Of course she wasn’t playing by herself, guys. Someone was spiking the ball into the ground so she could show off her cleavage canyon. Someone was taking pictures. And I’m pretty sure those someones aren’t real friends or anything, because come on. Yesterday was Tuesday. It was a school day. All of her friends were probably sitting in science class or something while she frolicked on the beach in a tutu and no—oh my God no—Lucite stripper heels.
Anyway, she wasn’t wearing them at least while she “played.” When she flipped her bike over in the sand and began “working” on it, she put the heels back on, because I’m sure it’s much easier to fix a bicycle while wearing heels that sink six inches into the sand and pin you to the ground than it would be to wear, you know, nothing at all. Gotta keep yourself grounded somehow while repairing those pesky, unpredictable bikes, you know?
One thing’s for sure—Courtney Stodden isn’t going away anytime soon, and knowing that is like having a big, pink, fluffy, feathery pillow of job security. Because when girl here turns eighteen, can you imagine the f-ckery she’ll be engaging in? Can you just imagine what kind of photos we’re going to be privy to in just a few short months? It’s going to be bananas, guys. Total bananas.