All hail the queen of Retrorama! Her Hive-ness achieved that crown by watching a YouTube how-to and backcombing with a 3/8" drill and a sanding attachment. She is never getting that bad boy out, but that's ok because now she's got a built-in bike helmet that protects the part of the brain that enjoys beef jerky. And Yahtzee.
But I was not just whistling between that big space in my teeth when I alluded to royalty. I can spit through that space too. I've been seeing royalty lately, the Queen Mum everywhere on her Gangstas With Gloves tour -- raving at the Hexagon, 3 a.m. creme donuts at the Holiday on Nicollet, running around Lake of the Isles in some mad tight lycra. She's a beast. But when she's on the clock, she rocks a matching coat/cape and dress in pastel tones with matching hat/hair just like the above monarch. Sure, the Queen Mum has a horse guard and an art collection, but our Wearer of the Cones of the Realm has...
shoes made with real diamonds and...
Royalty are a subtle bunch, aren't they?
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