For the first time in YEARS, a dinner date kissed Katie Holmes on the cheek and afterward her face didn’t smell like sweaty balls and peen nectar (aka Tommy Cruise breath). I know, I’d be disappointed too if I was her, because when a dinner date kisses me on the face I pray it’ll make my cheek smell like sweaty balls and peen nectar.
Katie Holmes, who hasn’t stopped smiling ever since she learned how to naturally smile on her own (seriously, she’s just showing off now), went to dinner last night in NYC with a bunch of friends including a dude everyone is calling a “mystery man.” They make it sound all sexy and shit. That’s not a mystery man. That’s a manager, agent, lawyer, publicist or some other kind of business type. I know this, because if he was trying to get on her like that, he wouldn’t be awkward smiling like me on kindergarten picture day when I was scared of the camera and didn’t know how to form my mouth into a smile. That’s not a smile of seduction. I also know this, because it’s probably been a long time since Katie has gotten good dick, bad dick, soft dick and any kind of dick. If this was a special kind of date, she’d be so excited that she’d be air kissing him with her cooch. But really, who cares about the mystery man thing when there’s something more important to scream at. I’m talking Katie taking a cab…AGAIN.
I’m hoping that somewhere between that restaurant and her apartment, she traded that cab for a Bentley. The last thing Suri needs is to know that her mother is making a habit out of taking cabs like a commoner.