So where was I...
Ah yes, I was telling all about The Roast of Joan Rivers. Well the funniest part of the whole thing was to see how in shambles all the comedians were. Tom Arnold was so drunk he couldn’t get a single joke out without having to roll back the prompter in the middle of it and start over. Mario Cantone went insane for a brief minute and had a seizure while being possessed by the premature ghost of Joan Rivers -I was so frightened I nearly called an exorcist. Hopefully Carl Reiner was wearing depends because he was sweating and stammering as though he had something extremely embarrassing to be worried about -other than his completely obvious lack of preparation. The other comedians were so negligible I won’t even bother…. Thankfully Joan saved the day and made the whole thing worthwhile.
Anyway, that was last week. This week it seems that someone is comparing themselves to me. Someone incredibly stinky and unfashionable -Saige. She seems to think her social life has come to imitate mine. She can only dream. The special events and exclusive parties that I attend actually exist. I point you to the lack of specificity in her stories as evidence. Never-the-less, I do have a soft spot in my heart for aspiring socialites (even though Saige is far from a teen) so I’m sending her a Mesh Clutch with Swarovski Crystals and some Croc Style Patent Booties.
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