DAHLINGS -
Before I plunge into the madness that is Awards Season and Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, I was sent a link to this video by Vice President Biden that touched me deeply.
YES, YOU CLOT, I AM CAPABLE OF BEING DEEPLY TOUCHED! SHUT UP AND KEEP TYPING! AND GET THAT SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, LEO!*
Ahem.
As I was saying, this is a message for LGBT youth that touched me deeply, so I simply had to put it up on my blog-thing.
Remember to be kind to others, as long as they're not my staff.
* Yes, I hired Leo back, but only because I've been going through assistants like a hot knife through creme fraiche.
Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog
Showing posts with label personal assistants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal assistants. Show all posts
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Monday, September 24, 2007
Such A Relief to Order People Around Again!
DAHLINGS -
Not to mention, shall we say, "arranging" to have my former assistant--well, what is the word I want? Silenced? Yes, I believe silenced is the safest choice.
After all, she did resign without notice during Fashion Week Spring 2008.
Now do not leap to conclusions--she's not dead, just a tad, well, shaken up.
My new assistant is easily intimidated, and that makes things so much smoother. And there are several new riders on the confidentiality agreement. My new maid is not only childless, but unmarried, so there should be nothing that prevents her from fulfilling my merest whim day or night.
GUADALUPE! GET IN HERE! I NEED A CUP OF CHAMOMILE TEA, AND I NEED IT NOW!
Ahem. What was I saying? Oh, dear, my assistant jumped a bit when I called to the maid.
It's all right, dear, I won't hurt you. If you behave. Just keep typing until I tell you to stop. And remember, don't get your face too close to Bucky's mouth. He's adorable, but those teeth are razor sharp and he has, as the television hosts say, "issues" about anyone but moi being too close to him.
Ah, I must tell you, my faithful readers, this is sheer bliss. I feel like Anna Wintour.
Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog
It's all right, dear, you can stop typing now. No, really, NOW. I mean NOW. STOP TYPING! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU, YOU IDIOT? DO I HAVE TO PULL YOUR HANDS OFF THE KEY--
Pardonnez moi once again for not having posted recently, but I had to hire a maid and a new personal assistant! Exhausting, I tell you. Checking mountains of references, having my detectives send the videos to my Blackberry, making sure all of the apartment Hide-A-Cams are in place--
Not to mention, shall we say, "arranging" to have my former assistant--well, what is the word I want? Silenced? Yes, I believe silenced is the safest choice.
After all, she did resign without notice during Fashion Week Spring 2008.
Now do not leap to conclusions--she's not dead, just a tad, well, shaken up.
My new assistant is easily intimidated, and that makes things so much smoother. And there are several new riders on the confidentiality agreement. My new maid is not only childless, but unmarried, so there should be nothing that prevents her from fulfilling my merest whim day or night.
GUADALUPE! GET IN HERE! I NEED A CUP OF CHAMOMILE TEA, AND I NEED IT NOW!
Ahem. What was I saying? Oh, dear, my assistant jumped a bit when I called to the maid.
It's all right, dear, I won't hurt you. If you behave. Just keep typing until I tell you to stop. And remember, don't get your face too close to Bucky's mouth. He's adorable, but those teeth are razor sharp and he has, as the television hosts say, "issues" about anyone but moi being too close to him.
Ah, I must tell you, my faithful readers, this is sheer bliss. I feel like Anna Wintour.
Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog
It's all right, dear, you can stop typing now. No, really, NOW. I mean NOW. STOP TYPING! WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU, YOU IDIOT? DO I HAVE TO PULL YOUR HANDS OFF THE KEY--
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