Aww shit, fools, I didn’t even know it was the Met Gala tonight until about five minutes ago. Thank God I had a complete meltdown earlier tonight and Caleb banned me from coming him help sand things at his studio, or else I wouldn’t be here doing this. Now all that’s left in the apartment is me, Franke, Butters the less fat cat now that she’s on diet food, a bottle of seltzer, and unfortunately nothing else, because no one has been keeping track of me for the past two weeks, and I’ve run out of edible — ie snack — food.
I’m just going to go with images as they come. Sorry that there’s no rhyme or reason to this bullshit.
Do you think Anna Wintour’s so tight that she whistles when she pees?
Oh my god, yes, Kimmy K, just as tragic as everyone was hoping for! I can’t see your hand — did your fetus eat it? I can’t say anything except I hope a strap breaks from your feet being too swollen. You are amaze. Wish we could drink some champs. Have fun with your girlz and your baby daddy XOXOXOXOX
Oh no Bey. Oh yes. This dress is awful. And I intensely dislike you! Might I ask — when did your mother start designing for Givenchy? And also, did your stylist die or go blind, or do they just hate you?