I was on holiday in the South Pacific with Bee and Karl's beloved Brad. He makes an excellent cabana boy. As a result, Karl is rather angry. But I'm sure he's moved on to some other pretty face. He's been ranting about some new young thing or whatever. I really can't keep up with his obsessions. If I did, I would be as crazy as he is.
I would like to talk about this. Of course I went to the debate. I adore that Obama chap. The issue of my lack of a front-row seat simply has to do with the fact that McCain smells like a nursing home and simply thinking about it makes me retch. I had to be several rows back in order to not vomit all over every single demode person there.
BRING ME ANOTHER BOTTLE OF PELLEGRINO BEFORE I BEHEAD YOU IN FRONT OF YOUR PARENTS.
Also, let's have a quick chat about this Palin woman. How in Karl's name did she manage to spend $150,000 on clothes and still look so utterly demode? That much money could buy me about five or six dresses (when Karl gives me the friends-and-family discount), however I realize some must, how do you say, stretch their money a little further. She could have shopped at H&M and been better off. She looks like she went through Hilary Clinton's trash two years ago. And don't even get me started on her accent. It makes me gag. Anyone who works at Vogue who has any sort of accent gets sent to London for two months to unlearn the horrors that the Midwest (and apparently Alaska) does to the English language.
Brad's accent is fine, though. His delightful Missouri drawl lulled me to sleep... uh. Lulled me to... Whatever. I can't really come up with an excuse.