What are you doing here, when you could be over at my True/Slant blog TheCelebrityIndustrialComplex, watching me rip Peaches Geldof a new one? It’s honestly one of the meanest things I’ve ever written, and I cut quite a LOT of the meanness out before I posted it, because I am such a freaking softie.
Especially when it comes to Eurotrashy, chinless, illiterate junkie whore wannabe failed underwear models. As I said elsewhere:
She’s a classic second-generation-rich fuckup. “Shirtsleeves to shirtsleeves in three generations” they say. She was born rich, has spent her “adult” life trying to get street cred while wearing Balencifuckingaga, and has for no reason other than the irresistible appeal of the trainwreck in progress, been making a half-million a year for the past several years being, essentially, a rich crackwhore wannabe.
And now, she’s failed. At least she got one thing right: if you’re going to have your picture splashed all over the internet for shooting junk with the stranger you bonked senseless and then dragged to the Scientology Celebrity Center hot tub, be sure to be wearing your sponsor’s product. Right above the blood-encrusted bandage on your thigh. Way to stay classy, Miss Ultimo Lingerie!