So my sister is still reeling from the whole Rock of Love debacle. Yes, there, I’ve said it, debacle. I know all my middle-aged female peers are crowing in delight that 37 (ahem!) year old Am-bray won the heart and tongue of our favorite puffy, aging, balding rock star, but I continue to maintain that you could dip that one in chocolate and peanut butter and she’d still be as appealing as a pair of green crocs. Unless, you know, you need someone to drive the mini-van to soccer practice. Then Ambre’s your girl. Daisy’s boobs would just get in the way.
And Lisa agrees. We rarely disagree on the really important matters and are still weirdly obsessing over all things Daisy. So she called me today and asked me to blog a fitting tribute to our girl.
Unfortunately it’s late and I want to brush my teeth and go to bed, so I’ll just leave you with a classy photo. No real need to comment on this one, just had to give my poor devastated sister some closure. It’s been a rough couple of days, people, but we’ll find our way through this trying time. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.
MISS ANTHROPE'S HOUSE OF HIGH DRAMA 