Wow. It's been a long week, but I didn't think I'd be rendered speechless until at least some time after cocktail hour began. And yet here we are, nary a cocktail to be seen, and I am slurring my words and running into walls, thanks to this :
It's like Laura Ashley married a Poison video and then got really inappropriately drunk at the wedding and threw up all over Jennifer Connelly. And, bless her, she's putting on a happy face about it, but inside, you just know she's thinking, "Damn, I hate the 80s. If Frank Whaley thinks this is some kind of coded message for him to call me, I'm going to cut a bitch."
