Imitation is NOT the highest form of flattery

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I hate Paris Hilton.

Ok, I’ve never met her, so it’s probably not fair for me to actually HATE someone I’ve not (yet?) met. So I suppose I should clarify: I think Paris Hilton is a trashy, skinny, overhyped celibritante whose very existence annoys the living shit out of me on a daily basis. (You should see my comments on those people I actually DO know and don’t like. Don’t mess with me, eleventeen year old bitch. I’ve got several years on your neophyte, wrinkle-free self-aggrandized ass…you may think you’re great but I *KNOW * I am. But I digress. Back to Paris.)

Whatever you say about Paris (and Daisy, I KNOW you love “Stars are Blind” and will agree that it’s a great song to slow dance to at a Bowling Alley…on repeat…after 90 beers), the bitch knows how to pose. Granted, it’s so overplayed it’s almost comical, but her ‘signature’ pose, when mimiced, does make your arm look immediately skinnier and you, if done correctly, look a wee bit sassier.

They say imitation is the highest form of flattery; in this case, I don’t agree. In this case, imitation just provides me a good photo op and an easy excuse to talk smack about Paris. And I think we can agree that, as a result, we ALL win here.

2 thoughts on “Imitation is NOT the highest form of flattery

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