Do NOT Disturbe the Sexy.

The illustrious P. Diddy (aka Diddy, aka Puff Daddy, aka Sean "Puffy" Combes) was just in the Twin Cities for a private party downtown. Here is a copy of the invitation:


Evidently, this party (named "The Party Policy" for some reason) was THE social event of the season. I'm sorry to have missed it, but I was just so confused. Just figuring out who to bring was a headache in itself, having already let "my security" have the night off. As far as I could tell, the best date I could have brought would have been a fiancee who worked as a horse jockey, dressed in a Versache tux, with a fake acadamy award for effect. And while many men came close, none of them looked good enough next to me (having just had my stylist pull some fly sh*t out of my closet for me). It really is too bad - it would have been nice to be part of history in the making for once...

Now really - if you're P. Diddy, and you sat down and read over this invite, wouldn't the thought "I am THE most pathetic loser in the history of the world" pass through your head???