Paris Hilton Is A Romantic
And just for the record, a romantic evening alone with Paris consists of prescription strength lice cream, forged STD results, and an elegant crab dinner courtesy of her pubic hairs.
“Oh, honey, I wasn’t expecting you home for another hour!” Paris cries, wiping her hands on her apron. “Why don’t you take a nice, relaxing shower while I finish cooking dinner, okay?”
Paris smiles lovingly at her mate before reaching under her apron and picking a large crab from her pubic hairs. “Oh, you’ll do nicely!” she says, dropping it into the pot of boiling water. “A splash of lemon and some melted butter and you’ll be delicious! Now where did I put that fucking cheese grater? Oh, that’s right! I let Snooki borrow it to exfoliate the dry skin on her feet! Well, no harm done. I can just grate the cheese with my toenails! And if my boyfriend asks about the fungus, I can just tell him I added some mushrooms!” *whistles cheerfully as she runs a block of Gruyere over her toes*
Yeah, and now that I have ruined my appetite for the next ten years, here is what Paris Hilton had to say about being a romantic: “We all have love, romances and heartbreaks, but we evolve with them and that makes us wiser people. However, I am still a romantic at heart.”
Oh, Paris. Let me tell you a little secret. The Angry Greek is a hopeless romantic, and when I finally meet the hunchback of my dreams, she and I will not be eating crabs or swapping tubes of herpes cream. No. Instead, I will sweep her off her hooves, lay her down on my bed, and tenderly shave her back while 2 Become 1 plays softly in the background. Now that is romance, Paris! And now, if you will excuse me, I need to go giggle girlishly and write “Mrs. Angry Greek-Hunchback” in my diary over and over again. Shut up, vagina. I saw you slow-dancing with a cheese stick earlier, so don’t you dare pass judgment on me!