It must really suck to be Paris Hilton. Surrounded by people whose probably quite lucrative jobs consist of doing her thinking for her — and yet who are apparently incapable of using words small enough for her to understand. Yes, the curse of the working class.The curse of the working class is the ruling class – or those who think they belong to such a thing.
This weekend I’m giving a presentation at a MENSA Regional Gathering. I have never tested for the high IQ club, so it’s entirely possible that I’m just as mentally alert and capable as famous-for-being-famous socialite/heiress/whateverthehellsheis Paris Hilton. She, through the grace of god and the dumb luck of a chaotic universe is quite wealthy. I, for some reason unfathomable to rational minds, am not.
Yet.
When I am rich, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will never need to be reminded that 11:00pm is a good time to have the headlights of my car turned on, especially if I’m driving with a suspended license. Not being able to remember this simple survival fact would – among other things — be a clear sign that no amount of testing would likely get me into MENSA as a member. It would also seem to be the kind of reprehensibly irresponsible behavior ideally suited for a wee bit of jail time and an extended period of sobriety.
Ms. Hilton, however, apparently lives in a magical kingdom where such simple rules of a non-homo/sui-cidal society do not apply to her. Her publicist told her she could drive for “work related” purposes while her license was suspended for a previous DUI. Logically, using Paris Hilton style logic, of course, “work related” purposes includes blasting down the street at 70 MPH at 11:00pm in a Bentley with its headlights off.
What does Paris Hilton do for “work” again?
A reassuringly small number of Hollywood beautiful people and fans who can’t seem to follow the whole “blasting down the street at 70 MPH at 11:00pm in a Bentley with its lights off” part of her transgression, agree with poor Paris she shouldn’t have to risk peeing in front of another jailchick for 45 days while watching her roots grow out, because being denied her extensions, her make-up kit, and her gourmet meals – as well as possibly being exposed to “very masculine lesbian” inmates is just “cruel and unwarranted.” After all, even her mom says “she’s eccentric, she’s herself and she never hurts anybody.”
Well, she hasn’t yet, but that may be because yet another police officer pulled her over – and not just to ask for her phone number.
A Hilton-authorized internet petition being circulated in the hopes of pressuring Governator Arnold Schwarzenegger into freeing the misunderstood famine chic femme contends that the star of The Simple Life and 1 Night in Paris provides “beauty and excitement to (most of) our otherwise mundane lives,” and thus should be free to beautify and excite the streets of Hollywood and not merely the corridors of a depressingly un-“hot” Los Angeles jail.
Well, lemme tell you, if I want “beauty and excitement” in my “otherwise mundane” life I certainly don’t hunt up Paris Hilton. Or Britney Spears. Or Nicole Richie. Or even Lindsay Lohan, for that matter. I don’t need to giggle behind my hands at the ever-so-naughty panty-free snatch flashes of Hilton’s latest passing whimsy. I don’t need to check to see what kind of shoes Ms. Hilton is wearing once and then promptly forgetting that she owns. And I certainly don’t need to listen to her protest her lily white post-Rick Salomon ball licking innocence.
Who fucking cares?
If I want “beauty and excitement” in my “otherwise mundane” life I have plenty of far more entertaining and engaging places to find it. All of the other beautiful and exciting things happening in my life aside, I work in the porn industry – where the men and women who fuck and frolic in front of a camera don’t pout and play the victim once the press finds out; where we understand the concept of responsibility because we have tons of paperwork to fill out, blood tests to take, and the DoJ breathing down our collective throats. We may not all be MENSA members – although some of us are – but most of us are smart enough to keep our damn fool mouths shut if we get caught blasting down the street at 70 MPH at 11:00pm in our non-Bentleys with our headlights off.
Maybe it’s true that Paris is, as her mother ever-so-euphemistically explains, “vulnerable,” – but that just seems ever-so-much-more a reason to say, “Paris Hilton: Shut the fuck up.”
Now, go to jail like a good girl and write a tell-all book while you’re there. You can ask your handlers for help with the big words.
