Tanya: I found a boyfriend who cheated on me but touring is making up for all that crap. And you? :3

Tanya: Nice, we have to meet up sometime. ^^

I’ve been spending a lot of time reflecting on my past behavior in my new cashmere womb that I have suspended from my bedroom ceiling on the Duke. I’ve also been focusing on a color story for the kitchen, so there’s that.

Upon reflection, I’ve decided it would be best for me to share my knowledge on the one thing all of you need advice on: Anonymous sex. I don’t get to do this anymore because I’m happily engaged, so now you all get all my knowledge on it.

Don’t get me wrong, I totally condemn being a whore. But what is a whore, really?

A whole, my dear children, is just someone who isn’t very sneaky.

I’m just going to put this out there: Pretty much everyone who isn’t Bitchface McVirgin, or doesn’t suffer from a severe case of vitiligo, does slutty things.

And it’s fucking awesome. I don’t care what you are, or what your morals/parents say: Everyone enjoys a no strings attached make out sesh, and if it leads to penetration, then whatever.

Here’s the trick, though: You have to be a sneaky bitch about it. You can’t just flaunt your streetwalker tendencies. Because that’s gross.

Here are some guidelines/rules of when you need to be a whore. Study carefully!



Alright, so I think that pretty much coves it.

You can do this. Don’t fuck up.

You’re welcome,

Nichole

Edited by user 19 January 2013 09:08:11(UTC)  | Reason: Not specified

I’ve decided to start doing an ASK NICHOLE section of my blog because I hate all of you, and I think you all should become more like me so I can like you more. These questions are open to my fans, my friends, my family (I doubt my family will send me anything, but there it is. Come on, mom. Bring it.) Anyway, here was my first question, and I feel that I need to address it:

Hi Nichole,
So I starts smoking when I was 18. I loved it, the head rush and appetite suppressant. However, I had a mild cancer scare and have seldom touched cigarettes since. I need some sort of alternative.

Love your work.

W****

Dear Survivor,

A cancer scare is a really really really really really really really good reason to stop smoking, so good for you. I’ve said before that smoking is a total life gamble. Some of us need the threat of a painful death in order to make healthy life choices (you), and some us need a life growing inside of them (me). Anyways, I get your plight. Not smoking is the worst. But here are some things I do to ease the pain:



That’s all I got. Seriously, I thought I’d have way better advice than that, but when I stopped smoking, I stopped functioning for about two months. And then I felt great. But I’ll probably start smoking again the moment I become not-pregnant. Good luck with avoiding cigarettes, and don’t die on me.

You’re welcome.

Nichole

((OOC: This seems a little douchey, but if anybody wants to send in questions, you can! :) ))

Abie: I'm officially initiating myself on Nichole's stop smoking program! don't be hard on yourself Nichole, those tips are really helpfully. despite I think they easy our desire to smoke but it increases our death risks.. LOL I love reading this blog!

If by “settled your differences,” you mean, “passively ignore each other’s existence,” then yes, I would say that Suzie and I have settled our differences very well.

For those of you who don’t know, Miss. Suzie (who I have no problem saying is a brilliant performer and musician) and I met on Big Brother, where we seemed to immediately hate each other without hesitation. I forgot what started it. Something like, I called her a blonde, or something really fucking minor and stupid like that. Anyway, that pissed her off enough to 1.) lock me out of the Big Brother house and causing me to have to literally climb through a window like a cat burglar to get back in, 2.) call me a slut in front of everybody in the house and the entire television audience, and 3.) basically attempt to turn the entire house against me. Random story: I got farther in Big Brother than Suzie did, and I hadn’t even released my debut album yet. Awkward.

So, to answer the second part of your question: No. I don’t plan to communicate with Suzie at all in the future, and I’ll tell you why:

I understand that Suzie and I have very different crowds that we appeal to. I sing songs about having back alley abortions and abusive relationships, and I can honestly say that a good amount of my fans are college aged girls with daddy issues, or young men in art school. And anybody would be lying if they didn’t say that a good chunk of Suzie’s fans are probably high school aged girls who are following trends and looking for the next new fad. Suzie plays the role of the new fad very well, and by all means, go for it, Suze. Nobody is stopping you. Obviously you’re doing something right if you’ve gotten this far.

My problem with Suzie is that her whole career, her whole persona, if you will, is based on one fact: Tits are better than wits. Thousands, nay, millions of teenage girls are listening to Suzie and thinking that to be accepted, they have to be the fake titted, bleach blonde haired (or apparently she dyed her hair recently, I don’t fucking know or care), tanned goddess that is Suzie Stockholm.

When I was eleven years old, my dad let me watch Cabaret for the first time, and I immediately fell in love with Liza Minnelli. Both my parents are neurobiologists. I went to a private school my whole life. And I have always been the way I am now. As you can guess, I probably didn’t fit in much with the rest of the people I hung around with. So you can understand how shocked I was when I found out that Liza Minnelli, this woman that I saw so much of myself in, had won an Academy Award for her role in Cabaret. Liza Minnelli. Not Diana Ross. Not Maggie Smith. Not Cicely Tyson. Not Liv Ullmann. Liza Minnelli. With her dark hair, pale skin, tiny tits and all. She was dumpy and quirky, and she won. That was her skill, and she was good at it.

The days of the glamorous ingénue icons are dead, and young women need a new person to look up to. They need a new Liza Minnelli, a new Judy Garland, a new Barbra. No more Suzies. No more women who prefers lives with a shaman, and a Birkin, and a private juice counselor, and a bleached anus.

Look, if you’re reading this and you have a vagina, do me a favor and answer me these simple questions:

1. Does the word “woman” have a definition to you?

2.Forgot 2. I’m stoned.

You’re welcome.

Nichole

Edited by user 22 January 2013 10:17:06(UTC)  | Reason: Not specified

Nichole,

Kill yourself. Please. Do the race a favour.

E*****

British Person,

I’ve been doing music since high school, and have been waiting with bated breath for my first “kill yourself” email. Congratulations! You are the first person to send me one. Thank you so much for caring. You have no idea how much this means to me!

THANK YOU

Nichole

Is... Is this really a rumor that's going around? Oh my god. Oh my god, I can officially die happy. That is the most beautiful thing I've heard all day... And today was supposed to be my motherfucking wedding day.

If Serenity Scott and I weren't friends, I would probably try to encourage this rumor, but because we are and I love her to death, I guess I should set the record straight: No. I did not have a threesome with Erica Hess and Serenity Scott. If anybody thinks that I did, then you obviously do not know Serenity Scott very well.

I love Serenity to death because she's that little voice in my head that tells me not to do stupid things... Like have threesomes. Sure, most of the time I don't listen to her, but she keeps trying. And that's why I love her and need her.

Now Erica and I, however, have had relations. Several times. A few of them on TV (I direct you to Big Brother 4). But, if I remember correctly, Serenity actually left the Big Brother house because she was upset by all the sex going on. If that wasn't your first clue that Serenity is an angel with the pureness of a dove, then I don't know what to tell you.

You're welcome.

Nichole

Edited by user 26 January 2013 09:54:12(UTC)  | Reason: Not specified

Dear Probably Middle Aged Housewife,

Thank you! For those of you who don't know, I married my dream man, Sam Fischer, lead singer of Acts of Hate, a couple days ago. It was a brilliant wedding, and I'm so happy to be Nichole Fischer now.

As for your question: Yes. I would do reality TV again. Um, I'm pregnant. I'm not going to be going on tour or making new music any time soon. I'm at a point where even getting out of bed is an achievement. If I could do another reality TV show again, it would be awesome. I need to keep my name out there! People can't forget Nichole Fischer/Shade!

It's really sad when I see my husband locking himself in a studio for a week, and I just have to be like, "Okay! I'll be over here, throwing up! Cool! Bye!"

Pregnancy sucks. And so does this blog post.

You're welcome.

Nichole

Edited by user 29 January 2013 10:24:14(UTC)  | Reason: Not specified

We're so close to April 20th (about four months away) that I can almost smell the unwashed masses. April 20th, for those of you living under a rock/with your parents, is a day when children and old people alike celebrate their broing lives by smoking a shit load of pot. I may have trained my brain to avoid getting the munchies through a series of self-designed shock treatments involving butter, but the truth is: I'm no less of a pot head than everyone else. You all know this about me already. I feature a joint after a long day, or when I'm watching Dance Moms, or when I'm stretching. And on April 20th, I, too, will be joining in the ganja gala that is Four/Twenty.

I don't want you to think that I'm endorsing aimless and/or sloppy intoxication in the excess just because it's some stupid stoner holiday, so please allow me to introduce The Top 5 Chicest Things to Do While Stoned:

1. Swimming in the nude, whilst high as a blimp, on a hot afternood is not only a gift to your senses, but is also a great way to get a quick cardio set in on an otherwise lazy day.

2. You may not know this, but smoking pot triggers a few chemical reactions in your brain that make sunglasses look better on your face, no matter what kind of weird face you have. Try on a new pair of sunglasses while high at Barneys, and your world will be so rocked by the lense color that you'll end up thinking you look fabulous and buying them.

3. Spend the day finding gorgeous, locally grown, antibiotic-free produce. You'll be especially chatty with all the farmy boyfriends at the farmers markets around town, so wear a cute vintage tee. Come home with a day's gatherings and make the salad to end all salads. Take a ton of photos of the salad, put them on Instagram or whatever. Blend it up, freeze it, and stock your smoothie-fridge with smoothies for the next week.

4. Cry.

5. Get a few friends together to watch Season 1 of Friends in your home theatre. This will remind you what it's like to feel truly happy. Substitute greasy popcorn with home made wheat-germ puffs.

Happy smoking. Don't be stupid.

You're welcome.

Nichole