Sunday, November 23, 2008

Where to Lay My Eyes?

You know, as a horror fan, I like to consider myself fairly immune to ficticious blood and guts and gore. I'd also like to think of myself as someone who can appreciate the abstract and those who dare to live outside of the box. Or even on top of it. However now it seems that my eyes have finally met their match. This get up by ex-Nancy Spungen attention whore Hilton has me desperately trying to hold down the tuna and celery I ingested just moments ago. There is no safe place for my eyes to land! No matter where they go, they are faced with the fug. People, we have seen the devil and it does not wear Prada. It wears day-glo and pretend to read books with words it can neither pronounce or spell.


Madam Miaow said...

Holy Jeez!

I, who am too lofty to notice these things and consider Albert Einstein a genius, not for inventing the splitting of the atom and E=mc2, but for his wardrobe of all black identical clothing to make it easier for him to get dressed and carry on thinking fancy new ways to ultimately destroy the planet, say WTF!!!!

My retinas still haven't calmed down and they say, thank you Mrs M for the trauma! BAD Mrs M!

Johnny Cakes said...

I like how the book is facing title-side out--so we can all see what Paris* is reading. Then the hottest gossip blogs will all be about the newest, coolest-est book to hold (note: not read, but hold). What do you suppose all of that other shit she is holding contains? Scripts? Lawsuits? Blank loose-leafs?

*So, back in my LA-days, I went to this party in the Hills. Me and my boys were shit-loaded, and knew NO ONE at this par-tay. Regardless, we were on the roof of this house and Leo DiCrap and Nikki Hilton show up. I offered Nikki a PEZ out of a Incredible Hulk PEZ dispenser, and she took it. She actually said 'thank you'. That was funny shit. (Said party also featured JC Chazez--who I thought was about to suck a dude off--and the Lohan getting escorted from the premises for, get THIS, getting in a fight with a butch lez (I bet Sam Ronson doesn't know that little titty-bit!)

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