Nov 09 2005
Kirstie Alley Is My Dream Girl
Apparently.
Last night, I dreamed that Kirstie Alley and I were in a public restroom somewhere (no, not like the infamous cheerleaders – sorry if you were hopin’ for some hot hot voluptuous girl-on-girl action, guys). She was earnestly trying to convince me that I had thrown something in the sink. I maintained my innocence, claiming that it was, in fact, pink confetti*.
I was distracted from the argument by the fact that I was unable to open the clasp of my adorable new pink handbag. I kept fiddling with it, to Kirstie’s great annoyance, until she finally grabbed it and opened it for me, dumping it back on my lap with disgust. I, on the other hand, was perfectly happy and starting rummaging through the contents: lip gloss! A sparkly hair ornament! Oooh, money!
I still say it was confetti. And I didn’t even get any diet tips.
*This reminded me of when I visited the Motown Historical Museum and found a single red sequin on the floor of the ladies’ room, as if one of the ladies from that glamorous era of music had just swept out the door in a fabulous gown.
3 Responses to “Kirstie Alley Is My Dream Girl”
Yeah but, then, after she dumped the purse and you rummaged through its contents, was there hot, voluptous girl-on-girl action?
When were you in the Motown museum?
Mike: The barking dogs upstairs woke me up at that point (at 5 am!), but I’m pretty sure that Kirstie was so fed up with me by then that the only girl-on-girl action would have been her foot meeting my butt.
Kathleen: I was there in my misspent youth. There was no-one else in the upstairs part, so I climbed over the ropes and snooped in the Gordys’ apartment. I loved the pink bathroom (that’s not where I saw the sequin, though).