So here’s two situations. You decide which one is better.
A. Walking 6 blocks in Beverly Hills explaining the different types and styles of tanning beds while stepping over dogs wearing diamond collars but you’re the bitch who complains about almost spilling your iced mocha (PS it’s still freezing outside). And why is Versace’s line so boorish this season?
B. Discussing over brunch how great it is to bump into friends unxepectedly on the street, then collectively slinking behind your menus as you recognize a busboy who everyone “forgot” to bail out of jail and had laughed at him for getting there in the first place.
C. I don’t even want to get into the part about the mechanical bull, UCONN game, and bottomless mimosas. we’ll save that for another time.
This was my Sunday (I love ya, J.O.).
