Manolo says, ayyyy! Tom Cruise, three times larger than life!
Manolo says, here is the best of the week from the Manolosphere.
While this doesn’t mean I have folded my campaign to systematically kick all hippies in the head with my pointy pointy shoes, I’ll give the granola grazers kudos on this one.
Francesca submits that, had Britney been dancing her tushy off, had she acted like she was sincerely excited to be at the VMA and having fun, had she come prepared and put in the sort of effort and sweat that made her famous, fans would have been pleased no matter what her tummy looks like now.
There are a couple reasons I won’t be calling on Tim and Veronica myself, not the least of which is the fact that nobody but NOBODY is ever going through my underwear drawer but me.
Note: Stefani loses points because despite a solid effort, she, in fact and in actuality, failed to drop the baby.
I can see it now, “Boys and girls, it’s Natasha’s birthday, so her mom brought us all brussels sprouts and cabbage!” Can you hear the shouts of joy?
Gimme More wigs and some glue, I’ll just paste them on top of this one and hope my head doesn’t topple off from the weight of them all.
And yet, Mr. Henry remains less than completely satisfied. He longs to integrate all his pleasures. He offers up a late summer prayer to be granted perfection in multi-slacking.
Obviously only for the brave, the garment is best attempted by big, burly men.
I spent the whole of the ceremony fighting gravity and praying that I would not topple over into a ravine.