Shameful To Admit, But...
...I thought Paris looked hot while she was crying in the back of that cop car.
I mean, I think Paris Hilton is the Devil Incarnate (and not particularly attractive), but that doesn't change the fact that I think my pecker moved a little bit when I saw those photos of her.
Maybe she just reminded me of a couple of my exes, but damn--I thought she looked better than ever.
I wanted to dry her salty tears. I wanted her to look up into my eyes and say "I love you, Rob. You're the only one who understands me."
Then, I wanted her to move in with me and learn to read, so that we could sit in lawn chairs behind my house, drinking fruity drinks while we read the collected works of George Batailles, occasionally pausing to reach out to one another, hold hands, and just enjoy the birds and their carefree songs.
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