She. Is. A treasure.
She, as a human person inside a piece of cloth, somehow looks very glamorous and comfortable despite the fact that she’s clad as some kind of bovine flamenco dancer (flamencow?). And everywhere I look, there’s another skin window:
Let’s not mince words: It’s quite hideous. But let me tell you, if her performance on maracas night at her local Chick-Fil-A goes nationwide, I will be there.