Um. Big as in the DD’s?
Can I get away with this dress IF…
I buy a damn good pair of SPANX and a ginormous industrial push up bra?
September 26−October 3, 2009 Pick a book any banned book!
Otherwise known as the only time I can afford to get to places like this.
My goodness this year is going so well (knocking on wood.)
The important decisions are yet to be made.
THIS is my GALA dress. (And if I tell you how little I paid for it with a coupon you will be JEALOUS.)
Now…can I pull this off with it? Cause I LOVE it and it is SASSY.
As a human when I clean my bathroom I want to keep it as spic-and-span for as long as possible.
Simba Cat however…starts pooping in the fresh litterbox before I can even empty all the fresh litter, into the box.
Silly *stinky* cats.
President on Belly Look? Thumbs down. Waaaaaaay down. Wonder what the gown looks like from her backside?
Loser. (Not because of Dave…but promising a rooftop wedding…ugh.)
Nevermind. Asshole is more appropriate here.
Yet! The most revealing, scandalous, ridiculous shit in the proposal is nothing like I’ve ever read in politics, or in any section of the New York Times but the Weddings & Celebrations and maybe—maybe, an especially gauche day for—the Sunday Styles…
[Andrew Young] wrote that Mr. Edwards once calmed an anxious Ms. Hunter by promising her that after his wife died, he would marry her in a rooftop ceremony in New York with an appearance by the Dave Matthews Band.