 WE ARE THE WORLD, PARIS HILTON MORE SO
As you may have heard, Paris Hilton is a lazy fuckwhore who doesn't do a whole lot for a living and has a history of misunderstandings regarding the appropriate blood alcohol level needed to properly operate a motor vehicle. These misunderstandings led to a jail sentence that may have violated her Fourteenth Amendment rights and definately caused virtually everyone else to act like retards.
As is the case in every celebrity fuck-up of any consequence, Ms. Hilton then began what proved to be a short-lived effort at public rehabilitation. This involved going on Larry King Live and proving little other than she should be incarcerated for stupidity and narcissim. Paris somehow thought that she was something other than a collection of warm holes and a deep wallet, thereby making it of some consequence to us that she pretends to read the Bible. And it really isn't.
She also promised to go to Rwanda and "do good," which might be the single most amusing thing that I heard last year.
Rwanda, as Samantha Power described it, was once "a problem from hell." It was chock full of folks bent on genocide and creative in the most horrific ways of accomplishing it in the not too distant past. The Clinton administration was deeply divided on how, indeed, on if, it should address Rwandan genocide. The International Criminal Court continues to deal with the fallout to this day.
Of course, Paris Hilton - who would be beyond her depth trying to spell "Rwanda" - was going to make it better. The world's foreign policy establishment couldn't, mind you, but someone who parades about in her underpants all day can. Having said that, Madeline Albright and Warren Christopher would have just looked silly negotiating peace in crotchless panties. That's not to say that they didn't have their own unique brand of sexual magnetism, though.
But Rwanda's still a pretty fucking scary place, and Paris tried her damndest to be nowhere more frieghtening than Rick Soloman's bedroom. So instead she went to South Africa with her boyfriend's faggoty band, Good Charlotte.
I bring this up because my heroic archivist has brodened his interests beyond his most important one (that being me) and started a non-skippy blog that addresses the importance of Paris in Africa.
Where there's genocide, there's usually warlords. And where there's warlords there's priviledged warlords' bastard children who enjoy a lifestyle not too different from what Paris is famous for. So it's not clear exactly what Paris brings to the table that they don't already have there.
On the other hand, third-world warlord heiresses are not known for making fuck-tapes of themselves with night-vision. Maybe if they did more of that over there, the economy would boom and the warring factions would all join hands. Maybe Paris is the New Hope for Africa. Luke has forgotten something else that's commonly known in African war zones: cannibalism. Idi Amin is known to have engaged in it and Charles Taylor is on trial for ordering it as I write this. In certain circles, it isn't enough to merely defeat, humiliate or even kill your enemies. To be truly victorious, you must consume their fucking flesh!
Ms. Hilton might not be aware of this because she probably can't even find Paris on a map, but she could get her ass eaten over there. And not even in the loving, yet sexily sardonic way that I'd do it. I'm saying that she could actually have her butt hacked off with a machete, fried in a skillet, and actually eaten.
Paris might think that two DUIs and an unjust sentence makes some kind of syphlitic Sally Struthers, but even Sally Struthers wasn't that stupid. Sally visited only the shitty parts of Africa and gave the truly psychotic ones a wide bearth. And the kids in her goddamned commercials were screened. Only the ones with flies directly proportional in size to their eyes got to the Craft Services table.
Not that any of this matters. The chances of Paris and her homo boyfriend leaving their posh Capedown digs are somewhere between slim and my having a 32-foot long wang. I'm just hoping that when she returns to America, she goes back on Larry King Live and moans about the tragedy of Africa, citing the room service at the Johannesburg Marriott as just one example.
Unfortunately, I know as a moral certainty that everyone is going to miss the two real tragedies that Paris's trip should be drawing attention to:
- Skinny, slutty girls with lots of money get venerial diseases, too.
- There are far too few people out there with blogs dedicated entirely to me and my many acts of wonderfulness.
Won't you please help? Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: The Meek Shall Inherit Nothing By: Frank Zappa From: You Are What You Is Permalink Labels: Celebrity Skin, The Girls In My Life
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