Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Nice try Mrs. Beckham.
Don't even think--not even for a second--that just because the hotness--that is your husband, David Beckham agreed to bend it in L.A. that you have the right to act up all snotty and arrogant. I know that you made it a point to forget the word smile in your vocabulary and that you made a pact with the devil just so he will turn you into a fashion icon which you so desperately want to become.
One question, how cold is it really in L.A.?
I mean I have seen you wear less fabric when you were in London and I bet, it is way, much colder there right? But why oh why, do you have to wear a fur coat (an ugly one) under the glaring sun of California?
And did an already exctinct primate have to die for someone who uncannily looks like--erm an emaciated primate, to wear his pelt.
The fur is horrible btw.
It looked smelly... it probably is. It looked like it's a good breeding ground for lice, and vaginal ticks. They must be partying like crazy underneath that horrible fur.
And please Ms. Beckham, for the good of everybody, smile.
It wont hurt, it's FREE and you will save thousands of dollars from rhinoplasty to fix that nose that has holes that never fails to let us see everything inside your head-which has only thoughts of the next fashion purchase and images of your husband's "golden balls"; and we are not talking about David's game here.
Just smile. Please.
Because a wide smile might actually redirect those annoying holes and we might be able to see you as--somewhat charming.
They might even give you bananas if you're lucky.