Before I get into embarrassing myself even more by slobbering over this tall glass of Swedish leche in a tux, I just want to thank those of you who sent me well wishes about my sick ass dog. He’s still laid up in the hospital where I’m sure he’s trying to find a way to tell the vet, “Please don’t send me home yet, he’s probably going to make me watch last night’s Real Housewives of Dallas episode!” The vet is either a RHoD fan or my dog failed at his mission, because I get to take him home tonight and I’m sure he’ll be back to his usual self soon. By that I mean he’ll soon be shoving his head under sofa cushions as I watch one of my many favorite shit shows of choice. And now let’s get back to our regularly scheduled program of getting the full-body tingles for Alexander Skarsgard.
While Beyonce looked like “Rock With You” Michael Jackson meets American Horror Story: Coven and Betsey Johnson looked like the human equivalent of a Popple that got tangled up in a washing machine at last night’s CFDA Awards, ASkars kept it classic in a black and grey tuxedo. And that’s the problem! Tricks are supposed to serve up high ~fashun~ at the CFDAs, and yet ASkars’ stylist chose to put him in a boring ass tuxedo you can probably rent from Men’s Wearhouse! I read L’Uomo Vogue all the time (no, I don’t) and they say that (no, they don’t) this season’s formal wear is all about ass-less plastic chaps, tuxedo g-string Speedos and bow tie nipple pasties. That’s what ASkars should’ve worn last night. But he does get extra points for that Blue Steel gaze and jazz dance stance
And here’s more of ASkars at the CFDAs last night. I can hear you fellow hard-up whores saying to yourself, “I wish he would CFDA me, and yes, CFDA stands for ‘come fuck dis ass!’”