According to the interview, Christina "revealed that she was in the driveway of her Beverly Hills home when she heard someone at her security gate and found a desperate Robert trying to escape from the paps. Apparently he asked if he could come in and hide out for a few hours and when he left, the pop star allegedly went out first and drew the paparazzi away!"
My poor, poor RPattz... he must have so scared, having nearly been stampeded by those big mean, nasty paparazzi ass lickers. This just makes it more apparent to me that he would greatly benefit from my securtiy services. I know what you're thinking... I'm not a very menacing presence. But I have the power to be heavily armed in seconds. And I'm not opposed to pistol whipping a pap or two. Or anyone else who tries to get their filthy paws on the preh-tay for that matter.
Dude, you see my petite, blond bodyguard right behind me staring at my ass? She will fuck your ass up.
I think I would have handled the situation much like my new bff Christina did if RPattz was frantically trying to escape rabid paparazzi in my neck of the woods. I would have invited Mr. Pattinson into my humble
Once I had him properly fed and boozed up nice and loopy on my Heine, I would set about barracading every entrance to my house to keep my husband out. Because he'd just ruin everything. He'd want to know why I had a half-passed-out movie star in handcuffs. (Um, doesn't everybody?) I'd just have to slip a stack of two dollar bills to him through the window and send him on his merry way to the local strip joint. That should shut him up. If this is my one and only shot at the Brit, I'm not letting a little thing like a husband get in the way. Geesh.
And after my husband is well on his way to sticking his face in a stripper's tits, I'm free to put my operation de-Pants the Pattz. Don't worry ladies... I'll be sure to give a full account of my findings, complete with photos and diagrams and photos. It's what happens after the pants come off that will remain a secret. Wha? A lady doesn't fuck and tell... oh who am I kidding? I'd be videotaping that shit (even though I'm sure none of you will ever want to see that sex tape.)
Tell me... if Robert Pattinson just happened to show up on your doorstep in need of asylum from the crazy press, how would you handle it? What special treatment or services would you provide?