I really wish you could see the wonk in socialite Tara P-T’s nose. It basically recently collapsed, because — she’s admitted this — prolonged cocaine use jacked it up almost beyond repair. She kept touching the right side of it really gingerly, as if making sure it hadn’t shifted any further to the left. Oh, Tara. You are a delight.
A delight, and presumably a canoeing enthusiast, as she’s strapped one to her skull. Do we think this is what became of Violet Beauregard? A rampant drug habit brought on by years of ritual juicings, ending in her at a royal wedding holding her nose in place while a very cold horizontal Dutch person goes clogging on her forehead? Poor Violet. At least Veruca got a golden egg on her way down to the incinerator.
