So last night, we had the juice enducing juicy pleasure of cocktails with Miss Janice Dickinson, AKA The Most Fabulous Woman In The World.
We quaffed, we made merry, we bitched about everyone who didn’t deserve it, we left happier and much more fulfilled people.
But what, famous-watchers, was Janice’s opening gambet upon seeing us at London’s Glittering Sanderson Hotel before the quaffing/merriment/bitching commenced?
‘Nothing could be finer than your lips on my vagina in the morning’, to the very tune of ‘Nothing Could Be Finer’.
Is it possible to j’adore a woman this hard?