Some of the more jealous types around here (i.e. fatties) are telling themselves I was given the blog because, as the receptionist, I have no actual responsibilities and plenty of time to write. Bitterness is so not sexy. The truth is, it’s because as the receptionist I am THE face of Mode. I am the first person people see when they come in. You can’t just put any random chick in that chair. I mean, do you know what would happen if Dolce or Gabbana walked in and saw some girl with glasses and braces eating a chalupa? Disaster. Not that I’m talking about anyone in particular. It’s totally hypothermical.
That’s all for today, kids. I’ve got to get back to my day job. All these phones ringing and no one answering them is giving me a headache.
Welcome back to my blog, everybody. I kinda wish it were a vlog instead of a blog so you can see what a great hair day I’m having. It’s also a great boobs and butt day too. I guess you’ll just have to picture it for yourselves… like you’re not already.
...that chef on Hell’s Kitchen who curses more than a pre-menstrual gypsy witch…
So if Gwyneth, and Keira, and (grrr) Mary-Kate are wearing them, how could I not? Besides, who’s really to blame here? Me, or the store that accepts my credit card when I have no money?
Now, I heard somewhere that the government is bailing people out who are in debt, but where’s my check? They give money to some skank named Fannie Mae, but not me? What kind of name is Fannie, anyway? That’s an old lady term for “butt.” What’s next? They’re going to give money to Tushy Robinson?
OMG, I have to go. Katie Holmes just walked in, by herself. Her handlers are downstairs getting coffee. Now’s my chance to free her!
Haha bästa på länge! Men jag förstår fortfarande inte varför det finns så många nasty översättningar av Fanny/ie. Slår vad om att mamma har vetat om det hela tiden...
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