gossip girl here, everyone’s favorite god-like stalker. for some reason, i have dedicated all my time and chanel-scented energy to documenting the scandalous lives of 4 rich, entitled teenagers and 3 “poor” kids from brooklyn who sometimes end up interacting with them. i know where they shop, the street corners of where they hail cabs and even some of the petty crimes they commit—blair, you little winona in training!—yet nobody is freaked out when i post these things on my pre-perez hilton blog. just goes to show that even in the early 2000s, everyone wanted to be famous via social media, even if it did include an invasion of privacy. who knew that in 2007, the creator of the o.c. would set out to do new york version of his hit show, complete with extraneous plots surrounding our favorite antiheroes’ parents. yawn. i’d much rather focus on how my favorite sexual assaulter, C, attempts rape on both S and J in the first episode! how dramatic. because i am also an antihero, i don’t bore you with how problematic it is that little J or S act like nothing ever happened or that he is eventually treated as a sympathetic character. in my world, he just becomes gay. hey, a girl needs a shopping buddy when she can’t decide between the sigerson morrison kitten heel flats or the manolo blahnik four inch stilettos. after all, we do have social events to attend, boyfriends to catch cheating on us, college admissions interviewers to kiss, lavish ski trips to go on, drugs to do, and most importantly, hearts to get broken, because, let’s face it: N is the true definition of a fuckboy, but if he weren’t so generically attractive, it’d actually be a bad thing. anyways, i’m off to run errands. a girl needs to restock her kiehl’s skincare, get a new kate spade tote, grab a new battery for my nokia 3310, pick up her new hermes scarf and get her hair trimmed at elizabeth arden. it may not be easy to live this consequence-free life of excessive pampering and endless wealth, but someone’s gotta do it. until next time, you know you love me. xoxo, dan humphrey.