FREJA AND ARIZONA ARE FUCKING

You Don’t Fire Frejarizona, Frejarizona Fires You.

   “Today’s the day, my FrejyPop,” Arizona purred into Freja’s ear as they laid in bed, wrapped in each other.

   “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Freja asked, excited and scared in equal measure.

   “It’s  me, you and a camera. When is that ever a bad idea?” Arizona responded and then eyed the Nikon on the tripod at the end of the bed.

***

   Hand in hand, Freja and Arizona walked into the Céline offices.

   “Did you see that?” Freja asked as she held the door for Arizona.

   “You mean the frumpy lady with the stroller who had the same haircut I do?”Arizona asked.

   “No, that man in the car.”

   Arizona looked back to see a black BMW with a man whose hands were fiddling with something out of sight.

   “I think he’s a paparazzi,” Freja said.

   “No. Don’t worry, I think he’s just masturbating at us,” Arizona said and it relieved Freja. It must be nerves, Freja thought to herself. She didn’t want to let down Arizona. This was going to be an important campaign. They walked inside and immediately heard, “Girls, your here!”

   A Céline employee enthusiastically lead them back to a rack of the first looks Frejarizona would be wearing.

   “Accordion dresses?” Freja said, holding in a dry heave.

   “Yes! This is what you’ll be wearing!” the employee said and Arizona tried to smile at her, but she was looking past the lady to see if she could  find an exit so they could escape this nightmare.

   “Is this a joke?” Freja asked in disbelief.

   “No it’s our new budget line Céline by Celine Dion.”

   “This is illegal,” Arizona said, incredulous.

   “Where is Céline?” Freja asked.

   “Are you kidding?” the employee responded.

   Arizona grabbed on Freja’s arm and whispered, “Babe, Céline is dead. She was killed by the leader of her fan club.”

   “You’re thinking of Selena. The Hispanic singer,” Freja pointed out.

   “Oh, then she got shot on her doorstep.”

   “That was Versace,” Freja corrected Arizona.

   “I wish it was Celine Dion,” Arizona growled.

   “Just try the dresses on,” the Céline employee begged. Ever the professionals, Frejarizona complied.

   Looking at each other in the accordion moo moos, both women decided, “I need a cigarette.”

   Outside, Freja and Arizona puffed and paced.

  “How are we going to get out of this? Being the face of Céline by Celine Dion is like being the face of bowel cancer,” Freja ranted.

   “I’m going to think of something,” Arizona said to her love. This was the most serious, threatening moment of their entire relationship.

   They stamped out their cigarettes and Freja spotted the man from the BMW snapping away pictures. “It’s too late,” Freja said. “It’s never too late,” Arizona responded, then lead her soul mate back inside.

   “I have to go,” Arizona told the Céline employee. “You can’t,” the Céline lady declared.

   “I have to. I need medical attention. This dress gave me Accordionacitous.”

   “You just made that up,” the Céline woman responded.

   “I did not. Are you discriminating against my Accordionacitous? I’m going to sue you worse than my agents are going to sue that fake tumblr about Freja and me.”

   The Céline employee let Frejarizona go because a lawsuit of that scale would bring Céline by Céline Dion down like it was the Titanic.

   “You saved my life,” Freja said warmly to Arizona.

   “I’ll love you til the Accordionacitous takes me, my love,” Arizona responded.

***NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. THIS DIDN’T REALLY HAPPEN***

“NEW YEARS IN BED (Doing It)”

“Freja, guess what day it is!” Arizona yelled as she ran through the hallways of the decadent mansion she shared with Freja.

“Oh no,” Freja mumbled. She realized that today must be Anna Wintour’s birthday. Freja never knew what to get Anna and the present Freja gave last year (a Cosco size box of Swiffers so that Anna could dust of her unused vagina) did not go over well. Freja felt it was a practical gift with a personal touch, but maybe Anna’s skin is too sensitive for the extra strength bleach on the pads.

Arizona continued to run through the hallways of her dreamhouse and Freja would yell, “Arizona!” then listen as Arizona’s jank walk clopped down the marble floors. “Hotter” Freja yelled as the clippy clop got louder. “Hotter!” Freja yelled as Arizona walked closer. “Hotter!” Freja yelled again when she heard the loud, uneven steps.

“Hotter,” Freja whispered as Arizona appeared in the door frame. Freja was taken by Arizona’s long legs that peeked out the slit of her flowy skirt. After all these (months? years?) of dating, Freja still wanted to “do” Arizona a bunch.

Hotter.

After their romp on the bed, when the feathers from the pillows started to float down on then her, Arizona said, “Today is New Years Eve.”

“Do we have to buy Anna something for it?” Freja asked worried.

“No. Freja, you must know what New Years Eve is.”

” ‘Zona, I’ve from Denmark. Wait! Is New Years Eve the American version of Roskilde Invasion Eve?” Freja asked excited.

“Um. No. On American New Years, we drink champagne, then talk about how disappointing the night was. That’s New Years Eve. What is… Rosskill Invasion Time, or whatever.”

“Oh, it’s this holiday in Denmark when we celebrate the period of time when the vikings arrived and raped our women and pillaged our ships.”

“Freja! Why the fuck would you celebrate that?”

“All the vikings had really good bone structure,” Freja responded warmly and Arizona thought maybe, for 2012, it was time to celebrate a different holiday- one not about spending money or getting cramped in shitty Times Square with awful Secrest.

It was time for FrejArizona to bring in 2012 celebrating the things that really matter- good cheekbones.

**NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION**

    Arizona was getting very into her yoga and even though the lessons were Freja’s idea, some days, when Arizona slid on those skin tight pants, then Freja slid her out of them and then like ten minutes later Arizona slid back into them again, sometimes Freja seemed… well… jealous.
    At first Freja would “supervise” all of  the yoga lessons, but there are only so many times you can stare at someone’s ass in the downward facing dog before you start  to wonder, “Is there more to life than just oversexualizing low impact workouts?
    During dessert that night (strawberry shortcake) (they were all out of whip cream because of the night before) Arizona started to ask Freja if there are any hobbies she had ever considered.
    “I have my music” Freja said and Arizona quickly asked, “What else?” because she didn’t want to hear Freja sing Mandy Moore again.
     “Well, there is this one thing…” Freja said, uncharacteristically shy. Arizona was intrigued.
     “Wait here,” Freja said and then scampered away from the table as Arizona watched her go and made a noise that was like, “MMMMMyeahhh”
     Ten minutes later, Freja returned with a microphone and a notebook.
     “Are you going to read your poems?” Arizona asked.
     “No, this mic is hooked  up to the stereo and the neighbors asked us to stop saying, ‘savory juices’ loudly,” Freja reminded Arizona.
      “Whatcha gonna do, baby?” Arizona asked.

       “STANDUP COMEDY,” Freja said into he mic.

      “Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy,” Arizona said in her head.
       “Okay so, my first joke is,” Freja started out and Arizona was already like, Maybe it will start raining and this electrical equipment will kill us all. Is that a rain cloud in the sky? Maybe? Please.

       “-is,” Freja continued, “Everyone always comes up to me and is like ‘What do your tattoos mean?’ and I’m like, “I don’t know, what does your muffin top mean?’ ” Freja said and then laughs. Arizona tried to laugh, but she still had a little baby weight, even after the yoga. This was a sensitive topic.

      “Okay, the second joke,” Freja said with misplace confidence, “is, like, okay I miss Lee more than anyone, but how does that smelly bitch Lady Gaga make Mcqueen look like McDonalds?” Freja laughed at this joke, Arizona tried to giggle.

       The jokes continued, sadly, aimlessly- like a Tyra Banks photographed editorial.
       About five minutes in, Freja laid down and did an unfunny bit about people who don’t wear all black clothing.
     Arizona, grateful that there wasn’t a bit about “mom haircuts”, walked over to Freja and picked her up.

     After carrying her sad clown inside, Arizona said, “I have a joke for your act,” and Freja looked at her hopefully, “Tell it to me.”

    “Okay,” Arizona said, “The joke is… Saskia de Brauw for Chanel.”

   ***NOTE THIS IS FICTIONAL***

    “Dude, what the fuck is a Saskia de Brauw?” Freja asked staring at her ipod touch.

    “A super good coffee maker,” Arizona said as she messaged Freja’s back.

    “Karl replaced me with a coffee maker?”

    “Wait, I was saying coffee maker- the machine, not coffee maker- the hipster.”

    “It doesn’t fucking matter, ‘Zona the point is, Karl replaced me.”

    “Oh no,” Arizona gasped, “You have a really bad knot on your shoulder,” she said continuing her massage.

    “Don’t you get how important this is? I was dumped,” Freja growled, wanting to throw her ipod touch, but she hadn’t downloaded all the naked ‘zona pics off it yet so she handled it with care. “This is like if Jil Sander replaced you,” Freja said, to get Arizona to understand.

    “Didn’t they already?” Arizona asked.

    “Ugh. I’m googling this coffee maker, Saskia DeBrauw,” Freja said, prancing her delicate fingers across the ipod touch.

    The picture slowly came up.

    “It’s a fucking dude!” Freja exclaimed.

    “Who would trade a cutting edge lesbian for a dude?” Arizona asked, “Other than, like, Anne Heche, but look how that turned out for her.”

   “Wait. No. They might have just mislabeled an picture of young Jamie Lee Curtis.”

   “Like Terror Train era Jamie Lee Curtis?”

    “Seriously, Terror Train is what you associate young Jamie Lee Curtis with? Terror Train?” Freja asked. Outraged.

    “Frej, you need to calm down, I’m gonna go make you a cup of-” shit. Arizona stopped. She couldn’t say coffee, Freja was just replaced by a coffee maker that looked like Terror Train Era Jamie Lee Curtis, “-a warm cup of… apple… sauce?” Arizona said, struggling to finish her sentence.  

    “Aw, you always  know how to make me feel better,” Freja said, pulling Arizona’s hand over, then kissing it.

    They dined on cups of warm apple sauce and Freja thought, I might not have Chanel, but at least I have my desert queen.

***NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION***

                            TODAY IS FREJA’S BIRTHDAY.

                      EVERYONE WISH FREJA A HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

                 I hope she has an amazing day and she’s able to put the

                “Balmain Incident” out of her head on this fine, fine day.

~-~FLASHBACK TO: The Balmain Incident~-~

   It all started off as a normal Balmain show: sequins, some other shiney shit, and enough studs to cover jackets for at least two gangs of gay bikers.

   Freja, as per usual, was casually flirting with the girls, when a scream silenced the room.

    “Oh no did someone deflate Crystal Renn with one of those safety pins?” Freja asked, worried that Crystal Renn goo would get on the garments.

    “Maybe someone put on footage of Kayne’s collection from PFW!” Kasia said, afraid.

    “Save yourselves…get out while you can!” sobbed Karmen Pedaru, entering the room looking severely shaken.

    “Karmen, what’s wrong? Did someone remind you that you had cornrows in your last Vogue Paris Ed? Don’t worry, we don’t blame you for that,” Freja said reassuringly. 

    “No…Freja, it isn’t that…it’s..it’s her… with…”

    Freja looked confused. “Nicki Minaj? Oh man I hope they fuck around with Anna again and put them together.”

    Karmen points across the room, her face awash in pure dread.

    “Freja, darling!” echoed through the backstage area as a tall girl appeared, holding something.

    It was Arizona.

    Arizona had booked Balmain.

    “This is bullshit, why can’t I have just one thing for myself,” Freja growled.

    “You do,” Arizona said, “Me!”

    Freja smiled, she softened and they kissed and touched each others butts and it was like it never happened. If Arizona can forgive Freja for the time the evil Bruce Jenner puppet made her dial Abbey, Freja can forgive Arizona for booking Balmain.

   Well, she could until she saw what Karmen was freaking out about.

   This wasn’t about Arizona.

   This was about the cake that Arizona began to wheel out towards Freja, while she sang, “Happy Birthday To You!”

   The models looked on horrified.

   “Arizona, what the fuck is this?” Freja asked, stunned, but still looking for a fork because the cake looked good.

   “Happy birthday, Frejycakes!”  Arizona squealed.

   “Aw. Fer serious, this is cute and all, but my birthday isn’t til October 18th,” Freja said.

   “Fucking wikipedia fucking sucks,” Arizona muttered, then tasted a bit of white icing.

**NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION**

“Do you think I have baby-weight?” Arizona asked looking in the mirror.

“No. Babies weigh like 10 pounds. You’re way fatter than that,” Freja responded as she laid in bed and smoked a cigarette.

“Real nice,” Arizona responded.

“What. Sure. It’s a generalization. I don’t know what ALL babies weigh, but I bet a majority of babies weigh around that,” Freja admitted as she blew a cloud of smoke towards Arizona’s baby weight.

***

Freja decided on yoga, for Arizona.

“I’ll pay,” Freja said.

Arizona didn’t want to take her charity and refused.

“I meant I’ll pay you to do yoga,” Freja said, then slapped Arizona on the ass and then sat down on a wicker chair in the “observation area” of Arizona’s workout.

****NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION*****

  “My desert queen, is that you?” Freja wonders aloud as she turns away from all of the lesbian porn tabs opened on her computer.

  “Yes,” Arizona responds mutedly.

  “Where have you been, ‘Zona? It’s past 11…why is your nose all read? Are you sick?”

  “No!” Arizona snaps back.

  “You haven’t been hanging out with Abbey, have you? You know the sort of things she does…”

  “No, of course not, Frej, I would never do drugs, ever! Not even to lose my baby weight.”

  “Then what’s wrong?” “Well…they don’t want me in the campaigns for Jil again..and it’s been hard for me. That was the one thing I had, the one slightly monumental success that I’ve had. And you and I both know I shouldn’t have even gotten it….I’ve been at Denny’s all night, crying into my Winner Winner Cheesy Dinner and talking to the homeless man that sleeps in their bathrooms at night. HE’S BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH, FREJA. Did you know that some people don’t have their photos taken when they go out in public?”

  “You don’t get your photos taken when you go out in public, at least when I’m not around.”

  “THAT ISN’T THE POINT, FREJA,” Arizona yelled manically.”I need to fix this world…I need to make this world better for the people! I need to end racism against Americans in Paris! I need to save all of the aliens!”

  “‘Zona, you’re starting to scare me….you’re starting to sound like Charlotte Free. Did you take too much cold medicine?”

                        **

  It did indeed turn out that Arizona had taken too much cold medicine.

                        ****NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION****

(via )

ME WITH MY MUSE!!!!

I can’t describe the specific scene of me finding this Freja ad, but I would like to extend my apologies to the Sprint kiosk guy for ruining his sale of some shitty Samsung phone. I would also like to give the Sprint guy photo credit for this picture as I forced him to take numerous shots of me in front of Freja, after I scared his customer away.

“Anja, stop. I told, you, I have a girlfriend. And you have a fiancé. I can’t go through this stuff again, like when Abbey Lee’s boyfriend walked in on me and her. There’s too many tears involved….and tambourine. So much tambourine.”

“Oh, it’s just a little fun! What, am I not good enough for you? I wear plaid occasionally! I’ve had dangerously short hair! I kissed Sasha Knezevic on top of a taxi! Is that not lesbian enough for you?”

“Anja…Sasha is a man. Just because their name is Sasha doesn’t mean they’re a woman. Even Pivovarova.”

“Pivovarova is a girl?” Anja looked shocked. “But I thought she was like Andrej Pejic, who I’m still pretty unsure what hi—er, her?—their? Whatever, just a little peck? Please?”

“No. I’ve got to go. Arizona needs my help, she can’t get the cap off of her Tums again. It’s got a child lock.” ***NOTE: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION***

“I really don’t want to go to this party,” Lily said to Freja.

“Arizona got out of it. She faked like she had that shit that the zombies in 28 Days Later had,” Freja responded.

“Coco believed that excuse?”

Freja noded her perfect cheekbones and said, “She had never seen 28 Days Later so she just took ‘Zona’s word for it… then launched into some story about how she hasn’t had skim milk in 28 days.”

“What did you get Coco?” Lily asked, still presentless.

“I don’t know, what do you get old people for their birthday?”

“I bought my dad tickets to The Knicks once,” Lily said.

“I’ve never heard of them, are their songs good?” Freja asked.

“No, they sound like Abbey Lee’s “”band”“. Except they’re all really tall and throw a ball around.”

“You mean like how me and Zona ‘throw a ball around’? That sounds racy for something to give to your dad.”

The two girls walked In silence for a while, the image of Freja and Arizona “tossing a ball around” rolling like a film through their minds. “Frej, I really don’t want to go to this party,” Lily said, again, “I mean, I thought girls stopped having birthday parties after they turned 30. Are there just going to be old people in sweater vests playing checkers?”

“Coco will never stop having birthday parties. Years from now, when Coco is forty, we’ll still be making this awful walk,” Freja said, knowing that this was the brutal truth. “And we’ll have to listen to her talk about how many orphans in Africa she fed tigers to, or whatever it is they do. And all there will be is baby food because all of her teeth will have fallen out by then.”

“Oh god,” Lily replied, pondering if she should end her life.

***NOTE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION***