So we’ve spent the last week watching Delilah taking crap from her husband Lawrence, growing stronger and more determined to Show Him. She’s changed into her purple Jumpsuit of Seduction and marched over to Charley’s condo. She’s even knocked on the door and made the requisite small talk with the Booty Call of Her Dreams.
And then she gets spooked by the art hanging on his walls! No, I am not making this up!
To make matters worse, it appears to emulate Vargas’ girls from the 40s and 50s, swimsuit-clad cuties with tiny dogs or picnic baskets or umbrellas an’ towels for a fun day at the beach.
WTF?
Oh, Delilah, you’ve let me down. At least I can pretend that Charley’s choice in art is truly repulsive and you have a reason to act like a 16-year-old debutante:
Now, we can continue this tour of Charley’s condo (which is fun, if you like to see Delilah reeling and listing as her eyes are assaulted by depictions of real people), or, like Charley, we can know when to cut bait:
WAIT! Maybe Delilah isn’t such a Goody Two-Shoes! She’s toughing it out, settling on Charley’s loveseat (snort! don’t take a UV light to that one!), and accepting a little hospitality from Mr. Quagmire Smith. You go, girl!
And it looks like those bubble are going straight to her head! Then again, you have to admit that Charley is one Smooth Talker…
You go, Charley!
This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 28th, 2009 at 2:57 PM and is filed under Most maryWorthy. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.