Thursday, May 10, 2007

The Boy's in Brazil

or We'll Always Have Paris, God Damn It!

Paris Hilton is going to jail for 45 days? Sweet Heaven! Is there no justice in America? If drunkenly careening about the streets, driving a car with neither licence nor panties is a crime, then I guess we're all guilty! I certainly am! But I ask you, should a famous woman have to go to jail for merely committing a crime? That's a little harsh. It's not like we're criminals. All we've done is commit crimes. Is that a crime now too?

Little Paris Hilton has, rather obviously, never been punished in any way, for any reason whatever, in her entire life. This is as plain as the nose that used to be on her face. There can only be one conceivable reason she has been allowed to pass through Life untouched by correction; she has never done anything wrong in her life. She is perfection in pumps.

This woman brings beauty into the world, generally via contrast. She has made being a drunken, brainless, public, slutty skank the dream of every young girl in America. She's made My Lifestyle "In" again! God Bless her! She can't rot in Oz. When I think of her in the Oz shower room, surrounded by surly lesbians, two armed with broom handles, steam clouds billowing, a single stream of water dripping off a pert, rosy nipple; when I think of that... when I think of that... think of that... think of that ... ... ...

...Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!...

Hello. Who the hell are you? Douglas darling. I'm sorry. I drifted. When did I leave off? Yesterday. Gracious. Well what's in today's news? Hand me that newspaper you're sitting on. You know, if you'd put your pants back on, you wouldn't have to crease up all my newspapers. When I was young, a gentleman generally kept his pants on when working with a lady, unless the lady was working.

Oh look. My darling old friend, Pope Eggs XVI is visiting South America. The thought of adorable Little Pope Eggsie visiting Brazil makes me quite misty, thinking of all the Pope's old pals who live down there, those that still survive. What a stirring, emotional reunion he must be having with colleagues and Aryans he hasn't seen since 1945. I'm getting goose steps just thinking about it. Here's a lovely wire photo of the big reunion at a Brazilian beer hall.

It's not easy to be a celebrity. You try it! (Just kidding. You? Be a celebrity? Oh, I'm enjoying a loud, throaty laugh over that one! I laugh because I love.) The pressure to appear perfect, glamorous, and beautiful at all times, to do your job with the illusion of professionalism, to meet a grueling schedule, and to juggle passionate and filthy sexual affairs with a variety of men or near-men, not to mention being a wife and raising a child, these all seriously cut into your drinking time.

Pope is one of the most media-attention-heavy jobs on earth, right up there with American Idol Judge, and Talentless Entitlement-Mad Rich Bitch, but resilient Little Pope Eggsie has the experience for the job, from all his years as plain old Cardinal Ratzenberger, the wacky religious guy on Cheers, where nobody knew his name was going to be Eggs XVI.

It's been quite a week for International Glamourpussies with gypsy feet; the Pope has been making South America's Protestants' days a joy (Fortunately, they're all tourists.), meanwhile, Helen Mirrin was seen dining with the Bushes. Poor thing. Okay, it was sad in the movie that just when the poor old Queen had finally caught a break, when her disliked, not-good-enough-for-Us daughter-in-law died, she had to be forced by Tony Blair to pretend to be sad about it, completely ruining Diana's death for her!

Diana was lucky! She was only dead. When she was dying in that wrecked car, did she even spend one second thinking about how awful this was going to be for the Queen, let alone, pen a thoughtful apology note to be found on her person? What a selfish bitch Diana was; thinking only of herself, even as she died. And neither Diana nor Liz took a moment to consider how hard Diana's death was on me, or would have been if I'd heard about it at the time. When I finally did hear about it, on a TV special about "The Big Events of Ten Years Ago," I was much taken aback, and sat slack jawed and agape for nearly three minutes. But no apology from the Windsors has ever reached Morehead Heights.

Now, while the scene when the Queen had to cancel the Lady Di's Death Celebratory Family Barbecue at Balmoral Castle was heartbreaking, still, an Oscar? And I might add, that although I know Tony Blair failed to win the other Oscar, which went to some King of Scotland, an even bigger insult, nonetheless, forcing him out of office seems excessively severe to me. It's not like he's Don Imus.

Or is he? Ever seen Tony Blair and Don Imus together? I didn't think so.

Liberate Paris!

Cheers darlings.

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