I’ve finally figured it out. Heatherette slipped Xanax in my Pop Burger milkshake on Monday night. Then they shoved me into Macky’s giant Balenciaga bag and smuggled me on the plane…
Aimee and Macky drove the getaway car… okay, really, they told Traver to change the radio station as they prowled for guacamole…
A dominatrix warden guarded my room outside…
until Richie hid me underneath their Spring ’06 collection!
That’s me stuffed behind those dresses
I had my estate send a trunk stuffed with ransom… but like some of our favorite celebutantes, a lot of it was plastic…
When Heatherette realized my trust fund was faux, they released me into the care of a sweet Mexican model…
And made me a totally gorgeous pair of shoes to apologize for tying me up in Amanda Lepore’s garter belts…
Everybody cheered when they found out I was free.
Also because, unlike Heatherette’s fab four, they never figured out I was imaginary.
Don’t you feel so in the know?
back with real stuff over the weekend… hope you enjoyed the detour as much as I enjoyed the raw tuna tacos, jacuzzi bathtubs, and abundance of beautiful guys named Antonio… sigh.
[SOY YO LA VIVIDORA IMAGINARIA? SI! SI!]