Two things happen at Fashion Week. Wealthy people on SSRI’s exchange absurdist level of details concerning clothes. And the small number of straight dudes in attendance wait for famous chicks to flash their nipples because nobody who is anybody who is getting paid to be in Paris is wearing undergarments. I spy Rita Ora. I’ve seen her nipples more than my last two girlfriends combined. One of them had three, so I’m referring to total viewings, not per nipple averages. She has the confidence of a young woman with nice breasts. You can see my tits? Why don’t you take a picture? It will last longer. I’m not being snarky, take a picture. I’ll show you how to upload it to Twitter and I’ll retweet it. My tits are fabulous. I made five million last year. You wear the bra, weirdo. This is fun.
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