan of those sexy talented superstars.

I saw Snoop Dog smoking a blunt with some famous people at a Playboy Party. I had no idea who they were, but he was so starstruck! They were probably famous athletes or something. I walked up and said “MMM THAT SMELLS GOOD!” and he handed me the blunt. I was kinda excluded from the conversation, but I was in on that fat blunt rotation, which was good enough for me! Smoking weed with Snoop Dog at the Playboy Mansion was the most iconic moment of my life, but it was probably pretty forgettable to him.  

The mansion was only renovated and updated in the areas that were on camera. The rest of it was kinda old and dingy with seventies shag carpet. There was a side house with a bunch of pinball machines and a spinny circle bed with mirrored walls and ceilings. My friend and I started hooking up on the Austin Powers circle bed, but we were quickly interrupted and kicked out. It was supposed to be a WHEN IN ROME kinda moment. Having sex at the Playboy Mansion would have been legendary! We ended up going back to my place, which didn’t really have the same appeal. 

Playboy parties always had the best food, but no one ate it except for me. Most of the girls starved themselves and refused to eat just to look skinny. Whatever, their loss, more for me! I was there for the food, so I made sure to get super baked before each party. 

I actually got another job at Universal Studios, working as a Marilyn Monroe impersonator. There were thirteen of us playing the same role. They ranked us based on looks, size, and acting abilities. Naturally the character dressing rooms were filled with drama and gossip. It was so funny watching a bunch of Marilyn Monore clones talk shit about each other. The hardest part of that job was having to speak in a slow sexy baby voice while getting groaped by drunk tourists. So many wasted old men tried honking my padded titties. 

Sometimes we had to stand over fans that blew up our skirts. It felt pretty great during the summer heat waves in the valley. During a show one of the Marilyns started her period while doing the fan bit, which made the tourists scream. Luckily Universal Studios is known for their horror nights. Everyone thought it was funny, except the girl it happened to, who quit shortly after. 

Acting like Marilyn became a huge part of my life for years. She helped me embrace my sexuality and book modeling gigs. I had a hard time separating who I was playing from my real personality. My makeup, wardrobe, and home decor morphed into a pinup style. We wore wigs at work, but that didn’t stop me from chopping off my hair and pouring bleach all over my head. I acted like Marilyn all the time even when I was off the clock. 

My Marilyn Monroe inspired alter ego led me to romanticize toxic things like cigarettes, affairs, drugs, depression, and suicide. 

That’s show business baby! 

Marilyn Monroe died at age thirty six. I wondered if Universal Studios would fire me when or if I reached that age. I guess all the old ass Marilyns could switch over to Disney to play Cruella.

One of the other Marilyn Monroe impersonators hated my guts. I heard her talk mad shit about me in the dressing rooms multiple times. Most of those girls were try hard pick me prudes, which was weird considering who they were playing. I was the wild stoner Marilyn that chain smoked cigs and ate french fries in costume. The other girls were much more goody two shoes. I doubt they’ve ever touched drugs, or even worse, carbs! 

Everyone responded better to me acting like Marilyn. I knew that if I turned on that charming sexy seductive energy I would have better reactions from others. Whenever people told me that I looked like Marilyn I’d tell them that my last name is Kennedy and I don’t know my dad.  

One of my trans friends confronted me for hiding my true self in hopes of accommodating other people's expectations. She called me out for acting like different people based on who we were around. I felt embarrassed, but grateful she pointed out some of my toxic patterns. Ultimately her feedback was uplifting, even though it felt pretty brutal in the moment. 

She was able to recognize people living out of alignment more than others, because that’s how she operated for most of her life. Being authentic is such a huge flex in a world filled with people who fear judgment.  

What she said was true, but nothing new. Sometimes I’m too adaptable and get lost without even noticing. I grew up learning from strict piano teachers, severe ballet instructors, militant yogis, and stern catholic nuns. There was an undeniable pressure to be perfect and obedient. Over the years I acted like different versions of myself to make certain people comfortable. I loved playing different characters, even though the real me was somewhere deep down dying to get out. My chameleon style people pleasing tendencies took years to outgrow. I eventually learned that being creative is the best way to express myself.

All those childhood cotillions, bible studies, and manners classes ultimately backfired. Marilyn was way more sexy, adventurous, and fun than the past versions of myself. My newfound wardrobe and confidence made life more enjoyable. That kind of change was empowering. 

It felt like I was getting closer to being the real me, compared to the way I used to present myself in the past. At least I was losing myself in the right direction.

Fame, drugs, youth, and mortality were constantly on my mind. I came to work high every day and claimed to be a method actor. At times I thought I was losing my mind from repeating the same jokes, stories, and phrases so many times. 

I dyed my hair baby pink in a desperate attempt to separate myself from who I was playing. That work experience gave me mad respect for actors. Pretending to be someone else was fun, but it wasn’t great for my mental health. 

The summer was long and hot. Most of us performers desperately needed a break. It was time to get out of town, let loose, and go wild. Vegas Baby!

A big group of us went out to the desert to party on the strip. We ate a fuck ton of mushrooms, which was not our best idea, considering how much coke, weed, and booze we consumed. It’s like we had a death wish. 

The casino lights and carpet patterns looked like they choreographed epic dance routines for us. At one point I went to the bathroom and stared at the wall for way too long, because it looked like it was dripping black paint. I went in there to pee, but the toilet freaked me out, so I just stood there for hours. Later I found out it was less than a minute. I had no concept of time or reality. People looked like ancient swollen playdough balloon animals. We tried to act natural in front of strangers, but they freaked us out. Everyone looked wrinkly and bloated at the same time, which was not their best look. Walking through that circus themed casino was terrifying. Children running through the hallways looked like evil gremlin monsters chasing after us. 

One of our friends decided he was going to take whatever drug was offered to him. Some random guys approached us to sell us some “V.” None of us knew what that was, but my friend paid for it, and took it anyway. It ended up being Viagra. His raging boner deeply hurt and upset him. We got stuck in a crowd of girls wearing skimpy festival outfits, swimwear, and lingerie. One of them was wearing a sunflower on each boob and a tiny black thong. She turned around and yelled at him to stop poking her in the back! His rock hard dick was such an embarrassment to our whole group. He couldn’t find a way to hide or get rid of it. I thought it was fucking hilarious, but he felt so creepy and disgusted with himself. He disappeared in an attempt to take care of it, but the porta potties were too gross for him to successfully masterbate.

For some reason we thought it would be fun to sample some hot sauce on our journey. It was so spicy we had to sign a waiver before tasting it. One of my friends reacted by cussing everyone out. I busted into a candy shop and stuffed my face with ice cream. Another guy ran into a restaurant, collapsed on the floor, and started convulsing. Everyone else ran straight into traffic. 

The surrounding tourists were horrified by our behavior. That hot sauce was more intense than drugs. I’m surprised we didn’t shit ourselves. We’re lucky to be alive.

On our way back to the hotel we sat down at a bar to order more drinks. As if we weren’t fucked up enough already. A lady turned to us and said “HOLY SHIT. TMZ just reported that Robin Williams killed himself.” 

It was hard to hear about his suicide while tripping ballz.

Robin’s story resonated with me. We both loved comedy, but struggled with depression. Our lives were filled with fabulous people and adventures, but we both felt sad, despite the smiles on our faces. Depressed people don't always seem unhappy, some of them look like Robin Williams or Marilyn Monroe.

Most animals bear their teeth as a form of protection. It’s a survival instinct. I always had a huge fucking smile on my face to mask my issues. In a way I was programmed to act like things were fine, even though they never were.

I know this sounds bat shit crazy, but I think Robin Williams visited me from the other side that night. He urged me to go after my goals while I still had the time. 

The whole thing was trippy as fuck. I know that I was hallucinating, but I heard Robin Williams psychedelic cartoon ghost voices ringing through my head. He sounded like a wise old genie version of Euphegenia Doubtfire. 

Robin reminded me that we need to be ourselves and do what we love while we can. If you want something, go after it, despite what others might think. 

My friend said he was able to see his goofy spirit guides while tripping. His three silly angels were more shocked that he could see them than he was. It blew all of their minds. He said they were running around him while waving and yelling at each other like “OH MY GOD! HE CAN SEE US RIGHT NOW!” Then they all started nagging him “WE KEEP SENDING YOU SO MANY SIGNS AND MESSAGES, BUT YOU ALWAYS IGNORE THEM!!!” 

Mushrooms have the power to connect humans to the spiritual world. Plants have magical powers that can change our limited minds, bodies, and senses.

Did I really hear Robin Williams? Did my friend really see his spirit guides? Did we tap into another dimension? Did we communicate with the dead? 

Maybe it was just a bunch of crazy hallucinations. 

Maybe we let our imaginations get the best of us. 

The next day we were hungover as fuck. It seemed like we were gone for months, but it was just one crazy weekend. We kept talking about death, life, art, religion, spirituality, and so-called reality. 

I impulsively quit my job in an email on our drive back to LA. I didn’t care or worry about the fact that I was broke and had nothing else lined up. Robin’s suicide inspired me to reevalute my life and take action towards my dreams. 

For some reason I wanted to be an entertainment news reporter on tv and knew it was time to make it happen. I had so many interests. Interviewing a variety of creatives could give me inspiration or a little taste of their worlds. 

Even though that trip was fucking insane, the mushrooms gave us clarity, which helped us view our lives from new perspectives. I recognized which relationships, jobs, and hobbies held the most value. Psychedelics showed me what I needed to change and get rid of before the next chapter.

CHAPTER III: TASTE THE LIMELIGHT

After abruptly quitting my job during a psychedelic comedown, I came across a Craigslist post from an anonymous company. They were looking for chatty people who love comedy and pop culture. It sounded like a great fit for me, so I went ahead and applied. 

The company ended up being TMZ, one of the biggest entertainment news outlets. During my interview I gossiped about Vanderpump Rules and Real Housewives, which impressed them, so they offered me a job. 

So just to recap, I heard about Robin Williams death through a TMZ report while tripping on mushrooms. It inspired me to go after my goal of being on TV, so I applied to a random Craiglist job post for an unidentifiable company, which got me on the show TMZ. It felt weirdly full circle. What a fucking trip.

Since an early age I intuitively felt like I was supposed to be in the public eye. It was never necessarily a goal or desire to be straight up famous. Recognition can lead towards money, success, popularity, support, ego boosts, and opportunities…but there’s always a catch. 

Sacrificing safety and privacy is usually the cost of fame. It seems to leave most people feeling empty and broken. For some reason I still wanted to put myself out there, despite all my anxious introverted tendencies, and all the potential downsides. Something about that lifestyle looked exhilarating.

Passionate people inspire me to embark on all sorts of creative adventures. There are undeniable powers that come from confidence, talent, and having a platform. 

I loved being on TV. That sounds vain, but whatever. Part of me really enjoys high intensity things, because they make my anxieties feel more normal. 

If I’m on a rollercoaster or a stage it makes sense for me to be a little stressed, frightened, jittery, nauseous, excited, surprised, nervous, or overwhelmed. If I have bad anxiety while nothing is happening it feels wrong. 

Most people in my life don’t perceive me as shy or introverted, and maybe I’m not. I just felt that way next to other performers who were much more loud, bold, confident, outspoken, and extraverted.

TMZ broke all the big stories and the other outlets would copy them. I was shocked to see how credible and accurate they were. There was a fast paced sense of urgency and pressure to break stories before anyone else. TMZ on TV shared our personal opinions, which gave the show a unique edge.

I totally trust TMZ, but that’s about it. Most other outlets are total fucking bullshit. A lot of magazines, tabloids, blogs, and social media accounts are filled with ridiculous rumors. Celebrities have to deal with people lying about them all the time. If you believe everything you see or hear that’s on you! 

One time I heard a rumor going around about how Lizzo killed someone with her weight while crowd surfing. It was just a bullshit lie from some loser on the internet, but imagine reading something like that about yourself.

Another time I saw a picture of Paris Hilton in a white wife beater tank top that read “STOP BEING POOR.” She didn’t actually wear that, some asshole photoshopped that onto her fucking outfit. 

Working for TMZ changed my perspective on life, news, and the media. They hired me to work as tour guide and cast member on the show. We recorded in the mornings, went off to our other TMZ jobs, then watched the final edit air in the evenings. 

On the show a bunch of us sat around the office to chat about the latest entertainment news stories. They expected me to bring in some footage of celebrity sightings from my tours, but that rarely happened. It was awkward going up to famous people with a camera in the wild. I didn’t know how they might react. I never intended to be so invasive. 

It’s crazy how many people have kissed my ass or cussed me out because of my association with TMZ. Most days I came into the show with no footage, but the producers still gave me clips to work with. We took turns pitching stories based on our recordings, then everyone would chime in to add their own opinions. 

Some of our chats evolved into hilarious banter while others flopped. The editors turned our conversations into quick little bits. We never knew what parts of the show might make the final edit. Sometimes our conversations seemed funnier and more interesting in real life, other times the editors and voiceover artists really helped us out. The funniest shit people said was too inappropriate to air on TV. 

One time we talked about an actor overdosing then going to rehab. One of my coworkers said “It’s just coke. What’s the big deal?” We all died laughing, because it’s always snowing in Hollywood! 

The producers usually gave me footage to pitch that interested me. I tried to call dibs on all the Miley Cyrus and Justin Bieber stories. Most of my favorite stars weren’t discussed often. Nobody cared for my Flight of the Conchords references. I wanted to know what Chris Lilley and Noel Fielding were up to, but they were too far out of the Thirty Mile Zone.

The TMZ tours were on public streets, so we had to deal with traffic, fans, stars, cops, and crazies. If we spotted any famous people, it was my job to interview them for the show. I had no problem talking in front of tourists or cameras, but I felt so fucking awkward approaching random celebrities on the streets. Some encounters were iconic moments of my life, but I could tell they were pretty forgettable conversations to them. Passengers would often spot famous people and I wouldn’t know who they were. It was hard trying to interview someone I knew nothing about. When in doubt I would just ask them their opinion on whatever we talked about on the show. 

Some fame whores were dying to be seen. They would linger by the famous hot spots on the bus route, waiting for us to give them attention. If I didn’t feel like talking to people, I would pretend like there was no room to park or time due to traffic. They would get angry when I had the driver keep going, instead of pulling over to chat with them.

There were also tons of stars who hated TMZ. They bolted when they saw me on the bus. A few of them refused to talk to the tourists or cameras. Some of them cussed me out for drawing attention towards them. I think those people are fucking idiots. They just made themselves look bad. Why not embrace free publicity and use it to your advantage? They felt like TMZ was interfering with their personal lives and privacy, while we thought that we were helping their careers. Now I see both sides. I became fans of people I hated and hated people I used to love. 

Paris Hilton had the best footage. She was always so kind and patient with her fans. It looked like she genuinely enjoyed taking pictures with people. Her hot rich bitch persona was totally an act. She had a much deeper voice in real life. My coworkers told me that she had a chill down to earth stoner vibe in person, which kind of surprised me. 

I got to guest host some shows where we would talk about celebrities outfits and rate them for being fab or drab. I thought it was funny, but people gave me so much shit for judging other women. Whatever. Anyone with anything worth talking about is going to have people talking about them. 

Arts and entertainment should be discussed. Especially if it’s controversial enough to stir up a room. Could you imagine if Lady Gaga released a new album and nobody talked about it? No comment about Seth Rogen's latest film? No response after an Andy Cohen reunion? That would totally fucking suck!

Lala was my favorite cast member from Vanderpump Rules. She co-hosted TooFab with me one time. We judged designer red carpet looks while I wore an ugly ass outfit from fucking ROSS. I wince at the thought of my Goodwill shoes and unnecessary extra buttons. Lala fucking slayed. I loved her style, vibes, humor, and energy. I didn’t know if I wanted to be her or be with her.   

Back in the day I hosted a Vanderpump Rules After Show at Afterbuzz. I had interviewed most of the cast members except for Lisa Vanderpump. One day I went up to her at PUMP in West Hollywood. I introduced myself and asked her if she would be willing to do an interview with me someday. 

Lisa snarled back in her bitchy British accent “No. Giggy is signed with CAA. You can reach out to his agent. Maybe he’ll give you the time of day.” Then she handed me her dog’s agent’s business card. I grabbed it, while walking backwards in slow motion. It took me a few minutes to process our interaction. It wasn’t just cringe, it was mortifying.

Whenever my coworkers pitched stories about Lisa Vanderpump I’d interrupt and yell “Why the fuck are we talking about this bitch again!?! Can we talk about anyone else!?! We’re making the wrong people famous!” My opinion actually mattered. We stopped featuring her and moved on to better stories.

Sometimes when I went by SUR and PUMP on the TMZ Tour bus I’d see Lisa waiting outside for attention. I’d tell the drivers “Don’t stop! Just ignore her!” 

The other tour guides would interview her, but I would interrupt their pitches on the show. Lisa complained about how she did tons of TMZ interviews, but never got featured in the final edits. Lisa probably watched that show every fucking night in hopes of seeing herself get some free publicity, but she had to watch ME on TV instead!

Karma’s a bitch, just like Lisa Vanderpump!

I continued to watch The Real Housewives and Vanderpump Rules despite disliking Lisa in real life. It’s too bad we didn’t click. We both love animals, elaborate cocktails, and playing dress up!  

Vanderpump Rules is the greatest show of all time. Even though Lisa is a fucking bitch, it’s totally worth watching from season one. It deserves all the Emmys. Lisa’s character is totally irreverent on the show, minus it featuring her name and restaurants. You can fast forward through her boring scenes.

In Beverly Hills I often ran into Real Housewives. I talked to Kyle Richards all the time through her car windows. She was always so incredibly nice to me. I loved her whole family! When I told her that she was my favorite she said “Don’t say that too loud. Lisa Vanderpump might hear you!” Girl I want Lisa to fucking hear me. Fuck that bitch! I kinda loved watching their friendship breakup on the show. Team Kyle all the way! I want her to lez out already. 

Even though I watched tons of TV it was hard to remember all the famous people. Most of the time I wondered who the fuck we were talking about. 

Smoking weed before the show did not help. By the time I finally thought of something to say we were onto the next topic. Timing my comments was the hardest part. I couldn’t stop interrupting everyone. I wondered if I might be neurodivergent.

The people around me would get so excited to see celebrities. I knew we were meeting important people, but they didn’t make me feel any different. 

Like what’s the big deal? They're just people. Rich, popular people. 

Was I missing something? Or was I just fucking depressed? 

One of my coworkers asked me why I looked like a deer in the headlights. Her comments made me realize how apparent my anxiety issues were. The lights were too bright, the sounds were too loud, and there were too many fucking people everywhere! My lifestyle was such a sensory overload. It was screens in front of screens with some more fucking screens. I wondered if I was on the spectrum and on the verge of autistic burnout. Everyone handled the politics and stress of the entertainment industry better than me. 

I think that minimalism is a societal response to sensory overload. Most art and architecture got simplified post smartphones. Older things are usually a little more extra or over designed, because there was a greater demand for entertainment back in those times. Now people crave a moment of calming peaceful nothing. Humans need silence sometimes. 

TMZ hired people with big personalities who said and did whatever the fuck they wanted to. I’ve always appreciated people who do their own thing, so it was fun being surrounded by interesting authentic characters. 

Comedy has helped me through so many hard times. It didn’t take long for me to realize that most comedians are really depressed. If you can’t hold a “real job” because you’re an emo stoner alcoholic, try working in comedy! 

Laughter eases pain. 

People slept around the office, but it was pretty secretive, compared to the other places I worked. I discussed bikini bodies and sex tapes while averting eyecontact from the guy I was fucking on the show. It’s kinda crazy that we 

got paid to watch porn at work with our horny coworkers. 

One morning a bunch of people were gathered around an office computer. They were watching Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, and Pamela Anderson sex tapes while drinking coffee. Some of the guys kept making comments about their “lack of performance” because they weren’t acting like real porn stars. It made me uncomfortable, so I went outside to smoke, and take a break. 

I loved working with Harvey Levin. His humor, self discipline, and work ethic was next level inspiring! I was usually tired and bloated from binging Astro Burger after bottomless mimosas. Maybe if I ate blueberries with kombucha while working out with Arnold Schwarzenegger I’d be snatched and quick like him too.    

Harvey and I were both queer, but kinda secretive about it. Sometimes I’d make the gayest comments on the show and Harvey was the only person who would notice (or at least he was the only one who would call me out). 

TMZ helped me come out of my shell. My close friends knew that I was a bisexual stoner, but I was still pretty closeted around judgemental family members. For some reason I had no problem talking about women or weed on TV, even though I avoided those topics in real life, especially around my strict close minded family members.  

Sharing my thoughts and opinions at work inspired me to finally come out. My mom thought that I wanted to be bi, because it was kinda trendy. She gossiped about my sexuality being just another one of my desperate ploys for attention. Getting judged and cyber bullied by homophobic assholes was brutal. Becoming shameless enough to be myself was liberating. 

Authenticity provokes repressed people.  

I always knew that I was bisexual, but felt like I couldn’t label myself as bi without real experience. So I met a really rich famous couple on Tinder in the valley. They were looking for a unicorn which sounded like fun to me. 

Allison was the heir of a famous fashion line and Dan produced a bunch of sexy mainstream movies. We gossiped about both of them on TMZ all the time. I still can’t believe that I met them through Tinder. 

Allison was married to a woman for years before dating Dan. My car was so busted and I didn’t want either of them to know that I was poor, so I had my friend drop me off at their Toluca Lake mansion. They gave me tours of their wine cellars, weed collections, sports cars, and weapons. Since both of them liked women, they had threesomes with hot Playboy models pretty regularly. 

Before we hooked up they asked me my age. For some reason I jokingly said that I was sixteen, because I thought that was funny. Dan freaked out and told me to get the fuck out of their house. I laughed then showed them my ID and explained that I have a weird sense of humor, which calmed them back down. They were both kinda soft spoken and serious compared to me. We got wine wasted on their boat before having a threesome, which totally confirmed how fucking gay I am. 

After that I tried dating girls, but they all scared the shit out of me. Lesbians move fast. One girl introduced me to her mom on our first date. We went to The Abbey and her family just happened to be going to SUR and PUMP. The second time we hung out I met her friends, who said they were excited that she finally met the one. She was the last single person in their friend group. Everyone was so coupled up. That was some fucking Noah’s Ark shit! After that she ordered us the biggest blackest strapon I’ve ever seen. It terrified me. Girl scared me straight!

Dating in LA sucked. Everyone seemed way too into themselves to care about other people. One time my friend Emy came over to hang out at my place with our friends before a date. The guy she was going to meet up with  asked if he could see pictures of what her friends look like. Emy sent him a few photos and he responded by saying “My friends don’t want to cross the 405 for your friends.” Emy still planned on meeting up with him later, but he stood her up. He ghosted her, but at least nobody had to cross the fucking 405. 

For the longest time I had a crush on my friend Cryus. It felt like we were the only people in Hollywood that looked at the stars in the sky instead of the ones on the ground. We both seemed connected to the moon. He even liked cats! People who care about nature and animals are hot as fuck. Sadly he had a girlfriend. It was easy to ignore her existence when they were long distance, but after she moved to LA we stopped hanging out. I expected him to dump her, because she wasn’t hot, nice, or funny. Maybe she was secretly rich or good at sucking dick. IDFK.

One of my friends said she was straight, but liked playing around with girls, which sounded like fun to me. We hooked up with no future expectations. It was great in the moment, but it totally fucked up our friendship, and made things weird. 

I had a stupid little crush on one of my bosses at TMZ. He had a wife, but joked that she was just for the green card. His accent was kinda hot when he showered me with compliments. We spent most of our time gossiping while chain smoking cigarettes on the clock. 

Getting involved in stupid third party bullshit was a toxic pattern in my life. Guess it was my weird way of avoiding relationships all together. There was too much societal pressure to couple up. If I had a crush on someone who was taken, that could be a good alibi as to why I didn’t have a relationship. 

It was a great way to avoid getting hurt, rejected, or abandoned. You can’t lose something you never had. Honestly I think I romanticized third party bullshit after playing Marilyn. I don’t think either of us intended to be so destructive. Drugs, booze, and traumas can hinder people’s morals. 

When I hear about people cheating or being mistresses I usually sympathize with them. I recognize that their actions can be seen as wrong or immoral, but those types of people have usually endured extreme hardships that led them to do some fucked up shit. 

I never thought that Marilyn Mornoe was evil. She was an abandoned orphan who was sexually abused and taken advantage of throughout her short sad life. Drugs, trauma, anxiety, and depression dictated her actions.

My original love for celebrity gossip stemmed from having such a tight leash. Sexy wild slutty bad girls fascinated me. I continued to follow pop culture to keep up with my favorite artists. Many creatives have big dreams, but only a few of them actually go after them. 

Being around successful goal oriented people could motivate me to finally get my shit together. Tearing artists down was never my intention. 

So many people have asked me if I ever felt bad for talking shit about other people. To be honest, I didn’t really see myself that way. I thought I was the nice one on the show. It’s not like I was trying to talk mad shit about people, I was just explaining or commenting on whatever happened. Most people gossip about others, whether they’re paid to do so or not. 

Okay, maybe I was a professional gossiper, who totally talked mad shit, but whatever. Maybe I was just jealous, because I wanted what they had. 

It’s not like I was trying to destroy Judd Apatow. I want to be friends with him! Maybe someday we could smoke a joint and write a script together. He likes comedies and cats too! Creative collaboration was my motive, but I had the wrong approach. 

Who you know is how status is measured in LA.

When I introduced myself to Stassi from Vanderpump Rules she said “I know who you are. You’re that girl that called me a bitch on TV.” In my defense Stassi won the title “Villain of the Year” at an award show, so I wasn’t the only person to have that initial impression. I actually loved Stassi on the show and in person. I’m super inspired by her career path. Hopefully I didn’t hurt her feelings too much, because I’m a really big fan! I love how she's a preppy bubbly blonde bitch that’s obsessed with darkness, death, and murder. 

There’s nothing wrong with being a bitch. I’ve always loved bitches on TV like Andy Cohen, Joan Rivers, Chelsea Handler, and Stassi Schroeder. I want to be a bad bitch too!

Haters make stars. Every successful person has people talking about them. If they don’t have anything to say about you or your work, that’s a problem. Just because someone has an opinion that doesn’t mean you need to take it. 

I’ve watched enough reality tv and celebrity gossip shows to know that being a crazy fucking bitch can weirdly pay off. Do people make up lies, rumors, or theories about you? If so, that means you’re a star. Let them talk. Let them fucking talk!

My favorite reality shows feature people who create their own things. It’s exciting to watch their ideas unfold and see what obstacles get in their way. I’ve spent hours watching housewives turn into models, authors, popstars, actors, and business owners. Even when their goals flop, it’s exciting to see how they personally evolve and transform their entrepreneurial visions. 

Fame doesn’t necessarily require talent. A lot of Hollywood stars have back stories involving sex, politics, lawyers, bribes, money, agents, or technology. I grew up around artists that were way more gifted than most people on TV. Sadly they didn’t have the connections, confidence, or drive to “make it” to that level. 

I love seeing artists do their own thing. Dave Chappelle ditched Hollywood for Yellow Springs Ohio and Tyler Perry created his own film empire around Atlanta. I’m such a sucker for watching stars abandon LA or NY for random small towns. It’s a great reminder that we can be creative no matter where we live. 

Most people who make it big seem to have a really strong sense of self. They are firm about their values and purpose despite what others think. It’s all an act for some people, but they are professionally fake with financial incentive. 

Being on TV changed my relationships drastically. My day to day life wasn’t very different, but people altered their perspectives of me. Fame whores that never gave me the time of day, suddenly wanted to be my best friend. They thought that associating with me would lead towards notoriety. The people that I expected to be supportive never watched me on the show. My friends got jealous and weird, so they stopped opening up to me. They excluded me from all the tea, because they thought I would tell everyone about it on the show. It’s funny they thought their muggle lives were juicy enough for TMZ. Maybe they should have been more concerned about my journaling habits. Some people wanted to be friends with me while I worked on the show, but once I quit they had nothing to do with me. Acquaintances assumed I made bank and expected me to spend money on them. I was still a broke ass tour guide talking about show business, but my job was more publicly seen. Just because someone’s on camera that doesn't mean they’re rich. 

Tour guides and reporters need stories just as much as artists need publicity. People spend tons of money on publicists, when they could get free coverage from media outlets. Successful creatives use TMZ to their advantage. Some public figures would ask if they could do interviews with me to promote their latest work. Those were always the best interactions. They were excited to get coverage and I was stoked to have footage for the show. It’s smart to collaborate, help eachother out, and be on the same team. 

50 Cent was a guest host on TMZ one time when Harvey was out of town. When we cut to commercial break I yelled across the room “FIDDY!!! THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU YOU WERE FUCKING MY BOSS CHELSEA HANDLER!” The camera crew screamed back at me “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THAT WHEN WE WERE FILMING?!?” 50 ran up to me and gave me a huge hug. He said “I knew it! You keep looking at me like I’m supposed to know who you are!” 

As if HE would remember ME? I was his ex-situationships secret underaged illegal invisible intern years ago. I wasn’t even sure if Chelsea knew about my existence. One of my coworkers asked him “Would you rather host TMZ again or get shot again?” Fiddy joked that he’d rather take more bullets. 

I love Fiddy, but if I didn’t I wouldn’t admit it. He takes beef to the next level. 50 Cent's pettiness and trolling skills inspire me. It’s never too late to stand up for yourself or seek revenge! I actually really enjoyed my little vendetta against Lisa Vanderpump while working at TMZ. It made my job way more fun, plus I got to help some underrated underdogs get publicity.

Being on TV had its perks, like getting free food and drinks all over town. Most LA business owners knew the power of the media. If I were to name drop their bars and restaurants on tours or TV shows that could be great publicity for them. 

The Abbey was my go-to spot. I was friends with the owners and managers who always hooked me up. During my TMZ Tours I would stop by for a quick shot of tequila. I had a fucking blast living and partying in West Hollywood.

One time I saw Nick Jonas getting tacos on Sunset Boulevard while I was giving a tour. He hopped on the TMZ Tour bus and we gave him a ride. Nick told us some intense stalker stories. When he was doing a Jonas Brothers tour in South America girls kept sneaking into his cars, luggage, and hotel rooms. I couldn’t believe how many creepy people stalk celebrities. TMZ may seem invasive towards famous people, but trust me their fans and haters are much worse. 

TMZ is separate from the paparazzi. They have their own camera people in LA and New York, but they also buy pictures and footage from the paparazzi. People often reach out to TMZ in hopes of getting publicity. Celebrities hire publicists to help them get media attention. It’s all part of a big machine that makes people famous!

I staged a little publicity stunt with Chuy from Chelsea Lately just for fun. I told him to wait outside by The Saddle Ranch on Sunset Boulevard. When I drove by on the tour bus I acted surprised like “OH. MY. GOD. IS THAT CHUY BRAVO FROM CHELSEA LATELY?!? TMZ CELEBRITY SIGHTING!” When he got on the bus one of the drunk girls onboard gave him a lap dance. I filmed it and pitched it on the show the next day. He was so happy to be back on TV. 

Chuy asked me out on a movie date. I loved him as a friend, but I wasn’t interested in him romantically, so I told him that I was busy. Shortly after that he DIED. I felt SO BAD. Maybe I should’ve gone out with him anyway. He had such a great spirit and sense of humor. Rest In Peace Little Nugget.  

During one of my tours I made a stupid joke comment about The Church of Scientology. They had huge signs all over Hollywood, it was kinda hard not to mention them. My tour bus happened to be filled with Scientologists who were outraged. They told their church and the congregation confronted TMZ. My managers called me into the office for a very serious meeting. I thought I was going to get fired. 

They told me to respect their beliefs by never speaking about their “religion” again. Every time my bosses said “religion” they used air quotes. We made fun of everyone and everything on TMZ, but Scientologists were deemed off limits, because of me? I wish I could remember what I said on that tour. I’ve heard terrifying stories about people getting on The Church of Scientology’s bad side. I didn’t want to be another one of their enemies who mysteriously went missing.  

My roommate Betsy got jealous of the attention I was receiving. She told me that she wanted to cut off my face and wear it as a mask, so people would like her more. She sounded like a total fucking psychopath, so I told her to move back to bumfuck Alamaba. In response she threw a bunch of ceramic plates at me, but luckily she had a bad aim. After that I broke my lease and moved in with my best friend Kaia, who I lived and worked with for years. 

Kaia gave me a kitten as a present, because I was sad to say bye to Betsy’s cat. Giving people pets as gifts is not always the best idea. They require lots of love and care. It’s a big responsibility, but I’m so grateful for my kitty boy! Kaia thought it would be hilarious to give our black cat a black name. She’s a Star Wars nerd so she named him Lando, but she almost named him Denzel. My black friends think Lando’s name suits his looks and personality perfectly. For some reason white people get upset and offended by it. If I explain that my nerdy black friend named our cat, that makes things worse, and digs my grave deeper somehow.

I can’t believe how many people make racist or superstitious comments about my black cat. I love Lando more than everyone and everything. He’s my soulmate. My ride or die kitty baby! He’s been by my side through thick and thin. Lando has been the only real source of stability throughout my life. 

TMZ was surprisingly filled with nature and animal lovers. When my dog Freckles died my coworkers were more empathetic than everyone else. My boss Harvey was a vegan. He wanted to become a pescetarian to get extra protein, but he felt guilty for eating fish, because they’re too majestic.

My dog Freckles was my best friend and like a brother to me. He was hyper, goofy, and never did anything halfway. He had the world's biggest smile, it always looked like he was laughing. I could’ve had the worst day ever, but coming home to his happy face always made everything better. We danced, played dress up, and had elaborate photoshoots together in the wilderness. I’m an only child, so my pets have always been like family to me. Freckles had such a big impact on people. Whenever I run into childhood friends we reminisce about him. He was larger than life. Losing him destroyed me. 

Around that time my mom’s longterm boyfriend Clark legally adopted me. Shortly after that she dumped him and ran off with a stoner surfer dude that she met at yoga. I was left in the middle and had to explain what happened to everyone. All of my mom’s breakups were such emotional rollercoasters. 

Clark and his family continued to spoil me and include me even after that disastrous breakup. It was traumatizing, but now I’m glad it happened. They weren’t very compatible anyway.  

Partying was my way of coping with pain. Binge drinking and chain smoking while snorting West Hollywood up my nose was fun yet destructive. Traumas create addicts! 

Turns out that if you talk shit, watch shit, and consume shit, you’ll start to feel like shit. It took me a long time to learn that there are healthier ways to release pain and heal. 

In LA I often hit Hollywood breaking points. After a long day of cringe worthy auditions or filming I would pack up my car and bail. Alone time with nature calmed me down and helped me feel grounded. Big Sur was my usual goto spot. I’d drive up the winding coast with black coffee, the perfect playlist, and a pack of cigarettes. I always made sure to bring plenty of bomb weed and comfy clothes too. Walking around the beautiful rocks, plants, and waters healed me. I got do whatever the fuck I wanted to do, because I was all by myself. If you enjoy your own company you’ll never be lonely!

I accidentally ate a crazy strong edible one night before filming the show. It hit me at work the next morning and I malfunctioned on air. The producers yelled “DANICA IT’S YOUR TURN TO PITCH!” I was like “WHAT?” in a Seth Rogan stoner voice. Then Havey said “Oh my god I forgot that it’s 420.” It just happened to be my favorite holiday, which thankfully gave me a pass.

People kept making comments about my attitude and appearance on TV. They urged me to put more effort into my hair, makeup, and outfits. I simply didn’t have the neurotypical drive or energy to keep up the good work.

My family collapsed, my dog died, and my friends sucked. Plus I publicly came out of the closet which was traumatizing. It was hard to read all the hater troll comments about my personality and sexuality. I didn’t give a fuck about anything. I wanted to fucking die!

Harvey came up with the concept of TMZ while drinking margs and gossiping about celebrities with his friends. Those types of hangouts were always my favorite past times. I couldn't imagine life without margs and juicy hot goss! Harvey ended up going stone cold sober while I was working for him. His ability to handle the stress of his job and the news really impressed me. 

I got invited to speak at an arts event for kids alongside some reputable broadcasters. Sam Rubin, one of the best local news anchors, was alongside me at the event. Before we went on stage he came up and introduced himself. I couldn’t believe Sam Rubin knew who I was! My mom watched him on KTLA every morning throughout my childhood. Sam told me that Harvey stopped inviting him to his parties. I bitched that he didn’t invite me to any either! We heard that Harvey would throw big parties at his fabulous homes and wish all of his guests goodnight around eight while walking up the stairs to go to bed. It totally sounded like that one scene from The Sound of Music. So long, farewell, auf wiederseh'n, goodbye!

Sam Rubin had great stories and career advice for the kids at the event. My stoned ass told the children that any publicity is good publicity, before losing my train of thought. All the professional news hosts, reporters, and anchors disagreed. I wondered if Sam Rubin knew that I was baked. Maybe we should have thrown our own party. A little puff puff pass in the parking lot! 

A few TMZ stories wrecked me emotionally. When Lamar Odom overdosed at a brothel we had to call some prostitutes to get the full story. TMZ has a fun comedic energy which was pretty hard to hold while talking about tragedies. I didn’t want to joke about drugs or hookers that day, because he could have been dead by the time the show aired. There’s no need to act distasteful or disrespectful while somebody’s life is on the line. Plus I felt so bad for Khloe! 

Seeing her go through so much was heartbreaking. Khloe has always been beautiful and hilarious, but sadly you can see the traumas and insecurities brewing from within. Even wealthy famous people who seem to have it all go through devastating life changing events. 

But at least our hardships make us funnier. Some people think that dark humor is concerning, but they just haven’t been through enough shit to know how hilarious or healing it can be. 

I wanted to work on comedy shows to ease my pain. Those jobs were a strange mix of sadness and happiness. Some of the funniest people have darkest pasts. Like Bobby Lee! He was a total fucking meth head by age eleven. ELEVEN!!!

When I was growing up I loved watching Lindsay Lohan and Amanda Bynes movies. They’re both such talented actors! It was hard for me to watch fame and drugs destroy the people that I love. 

The story that really fucked me up was about Jim Carrey. His girlfriend overdosed and died. If that wasn’t bad enough, he got sued for it, because the drugs that killed her belonged to him. Watching my favorite artist get harassed, shamed, heartbroken, and exploited was rough. When we talked about it on the show I was speechless. It was exhausting having to urgently discuss people’s deaths on a comedic show. 

I saw Donald Trump while I was working for TMZ. He was campaigning while I was rooting for Bernie. America needs younger politicians that care about environmental issues!

The United States is controlled by unhinged geriatric senior citizens. All of our political candidate options looked like they might keel over and die at any fucking moment. 

Most American politicians were born rich and have never struggled. They don’t know what it’s like to be sad, cold, hungry, thirsty, desperate, fucked up, or mentally ill. The people who are in charge can’t relate to the citizens, because they’ve never faced adversity. They don’t know what the real problems are or how to fix them.

Even though I am not a Trump supporter, it was kinda exciting to see him. He’s the most famous person on earth, but don’t tell him I said that! 

My friend’s sexy hot model friend acted like she didn’t know who Trump was when she met him. She was like “Hi I’m Stephanie! What’s your name?” TO DONALD TRUMP. He was stumped. 

I’d speak up about environmental issues on TMZ, but my comments usually got edited out. I felt pretty morally conflicted about working for FOX during Trump’s first big campaign era. It wasn’t aligned with my morals or values. 

I went to Australia to visit my friend Aria around that time. Everyone there asked me about Donald Trump. Australians watch American politics in their bars and restaurants for entertainment. America was a joke and the rest of the world was laughing at us. They were excited to watch the downfall of the world’s popular main character. 

Australia was safe and clean compared to the US. That trip made me want to ditch the states for more international adventures. I should have worked on the show Summer Heights High! 

Oh by the way Australia had intense political drama back then too. The country kept flip flopping. They made gay marriage legal than illegal then legal again. Those cunts need to make up their fucking minds!

All that political stuff was super annoying, because I wanted a vacation away from that shit! I overdosed on Hollywood, news, politics, and social media. 

America became so divided. People stopped talking to people with different viewpoints. If I only talked to people who agree with me I’d probably never speak to anybody ever again.

Such extreme political divides create wars. If we could figure out ways to compromise and meet in the middle some major issues could be resolved. 

Religious extremists founded America a long time ago and the country is still operating on outdated rules and values that don’t fit our current world. Most of the laws and constitutions need a little makeover glow up. 

I want to create a publicity stunt that helps protect wildlife. Famous people watch shows like TMZ all the time, because they want to see what others are saying about them. If influential stars were to give nature and animals space to live and thrive, they could inspire others to do the same. 

Celebrities could document their conservation efforts through social media, documentaries, or reality tv shows. They could get donations and publicity through nonprofits and charity events. 

When Kim Kardashian went vegan she inspired hundreds of thousands of people to do the same. Influencers should influence people positively. Most of them unintentionally encourage others to be wasteful and destructive. 

Could you imagine “Kourtney & Kim Take The Amazon Rainforest.” Maybe Kendall Jenner could create a show about enjoying nature, animals, and tequila! It seems like she really wants to do her own thing anyway. I would totally watch “Khloe & Kylie’s Beach Cleanup Party.” Just spitballing ideas. I should call Kris Jenner!

Want to be a trendsetter? Why not create something that helps others? Let’s rewild ourselves and our planet. We need wildlife and biodiversity to survive!

I love the glitz and the glamor of Hollywood show business, but I hate how much animal cruelty it involves. Let’s figure out cruelty free alternatives for furs, feathers, suedes, and leathers. Can somebody please make a line of vegan dance shoes already? Kris Jenner?

I loved working on comedy shows, but it kinda felt like we weren’t allowed to make jokes anymore. It was such a sensitive time. My goal of becoming a TV host seemed pointless. It felt like that profession was generally dying off. 

People would rather see their favorite artists, comedians, or personalities host shows. Someone real, unique, and relatable. Flaws and all! It seemed like everyone was collectively over the fake shallow materialistic bullshit. No more scripted cyborg prostitute TV hosts. I’d rather watch a chaotic mess of an unhinged yet relatable human being on TikTok anyway.  

TMZ was unscripted and featured authentic people, which helped their shows survive. Most other shows, like E! News, had to completely change, diversify,  and adapt to the latest trends in order to maintain any sort of audience. 

The entire time I worked in entertainment news I suffered from creative fomo. I placed too many people on higher pedestals than I put myself. I was living like an extra character in the background of my own movie. I needed to become the main character of my own fucking life! 

Maybe I could model, dance, sing, write, and take fabulous pictures on a beach in the tropics too! At a certain point I realized that I needed to follow my creative impulses, instead of talking about other people and their work. 

I knew that my media knowledge would come in handy somehow someday, no matter where I went next.