It’s not, is it? Take poor Paris Hilton for example. She’s got a new show called Life According To Paris or Paris Hilton is a Vacuous Whorebag and Whinges About Shit or something and only 400,000-odd people even bothered to tune in. Then she got grilled by Barabara Walters and, well, you can see where this is heading. She’s going to have to leak another drug-addled sex video, but this time featuring midgets or something.
*Less of THIS
Poor Paris. What is the world coming to when no one wants exclusive access to the empty vagueries of your life and/or your knicker drawer? But Paris, let’s talk. You blew it (literally). You gave them all too much too soon. We’ve seen your wax job as you step out of a car, we’ve seen you banging what’s-his-name, we’ve seen you with cocaine all over your nose, we’ve seen you put in jail. You have a choice. Retire gracefully for a while, do some acting classes and return with a slightly better B-Grade movie and some kind of contraversial boyfriend who is about 20 years older than you or push the envelope.
*And more of THIS
I’m talking dancing ponies, sex with minors, murdering someone, Court TV. You look great in orange. You can cry at will. What’s not to like? No one wants to see your gusset or watch you kissing girls anymore. And D & Ms with your Mum? Nope. We want the real Paris; one who knows her way around a chainsaw. One who shoplifts and orders executions. One who eats a bowl of melted cheese then vomits it up again. Let’s get real Paris. Give the people what they want or fuck off and die. Cos your funeral will surely get heaps of press coverage.