
nourish the inner schmuck. I agree with Bono, you and your frog husband are a pack of wankers.
i swear, and I'm not even kidding; the level of cringe was so high that my eyes welled up. She's my style icon (bland to some, but as a steady capricorn, i dream of black balenciaga blazers with matching black jeans, possibly with a splash of a grey t-shirt underneath but lets not go crazy)
Why Gwynie? WHY!!! "me & tamra davis cook dinner for our husbands, - oh did i mention they are coldplay & beastie boys front men?" (if thats possible for the latter trio, but you get it)
"I love to take my children on day trips to paris and help them understand the beauty of life" - bitch, please. my kids'll be lucky if they get to the national gallery and happen to sit near some baguette-eating transplant who has a vague memory of what the eiffle tower looks like in his home city. "eeeh you know it's veh hiiigh i sink... i'm le tiiiiiiiiired..."
We see you in your polished little family unit.
In Hello! magazine, in OK! and any other publication that requires punctuation in the title for some extra pizazz. Hibiscus-infused salt from spain (what.the.fuck) doesn't pay my bills. i shit you not, she has it as a 'must-have' in the cook section.
I almost had to restart my computer, I felt so dirty after actually paying attention to this site...

No comments:
Post a Comment