By Matt March 02, 2015 @ 6:07 AM
Paris Hilton has a stalker named Johnny Rock Page who enjoys dressing up in motorcycle gear and calling himself a pro racer. He recently got into Hilton’s gated community by saying he was a flower delivery guy at which point he scared the shit out of Hilton and she asked the number for 911. Page had come to deliver a Cadillac to her which he bought as a gift. He’s also mailed her a wedding dress and had two separate aerial banner flown over her house which read:
“Can’t Get Paris Whitney Hilton Out of My Mind… Mr. & Mrs. Hilton, may I court your daughter Paris?”
The Cadillac sat on the street and then someone came and bashed out all the windows. Page denied being the culprit in a letter he hand pasted from magazine scraps. Page also has two daughters who are going to have to transfer schools now. The oldest rule in the book is chicks don’t like a dude who seems desperate. He could have been inside her already if he’d just called her fat or read her Wiki page out loud.
Photo Credit: Twitter
By Lex February 16, 2015 @ 9:10 AM
This February fashion conclave in New York is where the child laborers in the former Siam sit around the glowing Magnavox in the vizier’s brokedown palace and get a glimpse of the shmata they’ll soon be sewing. The caste system uniquely causes Paris Hilton’s lady parts to swell, the bulb in her panties poking out her dress bottom like a cocaine vending machine signaling it needed service. If this world is going to circle around any common ideal it’s three thousand dollar dresses wrapped around herpetic mannequins. That or soccer when it inevitably sweeps the U.S. for the fourth time.
Photo Credit: Splash
By Lex February 04, 2015 @ 10:07 AM
The world is wondering if Paris Hilton got new tits. It’s taken over the Paris Hilton herpetic memes and has become a close second to her younger brother calling everybody else peasants and threatening to purchase them at slave auctions. There’s some hierarchy of Hilton family inanity, none of which Conrad Hilton probably ever anticipated when he was banging lazy eyes into Chinese girls in his early last century mining town hotels. The sins of pappy.
Photo Credit: Instagram
By Lex January 19, 2015 @ 9:23 AM
Holy christ, Paris, don’t touch the red button. That causes Botswana to explode. Fuck, too late. Somebody should’ve noted that fucking a DJ is not the same as getting a legit DJ’s certificate from the Universal Life Church which also allows you to marry gay men to squirrels when above 5,000 feet. I can’t imagine how Paris feels with her Euro DJ trophy knowing every talentless chick with a decent rack is now also wearing fingerless gloves and pretending to work an audio board at parties. What exactly is she listening for? Maybe somebody is calling her home. Raise your hand toward the Southern sky. The first male model who squats on your first will be your guide.
Photo Credit: PacificCoastNews
By Jack January 09, 2015 @ 12:00 PM
Here’s an interesting proposition for the comic nerds. Can Superman contract The Herp? Current Superma Henry Cavil was seen leaving the Chateau Marmont with Paris Hilton. Kryptonite.
Read all about Superman’s latest foe: the demon rash. (Dlisted)
Nikki Lund in all her wet bikini glory. (Egotastic)
Jennifer Lopez is making a shit ton of money to sing her sucky songs in Vegas. (TMZ)
Kim Kardashian shows off her big ol’ titties in a plunging neckline dress. (Huffington Post)
Check out Charisma Carpenter’s buffies. (Drunken Stepfather)
Alexandria Morgan is practically falling out of her swimsuit. (Popoholic)
Gigi Hadid does some covered topless work for Guess. (The Superficial)
By Lex December 17, 2014 @ 9:37 AM
I imagine hell to be Paris Hilton waving her arm in the air DJing at a sweaty nightclub while throngs babble in thick cockney accents. Fuck, I just shuddered. I hope when I get there it’s just flames and pitchforks and Sodomites who cackle over the latest Real Housewives gossip.
Paris whisked herself to London to DJ a wicked nightclub set fresh off being crowned the top DJ in the entire known universe. It’s the Heisman for bon vivants on viral suppressants. Paris looked absolutely fabulous with her tits pushed up and her ass period leaking an enticing stain on the rear of her dress. Her pink panties the international symbol for look but don’t touch or my bodyguard will snap off your dick like a ninja. The scene was perfect. Paris owned the heart of England. With any luck, the Queen will have her murdered like Diana.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet/AKM-GSI