Please, leave all overcoats, canes and top hats with the doorman: from that moment you'll be out of place and under-dressed.
I'm wrecking this evening already and loving every minute of it, ruining this banquet for the mildly inspiring.
When you're in black slacks with accentuating, off-white pinstripes, everything goes according to plan.
I'm the new cancer, never looked better. You can't stand it, because you say so under your breath.
You're reading lips: "When did he get all confident?"
Haven't you heard that I'm the new cancer?
Next is a trip to the the ladies room in vain, and I bet you just can't keep up with these fashionistas. Tonight you are a whispering campaign. I bet to them your name is "Cheap." I bet to them you look like s**t. Talk to the mirror, choke back tears, and keep telling yourself that "I'm a diva!"
Oh, and the smokes in that cigarette box on the table -- they just so happen to be laced with nitroglycerin.
I know, it just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up.
I've never been so surreptitious, so of course you'll be distracted when I spike the punch.
 dyejob · Sun Mar 16, 2008 @ 12:46pm · 0 Comments |
