Sh-t on the sidewalk
Was at Sundance 2 years ago. It was super fun. Because, like all super fun trips, the company made the difference. Laura and I had the best time hating on the poseurs.
No doubt, Sundance attracts major stars. Absolutely.
But among all the film festivals, Sundance is also the worst for poseurs. Maybe it’s a geographical thing. The festival consists literally of 2 square blocks. You can’t get away from them. Poseurs famous and non famous, they cruise Main Street in their pink parkas and stilettos clinging to douchebags with diamond studs in their ears, a parade of losers and their skanktwats limping along in fresh white kicks who don’t know the difference between a short film and a full length feature. This is why Sundance inevitably becomes loathsome. One of my besties Dylan is there right now, his second year in a row, and he’s about to commit suicide. Then again, Dylan is also quitting smoking and has become almost evangelical about it so there may be more behind his misery but I digress.
The point is Sundance is littered with trash.
Ebola Hilton goes every year for no apparent reason.
And as you can see, Denise Richards has arrived too, although unlike Ebola, Denise’s employment history could actually be quite useful at Sundance. Prostitution exists everywhere, right? Really… what else could she do?
And who the f-ck is watching her show?
Denise is presumably in town to film segments for her reality programme. She took a stroll down the sidewalk begging to be photographed. Somehow she managed to run into Pierce Brosnan reminding us all that she was the worst Bond Girl in history. And then she tried snowboarding, dressed in red to make sure the paps could find her – the ultimate objective? To offer services to a foreign producer wealthy and dumb enough to make her his full time concubine.
Girls like Denise, they always end up where they begin.
Photos from Wenn.com and Splashnewsonline.com