We were talking tonight over dinner (hooray for fondue!) about wether it’s better to go to a strip club or to a ballet. Jennie and I say ballet, because you still get to see scantily clad people (one of the dancers last night wore a loincloth!), they’re better dancers and you don’t have to worry about being exposed to herpes.
We turned to Jennie’s fiancé, Damian and asked him.
Me: So, which would you go to? Strip club or ballet?
Damian: Neither.
Jennie: Gun to your head, which would you choose?
Damian: I choose the gun! Shoot me now.
Me: I am so blogging this.
Jennie: Bitch!
It’s ok, Jennie got to blog about Miss America. And she stole my good line about the host looking like the bastard love child of Tom Cruise and John Edwards. Go over and check it out. I’ll say this much, modernized competition my ass. The vacuous blonde chick won. Ugh. Her evening dress looked like something that a figure-skater/stripper would wear on a date with her baby-daddy to Sizzler.
I still wish that I had been there so that I could have eaten carbs on stage with Clinton Kelly.
Mary also has an entry about the pageant here. She said everything that I was thinking about it.
but it truly was a fabulous comment about the host, and soo dead on…besides it was impossible to hold back the snarkiness, the whole thing was a train wreck.
For me, the best moment came when Miss Utah was eliminated and the other semi-finalists saluted her by dropping to the floor and doing push ups. Apparently, she’s in the military and frequently did push-ups during the reality series. To see them in their little black dresses and heels do that on stage was priceless — and one of the few truly spontaneous moments.
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