Watch the "I'm from Rolling Stone" trailer here:



Gossip about me thus far:

From the Glitter and Gossip blogspot:

"Since the RS and Us Weekly offices are on the same floor, we got to witness all of this firsthand; although, the only time we walked past the cameras, an editor shot us in the butt with a rubber dart and we cursed really loudly – so you probably won’t be seeing us on the show.

We don’t actually know much about the interns, except that we once saw one of them actively wearing sunglasses indoors, which was all we needed to start rooting against her immediately."

Haha. Put ya stunna shades on! Put ya stunna shades on!


Fucking love it. If you don't understand the swagger, keep yo mouth shut! I ride for the Bay =)

Here's one that at LEAST is more carefully thought out:

Random thoughts on the new Rolling Stone reality series
posted by: Steve Hyden
December 15, 2006 - 5:23pm

1. When I was a kid, it was my dream to write for Rolling Stone, partly because I was obsessed with music and writing, and partly because I wasn’t aware of other music publications. (This was the Midwest in the early ’90s—we had indoor plumbing but no Internet.) So MTV’s new reality series I’m From Rolling Stone already has me hooked, even though it doesn’t premiere until Jan. 7. True, I haven’t read Rolling Stone since they put Jar Jar Binks on the cover, and most music fans seem to agree the mag lags a good six months behind the trends and lacks editorial teeth. (Music blog Idolator regularly tracks the number of three-star reviews in the music section with its “Everbody’s A Wenner” feature.) But no matter how sucky it gets, it’s still Rolling Stone, the original rock magazine, the big kahuna of the industry. It’s like Saturday Night Live for comics—now matter how shitty the last episode was, it’s still what made you want to do this.

2. That said, I doubt MTV’s core audience fantasizes about working for Rolling Stone, or cares about people who do. I can see the average 15-year-old wanting to work for Blender or Pitchfork, but penning a five-star review of the new Mick Jagger record probably isn’t a dream gig for the kids these days.

3. I’m also curious how MTV will shoehorn this into its usual reality show format. Landing a byline on a profile of The Roots can’t match getting drunk and slapping your psycho roommate when it comes to creating great TV. (Ah, the five-minute trailer includes a scene where one of the writers gets wasted at a party. Can a hot tub love scene be far behind?)

4. I have been a professional (read: paid) music writer for more than 10 years, and I have never met a peer as attractive as any of these folks. (True, I find any woman who has good taste in music incredibly sexy, but these people are imbued with sexiness independent of music taste.)


So true, so true. We are, pretty hot =)

The new motto for me is : GET OFF MY OWN NUTS.

DA TRUF IS OUT!


So ummm...if you haven't heard already, I'm kind of going to be famous. As much as I like to use the word "lightweight" and downplay the intensity of this looming event, this is HELLA NOT lightweight. I'm going to have two media EMPIRES backing me on this one: MTV and Rolling Stone.




I started writing this blog when I got back from New York because it was the buffer between supposed reality and the "real" world. The fact is, not so many people knew what happened to me when ran off to the Empire State and disappeared for almost three months. I didn't tell anybody because I'm highly superstitious, so I didn't want to jinx myself. When I finally did get the confirmation from Jann Wenner, himself, I had exactly 2 days to pack my shit and go. Somewhere in those two days I had a going-away party too. And everybody was there. Probably not to say goodbye, but to be on fucking MTV. Whatever. It's funny how people that didn't give two shits about me before suddenly lit up when I walked in the room.

I also don't know how this blog is going to affect my contract. I am binded by law not to talk about my experiences in the show and can seriously be sued for $2 million dollars if I give away any information. But what the fuck, this is MY blog and the reason I even made it on this show was because I've made a LIVING out of documenting my life's events.

So, because of legally binding reasons, I will keep the MTV/RS nut-jocking to a minumum. And I will show you the other side of this crazy fucking roller coaster ride. The real side, where I have to survive in this media halestorm of baby supernova-ism and still figure out how to pay rent.

Here are some guidelines to the real me, the one that is only defined by yours truly:

I would rather be rich than famous, trust that.

Don't believe anything in the gossip blogs. This is like being the new girl in school again, people will look for any reason to talk.

I can't be bigheaded at this point. I'm still poor.

I came into this situation thinking about every angle critically.

I DO need your support. This is all very strange to me!

I promise to share as much of this experience into celebrity fabulousness with YOU! Because you keep me grounded. And you guys read my shit BEFORE it became a hit show.

Be ready for some ILL SHIT. I know what happened this season. You don't. It's gonna be a doozy!

Happy Birthday to ME!


Actually, it was December 1st. And things didn't go the way they were planned.

Didn't celebrate it at the HUF Party because there were waaaay too many boys down to rock my tiara harder than me.

And didn't make it into BARS because, obviously, the BAY gets something called "UBER HYPHY", which in the end, is bad for business.


But I did have a house party. Check it out!

Most clowninest song THIS YEAR!



Great Job Beyonce! Jay-Z reveals his softer side in "Lost Ones" by confiding that HIS biological clock is the one that's ticking, and you created yet another classic "kick him to the curb" mantra. Way to stick the stiletto in and twist!


"To the left, to the left
Everything you own/ In the box to the left"

Not since "Tyrone" have us women been able to suck our teeth, click our tongue, and shake our head so heartily. "Oh, you scrub ass nigga, you!"

Granted, I'm sure she's not talking about President Carter on this track, but nonethess, she continues to go for the jugular, all the while, flashing those pearly whites.

There is definitely a high dosage of hair-flippage. I believe the number is at 7. 8 at the most. Go 'head with that Hawaiian Silky!

Here are the video's highlights:

1. The nail filing. Sooo necessary.
2. Beyonce ain't laughin'! She is serious as hell. Get your male model ass out my Nottingham castle!
3. "Keep talking that mess, that's fine. Could you walk and talk at the same time?" Ouch! Love it!
4. The boudoir scene with the rollers and cute lingerie expresses so elequently "See this? Alllll thissss? Not yours anymore! Ha! Must be the dumbest muhfugga in the world!"
5. She straight jacked the nigga's hoodie and snatched his chain. Gangster....
6. "Can you get outta here faster? I got practice with my feminism support group, I mean, all-girl band."
7. "By the way, see how they all laughing? Yeah, they know."
8. Hand on the hip and neck-twist. Soooo necessary.
9. "Matter fact he'll be here in a minute, baby" Oooh. Yowza. Clow-nin!
10. "You must not know 'bout me! You must not know 'bout me!" But she doesn't scream it from the second floor while she's throwing all your draws in the yard, or while she's dousing your Range with petrol. She sings it, like, "For real. Is you Eric Benet crazy or something?"


Love Hater Award for Breakthrough Song.

And by the way, for all you "answer song" butthurt boys, this song doesn't pertain to all of you, just some.

Isn't that your justification for the blatantly repetitious and blanket use of the word "bitch"?

Just give us this one. You wouldn't leave Beyonce, would you? Hova?