Hey chaps, did you hear the news? Some bimbo got robbed in Paris.

There is so much about this one particular story that makes someone like me want to cackle with evil delight- the identity of the person who got mugged, the fact that a whole bunch of her bling got stolen, the fact that the assailants dressed up as French police, the very high probability that the perps were Mormons… er, wait, not Mormons, what’s that other nutty cult of fundamentalist fruitcakes whose name starts with an M? Moose Limbs??! Something like that?

You lot can fill in the blanks there, I’m sure.

Look, in all seriousness, I am in fact glad that the, er, “lady” in question was unharmed. Contrary to popular perception, I am not in fact that big an ass as to wish actual physical harm on even the most vapid and slutty starlets. And I sincerely hope that she takes this opportunity to reflect on the fact that she was very fortunate to get away with just getting a whole bunch of her shit stolen.

Just goes to show, though, that if you insist on flaunting your wealth along with pictures of your rack- because you don’t have much by way of talents other than a (really very impressive) knack for self-promotion, then you might as well have painted a giant flaming bulls-eye right onto your own ample arse.