Paris Hilton -- the reigning queen of nothing was, of course a part of the always-classy VMA's on Thursday. But for those of us who love what she really brings to the table, the daily episode of "Paris Must Be Stopped" didn't start until about 4:30 in the AM.

New York City -- The gorgeous and the hungry know that a strong city night is usually punctuated with a very late/ very early stop at the downtown eatery Cafeteria. So, as those of us whose parents don't own a chain of luxury hotels wait on line, Paris Hilton strolled right into the spot.

Did I say "strolled"? Make that stumbled. There were lots of celebs on hand, as Diddy was in the house and Damon Wayans was making the rounds.But nobody finds a way, except maybe Lindsay Lohan, to ass it up like our heroine.

Long story short - Paris appeared bombed. She danced around, doing the Mailbu Rum Two Step from fab to fab. She eventually got by our party, and one of my co-horts greeted her with a sincere "Hello Paris", which was promptly ignored, or possibly not recognized.

Now, we received no salutation, however her mouth was kind of to give us something to remember her by. We did not witness any frankfurters present, but Paris had the worst hot-dog breath I've ever detected, even after a double-header at Shea. It was RANK. So it turns out my first meeting with the simple Simple Life-r did not disappoint.

The Hilton legacy marches on.

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