"SHE'S NOT WET!": 2011 Look Back At Sex.

2011 is almost nil. I wish I could say that I was sad, but I'm not. I will say that 2011 was a fuck of a lot easier than years previous. It started out a bit rocky, but between deciding to move to D.C. and all of the cool experiences that I've had, 2011 was not that shitty of a year! I have this feeling in my gut that 2012 is going to be the most amazing year that I've ever had. Every astrological forecast says so also. I'm turning 25, I know for sure who I am and what type of life I want, as well as the type of people I want in it. Thinking about 2011, I will say that things were extremely stale in the "Fucking for fun" department. I mean, I had some fun, but for the most part, it kind of lacked the frequency and extraordinariness that I had experienced the two years before. I'm well overdue for a mind-altering sexual experience. And it wasn't that there was a lack of beautiful men around me..god, were there some hot pieces..but I had no clue what I wanted from them! And when I'm unsure, I don't act. Did I just want to fuck them and never see them again? Did I want to date them? My sex life in 2011 was perplexing. The universe hit the snooze button, but I think that it was for the best. I'm not sure that I could have handled some weird fucked up sex/man drama AND moving to a new city. Raleigh had become a haunted house where the ghosts of past relationships, fuck buddies and unrequited loves roamed freely. Repeating that pattern would have ruined the "fresh start" that D.C. offered and I definitely needed to focus on life in a new city. I was just talking with Elizabeth about this FUCKED UP guy situation that happened at least a year and a half ago. Chopped and screwed. I'm not one for the melodramatic, so it's a rarity that ANYONE, let alone a guy, gets the best of me..but this one did. I can't get into the details, because that's where the devil is. And I don't even want to put my psyche through that again. Elizabeth and I were discussing how long it's been since I've had guy drama..She had to remind me. I'm so thankful for that, yet, 2012 better be the year of FUCK, because I am not getting any younger, I'm a stimulation junkie and it's been a long time since I've had an awesome sex story to recant.

Netflix, Incest And A Damn Good Instant Queue.

I rocked the fuck out of my Netflix tonight. I watched not one, but two fucked up ass movies. The first was called "The Girlfriend Experience", which starred ex-porn star Sasha Grey. It was pretty good, though I must say that Sasha Gray was pretty wooden in it (pun wasn't intended, but now it is). She plays a call girl..It's a pretty uneventful movie..Like some "day in  the life of" type o' shit. Nothing to run home about. The second one, however, was a whole heap of "what in the fuck" with a side of "will my psyche ever be clean again". It's called "Savage Grace" and stars Julianne Moore as the wife of an extremely wealthy scion of industry/trust funder. They have a son who is the most ginger-y ginger I've ever seen. If there were ever an example needed for why most people hate gingers, this guy would be it...That was mean. Okay, so the kid is a mama's boy, the father leaves the family for a hot Spanish chick (who played "Vera" in one of the most fucked up movies I've ever seen, "The Skin I'm In"). Long story short, the mom and son fuck. Yep, full on incest. Shortly after, the son kills her. I have no more words for this except, "my dreams are gonna fucking kill". So naturally, since I watched those movies, Netflix recommended a plethora of fare that match the whole "why am I watching this and what happened to me as a child that I can't stop" angle. Somehow, Katt Williams got lumped in with the movie about a man with down syndrome who's obsessed with porn, and no, it's not a mockumentary. I've got almost a whole bottle of wine, pita chips and a tin full of cookies that Sally sent me for the holidays, so it's definitely going to be an entertaining week.

Apple Store, Goddamn.

Today I finally triumphed over the Apple Store. After multiple trips to the store in Pentagon City Mall for a fucked up logic board, they finally agreed to just replace my computer. Now, this act was not achieved easily. I had to call Apple, curse out one of their asshole reps, hang up, flirt with another rep and talk about Sci-Fi and THEN they agreed to give me a new one. I was concerned that they would just give me some piece of shit computer that they refurbished or something, but they actually took one off the shelf, opened it in front of me and let me have it. This computer is so bitchin. It auto-corrects like an iPhone and is just all around baaad as fuck. I'm so down with this computer. It's insane how fast Apple updates their shit. My laptop wasn't even past it's warranty period and the "newer" version of it surpasses it ten-fold..Oh! Like an asshole, I didn't back anything up, so I'm starting fresh, which is fine, because the only thing that I had of importance was my fap-folder full of hot dudes' dicks called "Masto-Blasto!!", so I'm just going to start another one from scratch. I think that will be fun, having to look at dicks and go through them with a fine tooth comb. I don't know why, but I'm so fucking into dicks and dudes jerking off. It's insane. If I could, I would hold fake open auditions for a porn and require all would-be stars to jerk off in front of me as part of the audition process. Skeevy old man shit, I'm all over it. The graphics on this motherfucker are supposed to be stellar, so I'm looking forward to watching Netflix and Hulu soon. I haven't decided whether the anthropomorphic qualities of this computer are going to be female or male..Maybe tranny. It vibes hermaphrodite, or like a guy dressed like a girl. I'm gonna go with the latter. I'm renaming her Morgana Dead. In case I haven't explicated it enough in this blog post dedicated to the subject, I fucking love this computer and am thankful for the other one being a complete dick. For once in my life, I am going to get Apple Care.

"Dude, my computer experience is the equivalent to watching a hot dude with a huge dick jerk off while I'm drinking a chai latte and eating a beef chalupa supreme..It's like that."
-AVG, '11

Now I Got Worry.

• 
  

  5 minutes ago

  A V G

  • Is it weird that after I sleep with a guy, I scream "ewwww" in my head?!
• 
  

  5 minutes ago

  A Sav

  • Omg bahahahahahhaah
  • Why ewww
  • I just choked laughing
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  4 minutes ago

  A V G

  • I DON'T KNOW!!!! IT'S COMPULSIVE!!!!
• 
  

  4 minutes ago

  A Sav

  • Are you grossed out
  • Or no?
  • Cuz you enjoy the moment right
• 
  

  3 minutes ago

  A V G

  • Yeah, but afterwards, like if I just think about it randomly, or I see them on fb, I just scream "ewww"!!!
• 
  

  2 minutes ago

  A Sav

  • That's just funny A
• 
  

  2 minutes ago

  A V G

  • It just happened now, that's why I brought it up

DARON.

I had a great love once. It was true. But as always, most things must come to an end. His name was Daron. Daron Malakian. 

I was reading i-D mag today, and there was an article with the impossibly gorgeous Jessica Miller. Jessica's a model who happens to have dated Daron. Dated. In the magazine, Daron is listed as an ex, along with Brandon Boyd. As if her beauty alone wasn't enough to illicit hate from the less secure. Now, allow me to be a super-dooper fangirl here, but their breakup is massive news for my sixteen year old self. Daron and Jessica dated from '03 to '11. That's insane. I remember the uproar it's incipience caused on Daronmalakianrocks.com, the go-to for everything "Daron". So when I found out Daron and Jessica split, it took me back to my adolescence.

Daron is the guitarist and singer of SYSTEM OF A DOWN. Grammy winning, multi platinum selling artist and the object of my teenage desires. When System of a Down first came out, I was super freaked out by them. At that point, I was told that all things "metal" were demonic, so when I saw their video for the song "Sugar", it freaked me the fuck out, yet did not create quite the existential crisis that Tool's "Sober" did when I was 8. It took my freshman year of high school for me to truly get into them. I saw their video for "Chop Suey" for like the 18th time on MTV and decided to give them a try. WHY DID I DO THAT?! I fell hard. They were my NSYNC. I will say that I probably had a crush on every member of the band before I stuck to Daron. Daron resonated with me in a visceral way. It was something about him. He was a dandy guitar virtuoso. An androgynous tiny-man with the musical ability of a fucking GOD. I fell in love. To me, he was the most beautiful man that I'd ever seen. I plastered my wall with pictures of him and SOAD that I had taken from magazines and printed from the web during class. Everyone in my grade knew who the fuck Daron was. We became synonymous. "Daron" interchangeable with "Ashley". Right before the end of my freshman year, I scored tickets to KROCK's music festival at Jones Beach. All the biggest rock bands were there. I got a hot pink Clinique makeup bag autographed by most of them. SOAD killed that show. I had nosebleed-y seats, so I really relied on the jumbotrons to see their show, but it was still awesome. I left that show feeling unsatisfied, as though because I didn't get to meet Daron, the whole day was a bust. Looking back now, the only thing that I can think is, "I was 15. What was I REALLY going to do if I had met him?!". That summer was fucking rough. My grandmother fell ill and eventually passed away. SOAD without a doubt helped me keep my sanity in tact. Grandma being sick and dying meant that there would be an influx of fucking people around the house...I would retreat to my bedroom and blast SOAD. I had gotten a job as a camp counselor that summer so that I could buy a guitar. I was soo shitty that they eventually stopped having teens work there (that's what I do best..destroy shit), but my mom made me work for a guitar. I taught myself how to play it by playing Korn's first record, Sabbath, tape recordings of Eddie Trunk's metal show and of course SOAD. Daron's playing style had a direct effect upon mine. The fast picking and heavy melodic influence tinged with "middle eastern". Sophomore year, I became known as a guitarist and had a few bands with various friends. During fall, my family was adjusting without our matriarch and I was still heavy into SOAD and Daron. At that point, they released an album of extra material from their record "Toxicity". It was called "Steal This Album" and it was fucking awesome. In promotion of it, SOAD was going to visit the KROCK studio and there would be a chance to see SOAD play anywhere in the world as well as win a signed guitar...Uhmmm...???!!!!!! "AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!". This was around the time of Thanksgiving so I was already lulled into a peaceful state. In that peace, something happened to me. I knew that I would win that contest. I knew with every particle of my being and there was no deterring me. I meditated upon it, visualized it and pretended as though I had already won. By the way, this was all before my interest in The Law of Attraction and Esther Hicks, so that's how I know that those teachings are legit. So the day came for the contest. Serj Tankian (SOAD lead singer) was the only one that came, which made me a little merrrr, since I wanted to hear Daron's voice. I held onto the feeling/knowing that I had already won, so when they decided to deviate from their usual formula of accepting the 90-somethingth caller and decided to give the prize to the person that knew where the band played their first show, I knew it was a done deal. I was a MASSIVE SOAD-head, so I practically knew which hospitals they were born in. I called my mother at work and told her that she has to call the radio station and if she gets through, the answer is "at the Roxy in L.A.". I made her repeat it over and over until it became second nature. I hung up with her and began calling. Every person that got on the air guessed wrong. I had forgotten that my mother was calling also and just focused on trying to get through. Eventually, a woman did, and when they asked her the question, she said, "at the Roxy in L.A.!!". "Bitch!", I said..Everyone, including Serj, was shocked that she knew the answer. "How did you know that?!", asked the host. "My daughter Ashley Gray told me!!".  My mom had gotten through. MY MOM HAD FUCKING GOTTEN THROUGH!!!!! I screamed and ran outside in the middle of November with no shoes or coat and almost collapsed. I HAD FUCKING WON!!! The months following were surreal. I didn't care about school or anything else. Only going to see SOAD.

That year, they signed up to play the Reading and Leeds festivals in England. In fucking England. My best friend at the time Natalia, and I were no good to anyone while waiting for that concert. We had endless sleepovers where we would write fake interviews about Daron and I being in love and her and John Dolmayan (SOAD drummer) doing the same. Those were amazingly fun times set against the backdrop of Spring and Summer in New York. Those amazing Spring days and sticky Summer ones. Running all around New York like little shitty assholes, knowing that the defining moments of our adolescence was yet to come. The concert was in August (a week after the massive power outting on the east coast) and by that time, we were super ready for the show. My mother and I decided to pay a little extra money to leave earlier so that we could stay in London and explore. The flight was long as fuck and I was so jetlagged that when we took a tour on a double-decker bus, I fell asleep. I will say that I LOVED London. The men there were stupid beautiful and crazy friendly, and we went right when the war in Iraq happened, so it was surprising that we weren't met with any dissent. I would gladly move to London at the drop of a hat. Natalia met us at our hotel and we went walking around with my mom. We were extremely into signs at that time, so everywhere we went we saw signs of SOAD. When we went into a Subway sandwich shop, we saw a guy wearing the exact same shirt that John Dolmayan wore in a photoshoot. We went insane. "Crazy Americans.." is what I'm sure everyone thought, but we didn't give half of a fuck. We took a train to Reading, England, and a cab to the Renaissance hotel, where we were staying. Natalia and I decided to go out and explore Reading festival while my mom slept. We got out of the hotel and walked toward the festival. On the way, we passed a group of hot Indian guys that were selling beers outside of their convenient store. They stopped us and gave us two huge cans of Fosters. They were intrigued by us being Americans and gave us their numbers so that we could hang out with them after the show. We went into the venue and looked at all of the different landmarks that we had seen in the various videos from years past that we watched. We went into a tent that blasted dance music and reveled in the amazingness of what was going on. Two American teenagers in another country to see their favorite band. Shit you see in movies. We watched a little bit of the shows, but eventually started getting tired and decided to leave. On our way out, we ran into a few super sexy security guards. We talked to them for a bit and told them that we'd be back the next day and that they'd better remember us. Naturally, when we got back to the hotel, we couldn't sleep at all. We stayed up listening to music and imagining what was going to happen the next day. When we arrived at the venue again, we showed our passes to a security guard and he let us backstage. We couldn't believe it. Immediately we saw members from all sorts of bands. We hung out with Bert from the Used, Good Charlotte and I got hit really hard in the arm by Steve-O from Sum-41. Everyone who was anyone at the time was there. Jay-Z was even playing that day, though I only saw his entourage. We asked Bert if we could watch his band play from backstage and he said yes and to meet him at a certain time so that he could get us on the side stage. High off of elation, we decided to go out into the general crowd. We walked around in the dust and checked out different pop-up shops. When we tried to get backstage again, another security guard denied us.."What?! We were just back here...". They didn't care. Apparently, it was a mistake and we only had passes for the VIP area. Oh my GOD!! Did this mean that we wouldn't get to meet SOAD?! Did we go all the way to England for nothing?! We went into the VIP area to collect ourselves, chill out and create a plan B. Paris hilton passed by I us and Natalia screamed that she had a "money-stick" stuck up her ass. By the way, there was a heat wave that year in Europe, so it was fucking HOT. We were burning the fuck up, thirsty but not daunted. We spent hours trying to convince people to let us backstage. We were supposed to be back there! The security guards from the night before were soo sweet and tried to help us to the best of their abilities, but their hands were tied. We began to get heat exhaustion and started to feel defeated. We were prepared to throw in the towel and go back to our hotel room. We sat on the sidewalk outside of the venue and were close to tears. I didn't understand why we had gotten all the way there only for this to happen. Then, like a boxer down for the count and with the odds stacked against him, I got a burst of energy and a clarity that I had when I knew that I was going to win the contest in the first place, in the very last hour. I told Natalia that I had a feeling that we should try again. We should go back to the VIP area and try one last time. We had nothing to lose. We walked into VIP and standing around were a bunch of photographers. We went up to one and struck up a conversation. We told him our story and, straight out of a movie, he says, "well there's SOAD right there! Maybe you can talk to them!". The clouds parted, the angels sang and I realized that my adolescence was not in vain. I also realized that my intuition was the only thing in the natural world that could ever be my guide and never let me down. We went up to Shavo and told him our story. Nothing. We told Serj. "Oh, that sucks". WHAT?! Were we getting shutdown by the fucking band?!?! I ignored it and told myself that there were still two more members. John and Daron. John came out and we told him. "Don't worry. I'll fix it."

John left for a few minutes and then came back with Chad, the guy in charge of our concert shit. "Oh my god! Girls, I've been looking for you all day!". I wanted to collapse, but instead, went into my happy place. Chad told us to wait there and that when the show started, he'd come back and get us. When we got on the side of the stage, we were placed next to Lars fucking Ulrich. Now, Lars Ulrich is a known asshole and my bitch crown was given to me at a very early age, so as you can imagine, shit went down. Natalia asked Lars for an autograph and he begrudgingly obliged. The band came onstage one by one..."And there's Daron!". He sported a crazy beard that made him look like Charles Manson, a white button down shirt with a copy of the famous picture of a guy getting shot in the head on it and aviator glasses. My heart swelled. It was insane to think that by sheer want, I was in England watching SOAD and drooling over Daron. We screamed and yelled like little teeny-boppers. We headbanged and thrashed around. Natalia accidentally hit Lars Ulrich. "Sorry!", I said. "It's cool, but can you girls be a little bit quieter?". Why did he say that? "Uhmm, we're two teenage girls in another country watching our favorite band, so no, we can't 'be a little bit quieter'!".  He nodded in agreement and backed the fuck off. The show was amazing. Daron even sang this weird ass song that was "coincidently" timed with our arrival:

Teenage girls with remote controls, if I press rewind, will it make you all cry...

Teenage girls with remote controls if I press you all, will it make it all die...

Ohhhh, I love to watch them too...Ohhhh, I love to watch them too...

Teenage girls with remote controls, if I press rewind will it make you all cry...

Teenage girls with remote control, if I press rewind will it make you all die...

It's at the 1:54 min mark.

The show got more and more amazing and it felt as though it went on forever, which I loovveeddd. Eventually we sat down on the floor to get a clearer view. Natalia gave John a stuffed monkey (he collects them) and he hung it on his drum kit for everyone to see. The people around us started getting weirder and weirder. From crazy relatives and their girlfriends to strange roadies. Shit got really fucking real on that stage. At one point, Serj's cousin started smoking weed and asked us if we wanted some. Considering how odd he was acting, we declined. But all in all, magic happened on that stage. After the show, Natalia and I kind of wandered around and  got hit on by gross roadies. Back in the VIP area, there was catered food and SOAD's friends and family were grubbing down. We went back towards backstage and who walks by...Daarroonnnn (insert bursting hearts and stars). I was overcome with nerves. My anxiety got the best of me and I could do nothing but stand there, mouth agape. He went into an area with tables and chairs. Natalia tried to drag me over towards him, knowing that it was what had to be done, but I resisted. I couldn't do it. My raison d'etre was right fucking there! But I froze. Natalia talked to him and reported back that he was super nice. We hung out with another one of Serj's many cousins named Harry. He was super cool and invited us to come back with them to London on their bus, but I just kept thinking of my poor mother with all of our bags, and we declined. WE FUCKING DECLINED. We were staying in the same hotel as Good Charlotte, so when Joel Madden walked by us and saw me in a MADE sweatshirt (I had it because it was black, do not judge), the look on his face said, "oh my god, super-fans!! How did they find out we were here?!", but I was too distraught and didn't motion towards him, which put him at ease, I guess. The next day was again, out of a fucking movie. In fact, it was like the scene from "The Sweetest Thing" when Cameron Diaz's character realizes that she accidentally crashed her crush's wedding. I couldn't believe that I didn't man up and talk to Daron! I think aside from being extremely shy, I realized that I was sixteen fucking years old. SIX. TEEN. What the fuck does a sixteen year old do with someone who's pushing thirty? Sure, we were in England, and I believe the age of consent is around thirteen (I looked it up at the time), but really? I was a super-virgin, aside from fucking a girl, which, whatever...I won't go into that.  But an overwhelming sense of self-awareness clicked in my head. I was sixteen. Side note, I am so thankful that I am no longer a teenager. I'm at the age now where my opinions kinda matter and I am completely in charge of my own life. Today, that would never happen. I would never say, "oh my god! I can't! I'm too young!". I'm basically twenty-fucking-five. That's nothing to scoff at..

Walking to the train station so that we could catch our flight out of Heathrow, a dove landed directly in front of us. I took that as a sign that I would be okay. Oh, I forgot this part. I had a fucking nervous breakdown! Or whatever happens to depressed teenagers. I couldn't eat, I wanted to vomit and I didn't want to get on that airplane. I was in the most intense existential pain that I think I've ever been in, all because I didn't get to talk to Daron Malakian. My mom was freaking out. I stayed in my room for days. I was stuck on a loop of regret, confusion and helplessness. The only thing that saved me was the thought that I'd get the chance to redeem myself. 

So that's the story of how I came to love Daron Malakian. And although the flames aren't as bright, he'll always have a part of my sixteen year old heart. Sometimes I think that all of the guys that I've ever been deeply attracted to resembled him in some way. It would explain my love of Cancerians and slightly effeminate men. Maybe I'm "Chasing Amy"..."Chasing Daron".