All things golden must eventually come to an end, and I don’t just mean a stream of urine, even though we’re talking about Kim Kardashian here. Page Six says

While Kim was filming in Miami with sister Kourtney, [boyfriend] Reggie Bush hit the city’s hottest clubs [and] “made friends with some of the girls who were all dancing on his table around 2 a.m. He offered one of the girls a lemon-drop shot,” a spy said. On Friday, Reggie rolled into Greenhouse at 3 a.m. to join Tichina Arnold and Nicole Murphy [and] stayed “flirting with girls” until closing time.

That doesn’t mean they’re broken up. In fact, that doesn’t mean shit. He’s a football player and he’s black, right? It’s not like baby mommas grow on trees! A guy’s got to be proactive if he wants a passel of hood rats constantly clamoring for child support. I’m sure he’ll find time to secure an illegal weapons charge and orchestrate dog fight somewhere down the road. One thing at a time, people. Really.

UPDATE: Star Magazine just confirmed that the two DID in fact break up over the weekend. Fascinating stuff.

Outtakes from Kim’s 2010 calendar shoot:

Kim Kardashian posed for yet another sexy but pointless photoshoot last weekend and posted the pics on her official website, saying

I love this one in the silver sequin drape! I didn’t know what we wanted out of this look but it feels very Venus water goddess to me!

Water goddess, indeed. But I bet without the mustache wax and the Lady Bic, Kim Kardashian would look more like a water buffalo. Armenians are freakin’ hairy.

More “goddess” pics, plus some of her arriving at at STK restaurant with her family:

PHOTO CREDIT: Pacific Coast News Online

Kim Kardashian has already begun shooting her new 2010 calendar in Mexico, posting some of the candids from the photoshoot on her official website over the weekend. What’s odd about the pictures is that she made a point off concealing her ass in almost every one of the shots. Really, what the fuck is that about? Her ass is the only reason she’s famous in the first place. It’s like painting braces on Mona Lisa’s smile or a bra on Pamela Anderson. Some might even call it blasphemy.