It was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, the most holy day on the Jewish calendar. Brody Jenner set down his beer and looked at his Tag Hauer watch. 10:30 AM. He had a long day ahead of him, and wasn’t sure if he even needed this third St. Pauli Girl, but he killed it anyway. The bottle had left moisture rings on his nightstand, so he thought maybe he’d just throw the nightstand out and get a new nightstand. He’d call his assistant and tell her to throw out this fucking nightstand, bro. Just get a new one. Chill. Brody Jenner opened a fourth St. Pauli Girl and looked down at the bare, tan back of the girl he’d brought home from Area the night before. “Get out of my house,” he said.
“What?” the girl asked.
Brody Jenner placed the bottom of his foot against the girl’s hip and pushed with his leg until she fell out of the bed onto the floor. “You’re stupid, bro,” he said. “I don’t even like you, dude.”
The girl stood up and gathered her clothes. “You’re an asshole, Brody Jenner.” Brody Jenner raised his hands up into the air, displaying the tattoo he had down the side of his torso of his own last name in its entirety. He grinned. “You’re such an asshole.” Brody Jenner chugged his beer!
There wasn’t much to be had in the refrigerator of his condo, so Brody Jenner just crushed some left over nachos that were in there and then he got into his black Escalade and went cruising for some food. He stopped at a Shell station to get gas and got three phone numbers from some chicks he figured maybe he’d hook up with later. Sleep with those stupid gas chicks whatever he didn’t even care. Brody Jenner pulled into McDonald’s and ordered a Big Mac and ate half of it and threw the other half in some dude’s face at a red light. “Steve Holt!” he yelled. [Ed. Note: “Brody Jenner!” he yelled.]
Brody Jenner pounded, like, six Red Bulls in a row and hit the set for some cell phone commercial or some shit. He ate a banana at craft services, and had a Luna Bar, he didn’t care if that shit was for chicks, it tasted good. He put one in the pocket of his breakaway pants for later. He got bored in his trailer so he masturbated to a picture of himself.
He called up LC. “Yo, LC!”
“Hey,” LC said.
“Let’s go sit at an outdoor café and talk about things that are happening in our lives in a really expository way so that it makes more sense for the cameras and allows producers to easily edit our conversation into something usable on TV. Also I’m starving.”
Brody and LC met at an outdoor café. Brody ordered an iced cappuccino and a lobster and avocado salad with lime dressing and a turkey reuben and a bowl of ice cream. LC had a glass of water with lemon in it. “You gonna finish that lemon?” Brody asked. LC handed him her slice of lemon.
That night Brody rolled up to Cut at like 10PM for some steaks. He gave the valet his keys and went in and had a huge fucking steak, like the biggest steak. When the waitress came over he just said “steak” and held his hands really wide apart. She got it. She totally knew. He ordered a brew and just waited for his steak. It came with a Caesar salad on the side and he threw it on the floor. “No way, bro,” he said to the salad. Then he drove over to Butter and picked up a whole bunch of new chicks while he sipping on vodka tonics. He got all kinds of digits and he thought about fucking almost all of them.
Brody Jenner is not Jewish.