Lay Off the Smack

Don't you hate it when you wake up in the morning with a black eye and you have no idea how it got there? I know, if I had a nickel for every time that happened - or maybe more aptly, if Sadie had a nickel for every time that happened. So Sadie and "Brandon Walsh" have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, I know what you're thinking ...(Leeeeave him, gurl *jerryspringerface*). The other night two were fast asleep in "Brandon's" California king when --WHAM! There's a Chris Brown wallop to the side of Sadie's head. Rude boy. We all know big girls don't cry, but for those times when a 6'4'' grown man fist punches you in the kisser, we'll make an exception. Sadie let out a cry in pain that probs woke the neighbors and it certainly woke "Brandon". With tears streaming down her face, Sadie whined, "You punched me!" Horribly dismayed and totally unaware of his sleep-punching prowess, "Brandon" cried, "What? Omg!". Sadie was tots being dream-attacked and "Brandon" was coming to her rescue. It wasn't even a contest, he KO'd bastard in round 1. Too bad Sadie's attacker, in another consciousness, is also her noggin. She doesn't need her brain any more scrambled than it already is, "Brandon". Believe you, me.

I, for one, nearly peed myself at hearing this story. I mean, he's really a knight in shining Range Rover coming to her rescue. Or is this a sign of trouble to come? Do you believe "Brandon Walsh's" oh-so-convenient story. Should Sadie bitchslap him back? Omg what to do about the black eye - Sadie's going to have to tell all the kids at West Beverly she 'fell down the stairs' -- wait but they've seen that episode, they're not going to buy it. Shoot.

Brand0n Wa1sh

I love it when life imitates art, imitating life, imitating art, imitating life...again. It's so post-modern, it's vintage (see: Back to the Future). Enter Brandon Walsh into our crazy world.

One night, Sadie, our in-house concert junkie decided to attend a Passion Pit concert. So after a long dramz with sketchy Craiglist sellers, we finally went (I, as her "muscle") to collect the tickets the least sketchy individual (note: it's Craigslist, everyone is sketchy). It was dark, it was rainy but we probably played up the whole noir-ness of the situation a bit much. Turns out my muscle was not needed in the end and the seller actually appeared to be a nice guy *I-had-a-baseball-bat-in-the-back-seat-just-in-case-face*.

After the concert Sadie and two of friends were hanging outside when they ran into another friend. They chatted, said friend's concert-going buddy came over to say hi for 2.2. This buddy did not speak to Sadie beyond a "hello", I'm not even sure he got her name, but in the 2.2 he stood in the general presence of her aura, he was apparently smitten. Sadie got bored with the huddled circle convo outside the concert and moved her ass on over to Guys and Dolls for a drink. Before the G&D bouncer could even finish telling the trashy girl in line in front of Sadie that she wasn't dressed well enough to get in, Sadie got a text from a mysterious phone number.

Some cute, flirtatious texts were exchanged. Before she knew it Sadie had a date for Thursday with some kid she new only one fact about: He wrote for the new 90210. And he signed his text messages "Later, Bitch" - ok that's two facts. Either writer boy is way too into character or he needs to be dropped, like Navid down the stairs. Whatevs, in my book the "Later, Bitch" is more than a good enough reason to investigate a bit further and have dinner with a guy. Sure, ordinarily this guy would be some fabulous gay man, but still...Brandon Walsh is from the east coast (they're big on the Metro) so we'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

I'll be back with more to report soon, but don't be surprised if you see Adriana being checked into rehab again by some new girl called Sadie. That's just gossip, though.