Leppotone

OK. I got this text editing thing working now. Watching Project Drunkway.

Technology and stuff always gets in the way of being able to say what I am thinking while it happens. This simple experiment in Live Kenny Bloggins is now 27 minutes behind, due to technical difficulties.

SO. Now I have to remember what I said earlier to Angie. It has been determined that memory is a lost cause. While I struggle to remember, let us all remember Cheryl Tiegs.

10:31 PM
Rami, celebrating women with his drapery collection. According to Angie, he’s "letting the drama build." Again. Words like "detail" and well, wait. Is Michael Kors wearing sunglasses? He looks like a softened Matt Murdock. Now I just noticed an Italian clown, the crying kind, in the audience. Too many cuts. Too many NOTES!

10:34 PM
Here comes Christian, calling Victoria Beckham a style icon. I guess I don’t live in the United Kingdom of Benetton. Icky stick. That’s what I see. She’s really good at soccer, though, from what I’ve heard. Man. Angie seemed to like some of the clothes, but it all went by too fast. I’m not very good at this. Solidering on …

Maybe there will be a local mattress commercial, mercial (MRSA). I cannot stop with the nose. NOSE! I am developing a cold sore made of laughter. Luckily people with makeup are selling me a hamburger stuffed with onion rings. And now, a message from the people at homoerotic Levi’s.

10:43 PM
The sunglasses were for the sweet party (public runway, not pubic runway) only. All of these icky models make me want to see Nina Garcia naked. Like a lot. Wine is making the Mad Max clothes laughier than normal. Christian has just been accused of having a "heavy hand." I don’t know where to go with that one without dipping my quill in the sickly well of hyperbolic cleeshay. All Angie wants to know at this point is the whereabouts of Seal. Case in point, she just chimed:

"How can Nina judge clothes, when she always looks like shit?"

Maybe that’s why I wanted to see her naked?

10:55 PM
Jillian. You’re out.
Her sweater was swell, though. Now, we all know it’s going to be Christian. Kick up the DRUMS!

10:56 PM
Long manhugs. Adams apples all around. German goodbyes. Voiceovers. Pretty Rami. Klum dwarfing her oldest son, Christian. Crying over that former Spice Girl, who probably would wear an orange box, because she told Christian she would wear his "stuff."

VACAY! This evil clinging to FIERCE. Desperate, nails dragging down the runway, out the door, down the cable signal into a Saturn commercial, into an award show moment, and very soon, into oblivion.

Crap. I was typing and someone on TV just said "I came out of the womb dancing." That must have really hurt.

Wait. Now there’s some Elizabeth Berkley / Nomi Malone dancing reality show. Holy crap. Get out your imdb and your rental cards. I’m feeling a Versace Showgirls moment coming on.

I’m gonna drain the plastic box of wine bladder into my mouth. "Classic Rodeo" is starting.