Our great friend and one of our re-occurring models, Brenda King, has recently launched a new blog site with stories of her life and youth.
Beautiful and awkwardly hilarious, you just cannot stop reading.
Brenda is a writer and actress in Hollywood. Read some excerpts and visit her site for a refreshing reminder of how we always carry our adolescence with us. Wherever we go.
FROM "BARBIE, PLEASE?"
Kim and I were talking the other night and confessed to each other that we could still play Barbies. At least, we’re pretty sure we’d still find it to be awesome. She went as far as to admit that she searched ebay until she realized, “What’s wrong with me? What am I gonna do with a bunch of naked Barbies?!”
However, we sat in her driveway staring at each other, wondering if this is something we should move ahead with. I resolved that we would actually, really play dolls well together and that fact would make us giant freaks.
FROM "LEONARDO DICAPRIO THINKS YOUR PRETTY"
"The bouncer smiled sympathetically at my pathetic misery and opened the door. I thanked him through gritted teeth when my eyes landed first on my love receiving a flirty butt-bump from another gorgeous model, both smiling ear to ear. I knew her affections rested solely on a band member, but I still felt an envy stronger than I ever have before, accompanied by a new hopelessness courtesy of her enticing beauty. My mouth became dry and I forced back any sign of tears as I pulled the dumbest line from the worst of soap operas, “Remember me? Your girlfriend?”…
FROM "BERTHA DIED LAST NIGHT"
"With my sincere appreciation for beauty, Drew proudly showed pictures, at my request, of the lovelies he had dated. Doll after doll displayed on the screen and I giggled in awe until suddenly, a sparkling blonde, svelte, wide-eyed, giant-smiled girl appeared. I frowned, “You were with her?” She struck me as absolute aesthetic perfection. When Drew went on to describe her fortunate breeding and her keys to a brand new Bentley I found the envy I worked for years to shed off my being rearing its vile head. I asked her name and rejected it immediately. “Ew, she even has a pretty name! We’ll call her Bertha,” I pronounced and started crying. Drew begged what was wrong, as this is so out of my usual character, but I had no answer but that she was perfect (and that I was PMSing). I described her to my mom as “Me. Only way better.”
My mom did the only thing a good mom would do and attempted the cliché, “That is impossible; no one is better than you!” My mom’s voice was no comfort the first time “Bertha” got in touch with Drew. And the third and forth time. She requested his friendship, but I suspected she longed for more. I begged him to never see her again."
FROM "STICKS AND STONES WILL BREAK MY BONES"
On Wednesday, I darted around in my car late night with Tanya and Amy. Suddenly I had to break, which I did, and a ghetto angry chick pulled beside me, “Stoopid ass bitch!” We laughed together as she cursed me out for the entire red light, and I gave her a purposefully infuriating peace sign the whole time.
FROM "BITE YOUR TONGUE, HOLD YOUR BOOBS"
“I adore being naked and if only we were European thinkers in the US, but what about being a naked screen-saver for a masturbating teenager, blah, blah, blah?” However, one thing was for certain: “I would never be one of those hoes on Californication! Those chicks have zero respect for themselves and that script is not brilliant enough to justify that trash.”- And that is a quote.- In all the ironic brilliance God Himself could offer, fast-forward one measly week and my black heels were clumping into Showtime television, script in hand for “Daisy” the porn star, “nudity and simulated sex involved.” For what? Californication. How does that happen?
contact Brenda at firstname.lastname@example.org