Fuggica Fugson

It’s no surprise Jessica Simpson is navigating these stairs with such white-knuckled trepidation.

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

I’m pleased to see that she’s not wearing Daisy Dukes all the time, presumably a phase she’s out of now that her country career is dead (or mostly dead, but in a way even Miracle Max can’t cure), but: HEM YOUR PANTS, CHILD. You’ll thank me when you’re no longer in mortal fear of tripping on them, slipping, and splitting open your lip. Which would ALSO be a problem for you because then everyone would try to claim it happened during a fight with Tony Romo or something, and in coming out to deny it, you’d end up giving about ten more interviews in which you say that he’s the one and you want to have his tiny babies — and that means he’ll probably break up with you when pre-season football ends. So, see, you’re saving yourself a bloody mouth and a nasty breakup if you’d just shorten those bastards, okay?