
The boring part of this post is that Paris is in total denial of the fact that it was more than likely her skanky paws that leaked the pictures of Nicole Richie’s Wizard of Oz(would have been much funnier and culturally relevant if it was Oz the Prison Show. Like with little mugshot cupcakes and sugar handcuffs!) themed baby shower, despite the fact Paris was in all the pcitures and they looked staged. Oh, and that they were offered to the tabloids over the Thanksgiving weekend when all the tabs were under early deadline which is more of a nod to her innnocence because if anyone knows about the schedule of the paparazzis, it’s the Parisite. Moving briskly along.
I understand the Walk of Shame is something that inevitably happens, even to the best of us. You have a little eggnog, you end up under the mistletoe and before you know it you are scanning the floor for a pair of underwear that has just got to be yours since there is only one other pair sitting there and you don’t wear XXXL thongs and and SWEET RAMEN NOODLES what have you done? This is where you grab a t-shirt of part of a bedsheet, slink to your car and speed home before anyone catches you. Few of us would stop for coffee and most of us would hardly pose for the photographers. Even fewer of us would do what follows.
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Even if her house was on fire and she had to leave quickly to escape getting burnt to a crisp with nothing but her pajamas on her back, why wouldn’t she nick into Old Navy and grab some jeans? Because this just looks like a Holiday Special Sale at Slickback’s Hooker House Of Fun.