Paris is a city in France, not an irritating postmodern era celebrity.
I am not getting any of my comment notifications, and I am not happy. Is this happening to anyone else? What gives? I know El Jay went through some maintenance, but they say it's all done and things should be normal. I note that things are definitely not normal.
However, in keeping with the Monday norm, I'm skipping lecture to catch up on all the homework I didn't do over the weekend. Nevertheless, there are worse ways to spend a Monday. Tea, sofa, and book seem pretty exciting actually.
D'you know what else is exciting? Paris Hilton wants to be an astronaut! I'm not even joking. Read the article. Oh, did I ever have a laugh at that one. Pure comedy. She's taking the simple life into ... rural Pennsylvania outer space. 'Cause that's what people with simple lives do. They leave planet earth. Seriously though, more power to her. Maybe it'll give her some direction in life, because the next thing I'm about to talk about needs some serious direction. Hence, the next installment of the 'Oh, whatever' segment.
Oh, whatever.
Paris Hilton has reverted from full-on sex-tapes into adolescent fantasy. It's bullshit, and it's creeping me out.
For some reason, I just don't believe a 25-year-old heiress should (or would, for that matter) be rolling around in her underwear on a teenage boy's bed, and she definitely shouldn't be cooing in his ear. I also really have difficulty believing that she would come down from on high and save her adolescent neighbor from being a social pariah at his high school.
Ah yes. Paris Hilton, saving innocents from loserdom & swirlies one high school at a time.
Oh, and if she caught said neighbor boy watching her change clothes, I'm pretty there would be no coy waving through the window. She'd have her body guards in his room, stealin' all his posters. It would go straight from chihuahua love into restraining order. A mi, c'est l'amour.
FURTHERMORE, THESE LYRICS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CONTENT OF THE SONG. What the hell? What's the point? Who writes these lyrics and why are they always fraught with meaningless cliches? Why has someone not taken away their writing utensils? Who thought this video premise would be a good idea and why are they not fired? And why, for the love of God, can't we get Paris to move in a way that doesn't scream "bored model/wannabe pole dancer"? For realz. I hated Britney, but at least she tried to create interesting music and "danced." Paris just murmurs over a monotonous 4-chord bubble melody with a Casio keyboard beat, cocks her hip out in front of a wind machine, and falls all over a male (regardless of age, clearly.) Whatever.
However, in keeping with the Monday norm, I'm skipping lecture to catch up on all the homework I didn't do over the weekend. Nevertheless, there are worse ways to spend a Monday. Tea, sofa, and book seem pretty exciting actually.
D'you know what else is exciting? Paris Hilton wants to be an astronaut! I'm not even joking. Read the article. Oh, did I ever have a laugh at that one. Pure comedy. She's taking the simple life into ... rural Pennsylvania outer space. 'Cause that's what people with simple lives do. They leave planet earth. Seriously though, more power to her. Maybe it'll give her some direction in life, because the next thing I'm about to talk about needs some serious direction. Hence, the next installment of the 'Oh, whatever' segment.
Oh, whatever.
Paris Hilton has reverted from full-on sex-tapes into adolescent fantasy. It's bullshit, and it's creeping me out.
For some reason, I just don't believe a 25-year-old heiress should (or would, for that matter) be rolling around in her underwear on a teenage boy's bed, and she definitely shouldn't be cooing in his ear. I also really have difficulty believing that she would come down from on high and save her adolescent neighbor from being a social pariah at his high school.
Ah yes. Paris Hilton, saving innocents from loserdom & swirlies one high school at a time.
Oh, and if she caught said neighbor boy watching her change clothes, I'm pretty there would be no coy waving through the window. She'd have her body guards in his room, stealin' all his posters. It would go straight from chihuahua love into restraining order. A mi, c'est l'amour.
FURTHERMORE, THESE LYRICS HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CONTENT OF THE SONG. What the hell? What's the point? Who writes these lyrics and why are they always fraught with meaningless cliches? Why has someone not taken away their writing utensils? Who thought this video premise would be a good idea and why are they not fired? And why, for the love of God, can't we get Paris to move in a way that doesn't scream "bored model/wannabe pole dancer"? For realz. I hated Britney, but at least she tried to create interesting music and "danced." Paris just murmurs over a monotonous 4-chord bubble melody with a Casio keyboard beat, cocks her hip out in front of a wind machine, and falls all over a male (regardless of age, clearly.) Whatever.