Gee, this morning, I could hardly remember writing this post last night. It was that damn pony, Arabella.
Let me just edit out the glaring spelling errors … hope I get them all….
Man, the two go hand in hand. I have seen nothing like it. Freaky, deeky …. especially with the pashmina pink trout lips that look like slugs that have attached themselves to these women’s faces. The mascara is rivuleting down the botox cheeks and pooling in the artificially inseminated dimples. All this while the foreheads remain as stiff and wrinkle-free as Mavis’ ironing board. Oh, and of course there is not a hair out of place in their Jerseyliscious coiffed-style. Dressed as if their life depended on it, which it most probably does, in African print – none authentic – I should know. But still a shit load of cheetah, tiger, lion and giraffe in da house. I would be scared to be an Italian – right now…..