clipped from: laurafries.com 
I have no other words for this - other than, yes, that is the REAL Paris Hilton, and yes, I met her at Coachella.
So, post-show, I’m sweaty and totally craving roasted corn on the cob, which I’d been sweating (heh heh) all weekend, but waiting to eat for a midafternoon snack. I’m in line, cell in hand, trying to text “Paris Hilton at CSS. omfgwtf” … hitting send over and over … the cell dies … and who tries to cut in line but …
Paris of course has no luck getting corn from the vendors, so she bribes a gal named Shawanda in front of me to get her one: “If I give you money, will you get me a corn?”
And the billionaire hands her a $10. Ha!
q. She looks short.
a. Yes, I am 5′ 6″ and she was several inches shorter than me.
q. Was she nice?
a. She wasn’t mean.
q. Was she bony?
a. Yes, like the coccyx of Satan.
q. Did she smell good?
a. I could only smell corn.
