Cry Baby

I spent WAY too much time watching MSNBC this afternoon at The Palace and at about 5:30pm saw a piece about a woman who would not leave her dog and be rescued. She had been clinging to the roof of some white trash shack, but had the fucking decency to decide that she was not going to be "rescued" without taking her dog, which the Coast Guard wouldn't do. It was a give and take issue, and I started to cry uncontrollably. (Mrs. Astor, who so haughtily reigns here, is given to such things.) "The Favorite" took my hand and Crown Prince Boris put his arm around me and suggested I go home to rest, from where I write.

I'm going to pull myself together and post some truly grand photos after I stop crying.
It will be a diversion, only. The Palace has already summoned me back.