We're just going to come right out and say it: Kim Kardashian doesn't make sense.
We've seen her on TV, rolling her hair and, occasionally, boxing. We've seen her roll through town in rides that cost more than the average two-bedroom condo in mid-level retirement villages. And we've rolled our eyes as we've watched Kim launch her perfumes and reality shows and naked naughtybits at America (both in print and on "secret" home video). And yet, we've never fully understood the draw.
Is she pretty? Damn skippy. Stunning, even. But pretty is a dime a dozen among 20somethings.
Is she wealthy? Well, between her father, her boyfriend, and her sports icon-turned-plastic surgery victim of a stepfather, she's not hurting. But then, she's no Paris Hilton. Or Tinsley Mortimer, for that matter.
So we're left wondering, how has KK become a persistent, one-woman swarm of well-coiffed locusts on the cultural landscape? Is it solely because she's a ruthless self-promoter, a famewhore of the first-degree? Take a good look at that photo of her behind the wheel of a delectable Maserati GranCabrio, and you tell us. And if that doesn't explain it, check this other photo of Kimmy on her Blackberry, checking out sexy photos -- OF HERSELF. We haven't seen that much self-love since...well, since the aforementioned home video.
While KK continues her downward spiral into Anna Nicole Smithland, we're going to take a long hot shower and pray that someone is talking to Bee Shaffer about launching a reality show of her own very, very soon.