hello i'm gail hailstorm, author of the book "you're dead, i'm rich"

this is a picture of various fingers, booze bottles and an ice cream cake that didn't survive because everyone was held up at one thing or another. that's infotainment for you.

been out every single night for the past 2 weeks until the wee hours of the morning (and when i say wee, i mean 5 in the am) and so this fabricator of nonsense has lost all ability to create proper sentences in a social setting. i'm serious dudes, this is some chronic shit. i sound like a complete dumbass when i talk to people now because i stop mid-sentence and say "what were we just talking about?"

i also can't remember what day it is, the names of various objects and people and...oh bloody shit, i forgot what i wanted to write.

can't really remember much (or write properly) so i'll do this in bullet points:

• had a birthday party for peebee where the cake turned into an overflowing volcano
• mucho mucho de-ra-ma over the past few days. resolved a couple but one bitch is going downnnn
• oh shit i forgot again
• oh yeah. went to actorlympics on wednesday. going again tonight.
• and can't wait for envy magazine to come out cause the photos i've seen are gorgeous. also been plastering ourselves with the envy mag stickers. yup, we've been envy'd.
  

and some idiotic drunken kid on a motorbike smashed into the side of our car last night (we weren't in it) but police reports had to be made. poor pops. the premium (is it called premium?) on our car insurance has increased over the last year.