Haven't you guys missed P Hilly so much? Of course not, but didn't you
almost forget about her ass? Still no? Sorry. I usually treat Paris like I treat my need to go to the gym (pretend it's not there), but when homegirl shows up at a fashion show in a top from the new "Slutty Toddler B*ches Collection" she just started, you can't ignore it. Eff, I probably just gave her a new idea for a clothing line.
I'll be honest -- I really can't fault this b TOO MUCH, because I used to buy Old Navy terry cloth toddler shirts and wear them as crop tops. They were, like, a 4T. In my defense, it was the early 00s. Everything was super-disgusting back then. At least I was.
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| i miss myspace. |
Speaking of the Hilts, I have a little bit of a backstory with her. When I was in Las Vegas one weekend, back in the Hilton sister heyday, I couldn't stop running into Paris' ass. I first saw her in Bebe (SHUT UP, IT WAS 2007), where her bodyguard handed my cousin and me signed postcard-sized head shots of PH, because we were standing within a 10 foot radius of her in her sweatpants, I guess. I then saw her later that night at a club, where she awkwardly danced in the elevated VIP section next to LL Cool J. By the time I saw PP and Nicky walking though the casino carrying cats in their arms the next day like queens of damn Sheba, I was done with that sh*t. I have enough Paris Hilton anecdotal stories to last a f*cking lifetime, thank you very much. It's still too soon for me to see her face.
And really, after writing all of this, I'm starting to question my life choices.
I need a drink. Thanks, Paris.
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