2011 isn’t three days old yet, but that hasn’t stopped Kim Kardashian and her people from launching a media blitzkrieg to convince you she’s suddenly a pop star. Because between diet pill promotions, reality show tapings and cellulite shock treatments, she somehow found the time to become a musician and record a new single which she debuted in Vegas on New Year’s Eve (after the jump). And by debut I mean made a DJ play an auto-tuned copy over the house speakers because Kim never strays from the Paris Playbook, and the Paris Playbook explicitly says, “No touring or live performances lest the poor deduce you’re some cunt with a sex tape who thinks she can sing now.” (Its words, not mine.)
That said, I love how this thing is so unoriginal it doesn’t even have a name yet. I’ll be amazed if they focus-group it and the title doesn’t come back, “Vanilla.” Not that it matters considering anyone who thinks her reality show is a true story already pre-ordered enough copies to knit a quilt out of which is exactly why I was against letting the retarded have debit cards. “But they need to do things on their own,” everyone said. Well, those “things” should stop at bagging my groceries, not funding an Armenian cabal hell-bent on birthing their own NBA team. Those mongoloids deserve better than that, the poor, dim-witted bastards. They can only have sex by hiring hookers, you know? Sure, it sounds fun and glamorous and why I talked with a stutter all last year, but that shit still costs money. Kim.