It's pretty clear by now that Paris Jackson doesn't like bras. And, as it turns out, neither do we. The pixieish blonde teen has suddenly become a very prominent and recurring figure in the Los Angeles shopping and lunching and tattooing scene, most notably noticed by her unbound udders and those pierced nipples beneath her sheer tops. She's not hiding. All the easier for granny to ogle you with, Red Riding Hood.
Paris Jackson dumped her idiot unemployed band playing boyfriend in lieu of what she calls a commitment to learning acting. Whatever excuse you need, you don't need a deadbeat drummer. It's time to find love in a smoking, inked out, bad boy closer to your own age. Or perhaps a pasty white blogger with moderate to poor grammatical skills in the one language he knows. Just a suggestion. We both obviously share a love of going commando. Enjoy.
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