I can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?

For the love of Pete. I leave for a few days and I come back to find this:



What happened, Tara? You were doing so well! You had all that jacked up plastic surgery fixed. Got your hair done. Were dressing less whory. I thought we'd had a breakthrough!



But clearly the only think you're breaking through is the seal on that last case of vodka.

Sigh.

Well, we tried.