I like to think of Nicole Richie as a blank canvas. A skinny blank canvas that I would paint with various shades of hamburger and french fries and chicken wings until she was back to normal size, when she does look rather fetching. I could make this happen, stuffing some Reuben sandwiches, maybe some Haagen Dazs chocolate spoonfuls into her mouth even as we make passionate, albeit careful not to damage her, sweet love upon her rented yacht. Give me six months and she’ll pack on 20 lbs. and likely another child.
But, for the time being, skinny Nicole was parked off the coast in Cannes, in a gold bikini which makes sense for that part of the world, delighting in water sports and generally taking a break from her rigorous life of working out, shopping, and her AOL reality TV series and the seventeen members of her viewing audience she must please weekly. I’m still leering at Nicole Richie, but step two definitely involves a trip to Carl’s Jr. where my guy Ricky will still make me one of those Cap ‘n Crunch milkshakes they abandoned last year when nutrition oriented groups said maybe it wasn’t so healthy to serve a drink with 8,000 calories packed into it. Enjoy.