Tuesday, March 4, 2008


"Listen lady, the deal was a handy, not a latte."

In a story that’s about as surprising as the Bible being written on drugs, it turns out Paris Hilton hired an actor to play her spiritual guru for publicity photos. The man in these pictures isn’t a monastic guru from the Far East; he’s just a Mexican guy from East LA. Who would ever expect a woman who intentionally flashes her press-documented herpes-infected, fully dilated walrus vag to all of America to choreograph a stunt feigning an interest in religion?

The worst part is, she could actually afford a real guru if she wanted. It’s not like a guru’s going to annoy you or give you shit for partying too much. The Beatles were so high they made an animated movie about a song Ringo wrote, I’m sure a yogi can turn a blind eye to a few Xanax and couple of crushed Vicodin.

Either everyone on team Paris is retarded or there was a miscommunication between casting and wardrobe. They cast a long haired Beatles guru from India type, but put him in Tibetan monk robes. Tibetan monks shave their heads. That’s like putting a priest in a burkha. It’s not as likely to start a war, but just as inaccurate, and a producer should have caught it.

“What’s this word?”
“I don’t know.”

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