I Can Has Style.
I’m drinking chocolate milk from a scotch glass, a plate with smeared gingerbread crust and chocolate from my secret cheesecake recipe sitting idly by.
Not quite the setting one would imagine for THIS!
Fucking what! That gorgeous accouterment is a violent red, mouth dropping, second skin of seduction.
It stirs fantasies of vampires, madames and fashion blogs. Certainly nothing implying chocolate milk or crust on my lip that I don’t know about until Frankie points it out tomorrow morning.
But hey, I’m a lady of 2011: A woman in the street and a sad excuse for the feminine persuasion inside her dark apartment illuminated by Bravo TV writing a “comedy” blog.
If she can has style. I can has style.