Slurpina Regina is renowned for doing what guys love the most, and usually chicks don't. And, no, I'm not talking about bottom-line boinking. Get your minds outta the gonzo gutter, already. I'm not that bad. Yet.
Slurp, for short (just like her), broke up not long ago with her cute man, Smiley Fakeit. Now, though S. 'n' S. have both made a killing in their chosen professions, it's rather ironic that neither of them are a bit like the public thinks.
But then that goes for the majority of Hollywood, doesn't it?
Back to the broken-up honeys: Like many romantic fools, Slurp and Smiley have attempted post-split friendship. Rarely works, right? As one or the other partner is usually still hooked. Just like our talented gal, Slurp.
So, there S.S. is at S.F.'s hillside Hell-Ay-area abode, swinging with the young and the Beemer-driving set. And oh, look! It's a pajama party! How retro-Hef! Last one in the fake-rock Jacuzzi is an underwearing-equipped egg!
Amidst the heavy-duty, NC-17 smooching and groping, Smiley flirts with Slurp just enough to keep her hooked. Throws out a few "love ya's" just to keep that passive-aggressive tether tight, doncha know. What a highlighted canine.
Unbeknownst to Ms. Regina, there at the poke-adelic party is a dude who would die to do her right. And not just there at the stupid-ass themed soiree. The morning after. And the one after that, he professes to one of Smiley's good chums. But the amigo says, no, back off, Smiley wants to get back together with Slurp.
Bigger bummer: Not long after a naïvely hopeful Slurpina departs, her anonymous love wannabe walks into Mr. F.'s boudoir to say good night. Of course, he's busy doing you know what to some random babe from the party.
Dudes--they're dogs, just like I said.
From what I understood, I'm thinking Kirsten Dunst and Jake Gyllenhaal. We all know they're dirty little things.