I’m not really sure who this Paz person is, other than he lives in Hollywood (I think) and he has an acoustic guitar and a hoodie in his pic, so he’s probably either a huge hipster or Justin Bieber from the future. Actually, throw out that last theory because unlike Biebs, this guy actually has balls: He crashed Paris Hilton‘s 30th birthday party, stole her cake, and then bragged about it on the Internet!
“Hey man,” I say to him with an air of I-know-what-I’m-doing. “The cake is in that room, right?” “Yes, sir,” he acknowledges with a slight bow toward the rear of the house. I take my cue and make a bullet for cake city. In one fluid motion, I sidestep a confused waiter, seize the prize, and about face to the door. I pass the security chief again on the way out. I nod purposefully … he nods in return. 40 seconds later I’m in the front seat of a Nissan Maxima with 70 lbs. of awesome in my lap. Success. As the sun rises, I crash hard. In the morning, I’ll awake to an interesting surprise in the den. It’s red. It’s delicious. And I don’t know WTF I’m going to do with it. SOURCE
As awesome as this story is, a lot of it sort of confuses me. I mean, who would make a 70 lb. cake for Paris Hilton? It’s not like she would eat anything with carbs in it, and God knows she wouldn’t deign to give food to the “peasants”. Also, Paris Hilton is only thirty? THIRTY? Why does it feel like her time on this Earth has been so much fucking longer?