Paris is an artist. Don't you try to tell her she isn't. She'll draw you so fast you won't know whether it was with a number 2 or a mechanical pencil. She had some time to kill in jail. As it has been the case with so many artists and writers before her, being behind bars inspired artistic inclinations to cross over into true genius. Think Dostoevsky. Think Caravaggio. And then...look to the left:
Oh Paris. None of us would've have seen this fantastical side of you if you hadn't violated your probation. Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my and the rest of the world's heart.
In other news, I was walking across the Burnside bridge at the veritable break of dawn. On the downtown side there was a row of homeless folk all wrapped up in their comforters like sausages just waking up to a brand new day. One lady was ahead of the rest. She'd already gotten up...adjusted her clothes...and went to store her bedding...under a large orange construction cone. As she stuffed everything into the cone, her pants fell down. This is beside the point, but worth noting.
Anyway. I've been worrying about her things all day. There's been construction on that bridge for about a year now, but it's constantly switching sides. What if she goes into the Rescue Mission for a little breakfast and comes back out to discover that some dude has accidentally absconded with what little she has in the world all because they happened to move the cones to the west side of the bridge. I suppose she could just walk to to the other side to find them...but how will she know which cone is her locker cone?
I have to go back that way after work...I'll check out the situation then. Until then...I fret.
20 keep(s) me blogging:
Wow. I never knew Paris was so incredibly talented. That and rich and popular and hot. She's the total package. Now I know who to make as my new role model, but only if I can imagine her in prison jumpsuit orange all the time.
When I saw the beginning subject of this blog I was going to continue with my stupid commenting theme but the last half caught my attention. There is so much going on around us and walking to work really brings it home, you are literally on eye level with the unfortunates. I hope she found her cone, it's going to be pretty cool outside tonight. Now you have stereo fretting. Maybe you could drop off a belt for her when you walk by tomorrow. It's not that warm out, she needs her pants up.
Aww... she even put little hearts on top of all the "I"'s. Reminds me of the way I used to write... in 6th grade.
Ha! At first, I was amazed that she actually spelled everything right, and then I found the error - "it's reputation" = "it is reputation" which makes no sense UNLESS that's just a stray mark and not an apostrophe. But I won't give Paris the benefit of the doubt.
Now I get to be all proud of myself.
Is that a self portrait? I think Paris imagines herself to have bigger eyes and longer hair than she actually does.
The cone situation worries me. The authorities should dig more manholes for homeless people to hide their stuff in.
i am also fretting. we will need an update, lady.
paris is officially my false idol.
Tragic. How'd the homeless lady situation turn out? I'm glad I have closets.
Judging by Paris' drawing she's really generic. Something that box stores like Wal-Mart and Walgreens easily duplicate. Ahhh Narcissism. What a circular product...no idea where I was going with all dat.
Now for the more significant issue: I hope you helped or will help that lady somehow.
My gosh, Paris. She's just a little ahead of the Short on artwork. And he's 6.
As for the lady, do keep us posted.
Oh dear lord, somebody please please PLEASE tell me she did not actually draw a picture and send it to TMZ. My niece and nephew draw pictures for me sometimes, but they're 3 and 5.
I suppose they put it up on the fridge in the employee break room.
Wow, Paris. Quelle artiste, who knew she had it in her? It's obvious that she must have spent years perfecting the contour line-drawing technique and exaggerated proportions so often exhibited in the Mannerist style of the fourteenth century. Bronzino, eat your heart out.
Would that I could express my admiration in a font with heart-dotted i's. Alas...
Poor cone lady. She should really learn to put her valuables in a safer location, such as under a mailbox or a lunch cart. Let's hope she at least thought to bring her spare underwares with her.
I don’t like using the word “retarded.” I think there are more considerate ways of describing the chaos inside that woman-child’s head. Bedlam comes to mind, and retarded, I think I’ll just go with retarded.
By the way, Jilly and I were sitting at a red light last weekend. It was an intersection within rock throwing distance of a large multi-lane underpass where church services are held for our local homeless folks every weekend. I looked to my right and saw a homeless person walking towards our car, waving her hands frantically in front of her face. It was late morning but already well over ninety degrees with a heavy layer of humidity hanging thick in the air. It turns out she was fanning herself furiously in an effort to cool down. The confusing element, the thing that took a few seconds to process, was her right udder hanging outside her dress, flapping like a flag in a hurricane. Ironically, she was wearing a moo moo, or muumuu, I’m not sure of the correct spelling, but it was ironic nonetheless.
cordia - welcome! and i'm' sure she'll be doing some sort of charity fashion even where all orange jumpsuit-inspired fashion will be rolling down the runway to raise money for digital cable for the "rec" room at Lynwood.
future - i'm fairly certain she'll find a way to secure them. she seemed crafty
thinker - paris doesn't need editing. she's a published authoress...you don't tell her. no one tells her.
goranas - this might be a "with extensions" picture. she may not be allowed to have them in prison...but she's allowed to imagine she has them. i agree on the manhole thing. put them in a row like lockers.
macoosh - worshipping false idols? not the path to heaven, my friend. i still need to get your addy. i'll email.
sarah - i know. closest are often overlooked and underappreciated. i haven't seen her or the cone again so maybe they ran away together.
ax - aw ax, don't be like that...i mean...that's a REALLY good phone.
nic - well at some point i'm sure he'll surpass her in both talent and height. isn't that comforting?
jill - oh i'll tell you. i can't not tell you. i mean. it's there. i can't not tell you when it's actually THERE. you know? i wonder what TMZ's breakroom is like. s'pose it's starubucks coffee like here?
waif - we have to trust that the cone lady has stored her bedding enough in her life to have a fairly good idea of ideal locations. we just have to trust her. there's nothing more we can do.
slag - was it a short mumu or a low cut mumu? i'm trying to figure out the logistics. and...it's 'mumu'.
I had to think about your question a bit before I caught on. I guess it could have been a short mumu, reminiscent of Miss Chokesondick in South Park. But no, it was cut dangerously low for a person of her physical properties. It was over the top she spilled.
What in the flying fuck is that about!
I bet Halloween 2K7 will bring us way too many sporting the Paris in jail costume.
What's with this one-blog-post-a-week nonsense? I demand more freqent blog posts, young lady!
And more frequent ones, too!
Hitler wrote Mein Kampf in prison...
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