Last time talk turned to Paris and the Burning she has induced, many of you wondered why I would waste your time with the cynically manufactured play-project of a wealthy, spoiled, party-hopping bobblehead when there are perfectly deserving bands. To these people I say: I merely am the tool of Satan. I like my 401(k). You got problems? Take them up with the Dark Lord of Tartarus.
So… the video. It looks, um, it looks, well, it looks like she went to the beach, accompanied by an underwear model bred in a tank specifically for this occasion. Luckily, someone had a camera (someone always seems to have a camera when Paris is involved) and a music video broke out. I feel sorriest for that tree she’s gyrating with. (Guess Fabio Jr. can’t dance as well he… tans.) The way Paris is molesting it, I think the tree has a strong case. Or, rather, it will have a strong case… of something, unless it downs some amoxicillin, stat. Ha! Didja see what I did there? Didja… uh… Hoooooooooooooooooooo boy.
Final thought: If anything, she’s achieved the impossible: The video is even less sexy than her sex tape.