The Tanning of America: One Nation Under Hip Hop

Here’s the trailer for the four part series I’ve been working on for VH1! Part I airs tonight, 2/24/14 at 11PM EST.


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Things I’ve Done Drunk vs. Things I’ve Done High

In an interview with the New Yorker President Obama said this Sunday, January 19th that “I don’t think [marijuana] is more dangerous than alcohol.” Recreational use is legal in two states, Washington and Colorado, and another 18 states let you use weed legally in some manner, primarily medically. Yet in federal law, (I need to retake a social studies class or watch Schoolhouse Rock, this shit doesn’t make any sense) weed is still in the same class of drugs as heroin, which to me sounds like equating a goodnight kiss on a first date with unprotected anal sex in a bar bathroom.

Obama continues to say that weed is actually less dangerous than booze, “in terms of its impact on the individual consumer.” I don’t use either at the moment, as drinking can make me a self-destructive bitch, and unless given the perfect strain of Indica pot can make me anxious. Why does using the word “pot” make me feel like a grandma? “Are you kids on POT?” However, I have heavily used both in the past…hence while I no longer use either. While I lack a Phd., I feel certified enough in drug use to endorse President Obama’s statement, and support it by the list below:

Things I’ve Done Wasted

  1. Punch my ex-boyfriend in the face

  2. Smash into a BMW while drunk driving

  3. Had sex with people I didn’t want to in ugly situations

  4. Ended up in the emergency room

  5. Slurred horrible, ruthless statements I didn’t mean at loved ones

 Things I’ve Done High

  1. Listened to a lot of jam bands with an ex-boyfriend

  2. Enjoyed the most delicious dried mango

  3. Decided to stay in and watch movies and masturbate rather than go to a party

  4. Ended up a a Phish show

  5. Thought the Led Zeppelin playing in the background at a party was actually the soundtrack to Eyes Wide Shut

 These lists are abbreviated to somewhat protect my reputation. New York, oddly one of the only states without a medical marijuana program, as people walk through the streets smoking joints what seems more frequently than cigarettes, has begun a medical marijuana research program. I hope Gov. Andrew Cuomo takes my list into consideration when contemplating marijuana laws.



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My latest VICE column is up, an interview with musician Lenny Zenith. Read it in its entirety here.

When we think about the glory days of rock ’n’ roll, we think of a sexist boys club that only let in guys who abused groupies and hung out with dudes. Despite this, in the 1980s, female-to-male transgender musician Lenny Zenith and his punk-pop band RZA opened for U2, Iggy Pop, and other legends in New Orleans. Although Lenny is pretty sure Iggy knew he was trans and simply didn’t give a shit, Lenny kept his gender idenity a secret, because it was extremly dangerous to be openly trans. These days, Lenny lives in New York, where he works as an LGBT advocate and plays in a new band, the Tenterhooks, while writing his memoir, Before I Was Me. Recently, I caught up with Lenny at a dive bar to hear his tales about growing up trans with a missionary father and a Cuban mother in an era “before seven-year-olds were on Oprah saying they were transgendered.”

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The Second Half of My Me In My Place Shoot

As I’ve written before, I am down with nudity and don’t think posing in my underwear makes me any more or less professional, intelligent, or feminist. It just makes me me, who is down with the beauty of the female body. The second half of my Me In My Place shoot went up over Christmas, here are a few favorites.

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My first post for The Style Con – At Least Try to Make Me Come/Advice for Attaining More Female Orgasms

My first post for The Style Con is up. Enjoy.

Men can get off with just about anything; their dry wind-chapped hand, a bizarre homemade Fleshlight-like device, some dudes (alright, boys) even fuck their couch pillows. So when men are presented with the opportunity for actual human on human copulation, orgasm is pretty much a sealed deal. Of course I am speaking generally, some men suffer from erectile dysfunction, or can’t get off due to alcohol intoxication, SSRIs, or various other physical or emotional explanations. However, it is safe to say that men come more easily than women. Can you imagine a chick gyrating into an apple pie and getting off?

Read the entire thing in the link above.

xo Sophie


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Into Other People’s Weird

An update on my VICE column: Since writing only about yourself is a bit masturbatory, I expanded my Into the Weird column to change format to include interviews about other people’s strange experience. The latest was with a very special person to me, comedian and crystal healer Katie Manzella. Read the full interview here via VICE.

Shortly after you left rehab, you got a DUI. How did you end up back in trouble?
My friend from a town called Ojai, where I lived for a few years, came to visit for the weekend. At this time in life, my conscious wasn’t equipped with the knowledge that drunk driving was an issue—I also resembled Paris Hilton. Since everyone told me I looked like Paris and I was only 18 years old, I said I was her cousin to get into a bar. Naturally, I was hungry after all the alcohol I consumed, so I drove to a diner. Luckily for me, a nice cop who looked like Pee-wee Herman pulled me over. When he asked me if I had been drinking, I denied that I had been, although there was no mistaking my intoxication. Once they got me into my holding cell, I realized that I was bleeding.

Had you hurt yourself?
No. It was period blood. I asked for Pee-wee to please get me a tampon—anything, even a paper towel. My request was denied time and time again. Even when I said I would stop calling him Pee-wee, I was denied. As Pee-wee walked away and I realized he wasn’t going to come back with my simple request, I took it upon myself to take care of the issue at hand. I wrote, “FUCK THE POLICE” with my period blood on the wall of my holding cell. That’s how you get a paper towel at the West Hollywood Sheriff Department.

Prior to Katie, I interviewed the captivating tattoo artist and guru of sorts Joseph Aloi aka JK5 about meeting his bio mom, and Minneapolis-based DJ and Prince of Darkness The Nightstalker about serial killers and filthy hot sex.

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A Brief Note on World Mental Health Day

Today is World Mental  Health Day. In case you didn’t read and pick up on this from my last VICE column about death and thinking I had no friends, I had been acting rather depressed, whiney and was feeling quite jaded about humans. OK, I was acting a bit like a spoiled brat. I had hurt people, I had been hurt. Cue Johnny Cash, in the one cover I prefer to the original: “I will let you down, I will make you hurt.” 

A while back I wrote of the time my kitty, Mama Cat, who was once upon a time a homeless teenage mom, had bit me and sent me to the hospital. She didn’t want to intentionally hurt me, she bit me because I had left her alone for Christmas, felt abandoned and was going through her own issues. Her biting response was instinctual. While our bodies, brains, and experiences vary vastly from a house cat, we are still animals. It is a cliché, but there is truth to “It’s not you, it’s me.” Often when we hurt others it is because we are reacting from a place of pain, and when someone else lets you down, you must remember they are dealing with their own struggles. Sometimes the best way to be there for someone you care about is to give them their space and let them heal. Just as I would like to be forgiven for the times I acted like an asshole to others, I forgive those who have hurt me, understanding that their actions may be coming from a place of their own pain, and not to take everything so personal. 

Depression, anxiety, or other forms of mental issues are something that most of us, more people than you think, will likely struggle with to some degree from the rest of our lives. This weekend I’ll have a new column go up, one intentionally more about living than dying. I’ve learned you can’t depend on anyone else to fix you, and you can’t truly be there for anyone else until you have healed yourself. For therapy, some people run, others play guitar, some paint, I write. To write I must experience, because as great as Netflix is, reruns of shows I’ve already seen don’t provide the same creative inspiration of the oddities I encounter when I leave my apartment.

Whatever your therapy is, tonight, and as many nights as you can, get out there and do it. And may we forgive — forgive ourselves for inflecting pain, and forgive those who have hurt us, as we never truly know what someone is going through, and kindness and forgiveness provide more healing and emotional freedom than resentment.

Happy World Mental Health Day.

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