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Perhaps only one thing could strike more fear in our hearts than a hungover movie exec working out the stress of a failed Sundance bidding war by barrelling down a mountain on a snowboard: Paris Hilton working out the stress of haunting the gifting suites by barreling down a mountain (and probably trailed by a Greek shipping billionaire, a chihuahua, and a monkey on matching snowboards). A reader snapped Hilton taking a break from gathering bags full of free cellphones and doing slalom shots on Main Street, and offered this report:

Paris Hilton was at the Canyons "skiing" with her boyfriend aristotle or stavros (or something greek) with natty ski rentals and a huge pink outfit. According to one friend of mine who was right by her at the ski lockers, she was trying to shove quarters in a locker that was already taken and had no key. (That's hot.)

She took the gondola after us, in private with her boyfriend (who's easy to miss cuz he's in snow camou), and when they got out a brilliant whiff of pot smoke wafted over us like snow falling gently on cedars.


Anyway, I asked her for a picture and she declined in not so many words (or rather, in no words at all, cuz all she did was look down, and then turn around) and apparently said to nikos "i don't want to get that started now" Well, here's some news Paris: you're about 5 years too late!

So I took a picture anyway, to the embarrassment and horror of all my poor friends who had to pretend they didn't know me.

But now they all want the picture, so isn't it great I lacked any sense of dignity at the time?