At a certain indeterminable point in the future, I predict a collosal breakdown for one Katy Perry. After all, one doesn’t spend that much time generating a facade without succombing to sheer exhaustion and just deciding to let it all go to hell. Yet I digress, for the important thing here is that Katy’s tits travelled all the way to Mexico City for a lunch of her fragrance, “Purr,” and here’s the Moral of the Non-Story: When showing off your entire rack to sell a crappy perfume, always justify the exposure by pairing the tits with a fetching Jesus wrist tattoo.