T'was the grandest affair in plan, and yet, the foulest in action.
The point is, we all looked very ready for a polite reception, and the table was laid beautifully. In theory, we were all quite dainty. However, in practice, we curse like sailors and watch videos on YouTube. What can ya do?
This is apparently my Anna Wintour impression. Although, she hardly looks so expressive. Plus, I'd need a huge pair of sunglasses and a blunt-cut bob. And I've never seen her in a hat. That would occlude the hair.
A pretty teacup as seen by Meg, the artsy-fartsiest.
Cassie, Biff and Meg, being very proper indeed.
Cheryl and I, apparently posing with food. How demure.
And now to discuss the complete opposite of demure. Honestly, I tried my best to like Amy Winehouse. I read an interview with her before I ever heard her music. The interview was exactly the same as the subsequent interviews I read. She tarted around acting bored, made out with her ever-present boyfriend a lot, half-answered questions, and cut the interview way short. How annoying would she be to hang out with? V. annoying, that's how.
So I listen to her song. What in the name of what?! GO TO REHAB! The Betty Ford is calling your name!!
And today I see this. You know what? I rest my case. (But do note that she's making Paris Hilton look fat.)
Ugh.
