Miley...we need to talk.

So I get this text from the girl I'm sponsoring (karma!) and it's this selfie:

Okay.

Okay.

Miley. I thought you were kidding when you sent me that snapchat of bleach. I thought your clothes were the biggest cry for help you could scream internally and project onto the masses. I thought that eating twenty-five pounds of chocolate couldn't make you feel anything but regret, but apparently it also makes you feel stoned, so there's a silver lining.

That being said, there is only one person who is allowed/can have/look fierce/be majestic/remind me of god/pull off this look:

Go home, Miley. Go home.

Love,

Patty

Miley, seriously, you need to stop.

OKAY, I thought we addressed this back at the VMA's but apparently Miley has better things to do than take good advice, like mine. Maybe that's why things went south with Liam? You know, because she refused to listen to me that night when she and I were sitting next to a dumpster trying to ditch the paps and made friends with a homeless guy named Joaquin Phoenix.

Perhaps if she had listened to me this wouldn't have happened:

 

I thought Joaquin and I had set her straight but I guess not.

Oh, Miley. Girl. Gurl. GUUUUUURL. You're like two steps away from Britney in 07.

Good luck, you're going to need it.

Love,

Patty

Hi September! I'm Old.

I hope your Labor Day was fun. Mine lost its shit quicker than Courtney Love because Heather Locklear got SUPER pissed about the whole Germany prank and she was sending me boxes of baby alligators all day-WHICH ARE NOT EASY TO GET RID OF THANK YOU HEATHER-but they are now headed to the Brooklyn Zoo so w/e. It was either that or Hermès but I've been in a humanitarian mood.

ANYWAYS. There is so much happening right now and I am just not sure what to do anymore. Boy bands are reuniting and I'm not down, Miley's butt is EVERYWHERE and I told it NO, Syria is FREAKING OUT, and all these little babies are going back to school and for the first time in years I'm not. I feel so old. What am I supposed to do about it? I want to cry and curl up in a ball but instead of showing you pictures of me crying in the corner I'm going to share some tips to get through all that crap:

Go on a date with no future.

This works best if you manage to find someone who is attractive but not devastating (like between a 6-8), that way you don't feel like you're slumming but also don't need to worry about the outcome. Hell, go home with them for all I care; a little ego boost never hurt anyone except a dictator.

Buy something.

Retail therapy. Like, do I need to say anything more? Turn off your computer right now and go to Barney's. Or at least hit up the warehouse, TOTES worth it.

Get plastic surgery.

Nothing says new beginnings like new cheekbones. I've never been under the knife but I'm not making any promises. Matching noses in 2014, mom! xx

Collect something.

Go on, get a hobby. I don't know, collect stamps or jail sentences or an addiction or something. It's your life.

Drink something.

This could very well go with the previous tip. Okay, I'm going to the Boom Boom Room for a G&T, I'll talk to you later.

p.s. bonus points if you do what I did last night and make friends with a bar full of Latina women and convince them you and your guy friend are getting married in 2015. Good times.

NEVER FORGET.


Love,
Patty

Stop it Miley. Stop it.

So I was planning to attend the VMAs Sunday night, but one of Rihanna's gays sent me this photo of Miley on the red carpet, and I automatically told my driver to turn around and head straight for the rooftop at the Jane because I needed to feel safe and secure.

I feel like it's watching me.

Anyways, I made friends with my vodka tonic and was feeling much better, but then someone happened to be streaming the show on their ipad (I still don't know why there was an ipad at the Jane) and I saw this:

I ordered another vodka.

Then this happened:

And I ordered three tequila shots and wondered what was wrong with the world. Fortunately I don't think I was alone:

Lol Zayn.

But despite Miley doing her worst there was one thing about the VMAs that made me feel really okay in a way that nothing else but GOOP has in a long time: 

Look it's Jesus!

I have a new hairspiration. Sorry Kate.  

To celebrate my restored faith in humanity I automatically prank-called Heather Locklear pretending to be Angela Merkel. Heather is now on her way to Germany under the assumption that she is going to be attending a state dinner and giving a speech on starving children in Africa before half the world's diplomats. Ha. I had to get her back for sending me all those bees.

Have fun in Germany, Heather!

Love,

Patty

All images courtesy of Getty and Heather Locklear's choices.