It's not working so well anymoreIf only she'd stop sticking it in the air every time she sees a camera. Nothing says "desperate" like wagging your barely-clad tail in the air as you straddle a beach lounge. So ... classy.
Yet alone she remains. That little blurb you read about John Mayer texting her and not getting a reply? Not likely. The one about her drunk-dialing him probably is, but you don't see him anywhere on this beach, do you? That little tidbit about her hooking up with Gerard Butler in Toronto might be true (I said might), but he's nowhere to be found either. Is her publicist on strike?
Why does this very shapely, very rich, very tan woman have trouble keeping a guy longer than her vacations? Could it be that she's not such a nice person? That she's only concerned with her own feelings and comfort? Or is it deeper than that? Look into her eyes, if she ever rights herself. Those are the eyes of one bitter bitch. Wonder what she'll do when she pisses through all her Friends money. Yes, I know I always say that, but it won't last forever. Not at the rate she spends it.
