I was at the Emmys on Sunday, in my seat near the aisle, taffeta bunching up in my pits, when Padma Lakshmi walked by. If there was an award for Best Skin, it would have had to have gone to her. Head to toe, she shimmered, like Edward Cullen in the sunlight, only more golden like her Armani Prive dress. It was as though she was giving off sparks. Everyone stared. The pictures don’t even begin to do her justice.
As she glistened her way up the aisle, a mere mortal stepped on her train, and she growled “OUCH!” loudly in that bitchy pretty girl way that really means “HOW DARE YOU EVEN COME NEAR ME MUCH LESS STEP ON MY DRESS YOU WORTHLESS MOTHERFUCKER,” and I swear to God, something like fangs popped out of her mouth. She must’ve quickly retracted them the way they do on True Blood, because they were soon replaced by a fake smile on her face as she resumed the charade of being a real person again.
One Response to “Wherein I Can Only Conclude That Padma Lakshmi Is A Vampire”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.