Here’s yet another pic of Paris out doing whatever the hell it is she does with most of her waking life. But in this one, there’s something’ different about her. Ah, yes’that’s it. Or, for the grammar nazis out there, those are they. Either Paris has strapped herself into the most high-pressure Wonderbra permitted by law, or she’s gone out and bought herself a pair of shiny new fake boobs.

Look, I know I’m in the minority here, but the Chesty LaRue look does absolutely nothing for me. One of the very, very few things I liked about Paris was the fact that she hadn’t traded in her small but perfectly attractive bosom for a couple of factory-issue salinahonkers. So now I’m torn. On the one hand, I’ll be sorry if she’s replaced her natural breasts with these boring, vulgar, fake gazongas. On the other hand, boring and vulgar is a lot more consistent with everything else about Paris, and I’d have two additional reasons to despise her. On balance, I should probably thank her for making my life that much simpler.