The Met Gala But Make It a Gas Station Stop

Bestie has issued the dress code. Craig has prioritized fries. I’m just here to narrate the fallout.

Readers,

Especially my newbies! Welcome. You have arrived at what can only be described as the least stable entry point possible. Truly impeccable timing on your part.

Because apparently, the exact week I decide to launch a Substack is also the exact week the boys and I will pack ourselves into a car, head to Las Vegas, check into the Tower like we’re at…