Thursday, July 20, 2006

If I Were A (Karen) Carpenter, And You Were A Lady

Gee, what a surprise! Nicole Richie fainted dead away from starvation while shopping--at Kitson, of course. From Jeannette Walls' "Scoop" on MSNBC:
Did Nicole Richie take that phrase “shop until you drop” too seriously?

The super-skinny reality show star reportedly fainted while doing a little retail therapy. Richie — who has admitted that she’s too thin but has denied that she has an eating disorder — collapsed while browsing at Kitson, a chic LA boutique, on July 15, according to Life & Style.

“She was looking through a rack of clothes when she suddenly fainted and hit the floor,” an “eyewitness” told the mag. “The staff helped her to a chair and offered her something to eat. She shot back, ‘No!’ and mumbled something about it being ‘so hot.’” Although Richie turned away food, she did accept a glass of water, reports the mag, and after about 20 minutes “was steady enough to leave.”

I hope to God that wasn't a sparkling water they forced down Nicole's throat--some of those have sodium, which can cause bloat. A girl's got to watch her figure, after all...

I keed, I keed.

Ye gods, woman! When the act of moving your arm across a rack of "Team Aniston" t-shirts causes a physical collapse, it's time to eat a carb. I hate that whole "just eat a sandwich" thing that people say in these situations, because anorexia (not to mention "partying") is more complicated than that, but maybe your family should at least put you in a hospital, where they could, uh, make you eat a sandwich or something.



And don't give me that "it's the heat" stuff, lady. It's 101 degrees at midnight here in Texas, and no one at Felt Up HQ has fainted lately, and we don't have central A/C! I'm pretty sure the only thing that could make me faint--heatwave and all--would be the arrival of Ed McMahon and the Publisher's Clearing House crew at my door step, the creation of The Nude Javier Bardem School of Spanish in my neighborhood, or someone handing me a free gift certificate for personal jazz dance lessons from Liza Minelli. Yep, any of those things would probably do it. Or, say, not eating for about two years...

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