I Saw London, I saw France, and got to see Paris’ underpants. What is up with all the people that I know wanting to show me the Paris Hilton video? I’ve seen it, and I don’t need to see it again. Except for the size of Rick’s dick, it’s quite boring. The cell phone appearance is so fitting.
I ran into Victoria Beckham at Harrods, sans David unfortunately. She is Calista Flockhart thin. Skeletor is scary in person. She was fresh off of her performance from the newly revamped Top of the Pops. She was shopping with her kids, who are adorable (and I’m not a kid person). All Posh wanted to talk about was Paris Hilton. Will the madness ever end?
I was visiting my mother in London, with a quick day in Paris for some shopping. We both stocked up on the Chanel. My heart is full. My mother and I have a very good relationship now. It wasn’t that way when I was growing up. I saw her as a cold-hearted bitch, and she saw me as a spoiled brat. Our edges have softened since then, and now were on the same page. We’re somewhere in between Gilmore Girls closeness, and Julie and Marissa (The O.C. – guilty pleasure) closeness. I kind of imagine we would kind of have the type of relationship Liza would have with Judy if she were still alive; minus the gay husbands.