We reported that you turned 30 this morning, but gosh darn it — you’re so special we’re going to say it again: Happy Birthday! Thirty is a milestone age, and it’s natural for someone as introspective and thoughtful as yourself to eschew celebration in favor of stoic contemplation. Don’t! You’re the best!
Look what you have accomplished so far: you’re a model, an actress, a television actress, a clothing designer, a perfumer, a hair extension marketer, a cobbler, a club promoter, a Carnival float leader, a singer, and a cheeseburger saleswoman.
You’ve also written a book, but books are stupid and make us want to barf.
No one in history has accomplished more than you have by the time they turned 30. Sure, Alexander the Great conquered the civilized world by that age, but did he and his BFF ever artificially inseminate a cow on The Simple Life?
Thomas Edison patented electromagnets, the electrographic vote-recorder, printing telegraphs, electric telegraphs, duplex telegraphs and the automatic electrical switch before he turned 30 years old. He also tried to patent the term, “That’s hot.”
Wait a second, that last one was you! And we sure as hell have said, “That’s hot” a gazillion times more than we’ve used an electrographic vote-recorder.
So go out and party, Paris. God knows you deserve it. But if you’re going to get drunk at a club and smoke pot on the drive home tonight, please hit us. It would be amazing for our rep.