Last night was the Costume Institute Gala where anybody with at least 5 IMDB credits to their name sprays their pussy with perfume, throws rhinestones on their b-holes and shows up at the Met to get stared down by the likes of Anna Wintour and Andre Leon Talley. It’s kind of like the prom, but instead of awkwardly jacking each other off in a stall in the boy’s bathroom, they stroke each other’s erect egos out in the open. But who gives a dingle about that when we’ve got a pair of magnificent chichis in our midst!
When Christina Hendricks hit the carpet last night, the organizers of the Met Ball announced they were dropping the “Ball” from their name, because they knew they were not worthy. Even though it looks like there’s a Muppets’ taint bush hanging out on her shoulder, I’m still all about this (it’s the chichis).
It’s like some furry forest creatureling is sniffing at her honey dew melon patch. Wait. Or maybe that’s one of Rip Taylor’s old wigs? Or maybe it’s Aretha Franklin’s merkin spying on the competition?
Christina Hendricks’ Mad Men co-star January Jones also showed up last night. Although, I think she got lost on the way to the Blade Runner garden party. It looks like Smoke Monster scooted his ass over her eyes.