(crs) Like my body?

Ladies and gentlemen, let us pause for a moment, with bowed heads, wondering eyes, and bated breath. Stand fast in your daily toil, for it is the end of an era. Anna Nicole Smith has passed. Her dainty eyelids have fluttered their last. Her strawberry lips have puckered their last pout. Her bulky frame has heaved itself down a runway for the last time. I would like to keep this small memorium-in-blog tasteful for, above all else, that is how she lived her life: with grace, taste, and self-effacing kindness. Let us remember her as we loved her most...





TrimSpa, baby!




















Apparently our little Southern rosebud collapsed in her Florida hotel room, of causes unknown (-cough- drugs! -cough cough- like her son!). I think the only consolation we can take from such a truly earth shaking loss is that she will be going to heaven to join that decripit old oil-millionaire who so lecherously paid her to be seen in his company on many occasions. In fact, their star-crossed love was so deep that upon his death she went to the supreme court against his quibbling progeny to prove her undying to commitment to her former husband (and to make millions upon millions of dollars that she would later fritter away on anything pink or deep fried). May their souls finally drift in mutual comfort among the clouds.

Anna Nicole Smith, 1967-2007, Rest in peace you crazy skank.

-Chris