It's hard enough shopping for one person; try two.
I'm not kidding. I've got a twin sister. Her name is Fabiola.
Fabiola likes classy jewellery, polished tai-tai hair, and sky-high shoes. Fabiola is a one-time Nightlife writer, a party hostess and an MC. That's Mistress of Ceremonies, natch. She tried lip synching once but it was a grand, old failure. It was at the anniversary party of Dim Sum Magazine. Her hair flew off within the first two bars of Bad Romance. So she swore never to lip synch again.
Last Saturday, Fabiola hosted "Studio 40" at Kee Club. It was the 40th birthday party of handsome financier, Paul Ramscar. Fabiola wore a fully sequined purple disco ball mermaid frock (I know) and drank free champagne shamelessly.
Fabiola, Mr. Ramscar, La Chiquitta |
Thankfully, the programme finished before she got completely trashed. And being the diva that she is, she left early so her twin brother may come out for a bit of a boogie.
James, JC, La Chiquitta |
We went to drop, where I gyrated against an Italian girl who was so tiny, she looked like she was 12 years old. I had visions of Silvio Berlusconi and I got scared shitless. Hello, I don't even like vagina!
OK, I don't remember a fucking thing anymore - can't you tell? |
So then the night wore on and apparently we went to Propaganda to get even more trashed (it happened), after which I lost my friends and went back to drop and then back to Propaganda.
What was I doing? I needed to rest. There was more shopping to be done for Fabiola in the morning. She's making an appearance at the anniversary party of Fruits in Suits.
So I went home and crashed.
With Affection,
James
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