Go Fug Yourself: The Fug Awards Old Fugs Got questions? Contact us About us Press Clippings Advertise with us Fug Merchandise

« Fug Adams | Main | Well Played: Kate Winslet »

October 03, 2006

Fuggis Hilton

Dear Diary,

You know how you, like, always try to think of a really funny thing to say in the moment, and sometimes you can't figure out what it is until way later? Like, when I saw Lindsay Lohan making out with that Stabby Nachos guy I stole from Mary-Kate? (Oh, don't look at me that way, Diary -- she didn't need him right that second.) At the time I just walked over and stepped on Lindsay's foot and then glared at her really hard, but I realized, like, two weeks later that the perfect thing to say was, "Dude. Like, get a room. At a Motel. AND BRANDON DAVIS STILL HATES YOU." HAHAHA! I mean, right? Then nobody could say I am not awesome and smart and clever.

Anyway, so you know what is awesome? My new shirt, which is TOTALLY the perfect thing to say any time you can't think of a comeback as good as the motel thing.  Are you ready for this? It's so good I can't even STAND IT -- wait, hang on, I have to touch up my makeup real quick ... Okay, I'm good now. (Sorry, if I don't check my makeup every ten minutes I start to get wrinkles.)

Here is my shirt:

[Photos by X17 Online.]

That is WICKED HOTT TO DEATH, people! That is for everyone who lies and says they don't like my album. And to everyone who thinks they can, like, arrest me for just driving someplace, and then CHARGE me for driving, like it's my fault I hadn't had any food that night except for a martini.

But you know who ELSE it's good for?

YEAH THAT'S RIGHT BABY. (Hee. I said "baby." Can you imagine if Nicky has a baby? Maybe that would be cool. I could dress it up in little mini-Paris dresses and take it out and it could hold my drinks for me if I need to use both hands when I'm talking to a guy, or if I need to sneak away I could put the baby thing in my place and because we're dressed the same nobody would know I was gone. It would be like having a twin! Just like the Olsens, except we don't wear tights.)

Ahem. Anyway, yeah, I can secretly flip off Nicky any time I'm annoyed with her for being sort of sulky and pouty (for one thing, that's totally MY style, bitch), or being funny (she told me DUI stood for Driving Under Intense Hunger, and I totally believed her for like two whole days and was all like, "See, dude, I TOLD you they believed me," and then she laughed and I guess that was sort of funny of her even though it was mean and I HATED IT) or if she's just bugging me by getting more attention because of her perfect boyfriend and BLAH BLAH BLAH I'm sometimes so sick of her. So she'll think I'm mad at the photographers (but I could never be mad at them really; if they weren't around, there would be no Us Weekly for me to be in, so they're really societally important, and is that a word? I think it is, Diary. See? I'm getting smarter) but really I'm mad at HER. It's PERFECT.



Posted by Heather at 11:36 AM in Paris & Nicky Hilton | Permalink


eXTReMe Tracker