And now the end is here, and so you face the final curtain, Paris. You sure gave it a good run; no one can take that away from you. The way you've flailed before the American attention span like an epileptic fruit bat has been an inspiration to talentless attention whores everywhere. You announced your arrival with a grainy porn tape, deftly segued to that reality show with Lionel Richie's miscarriage, then on to the failed music career, the failed movie career, the failed modeling career, the failed cheeseburger spokesperson career. It's been a wild, well-tweeted ride and America has no one to blame but itself. But no matter how much America loves its idiots, Andy's fifteen minutes waits for no one.
Look we know it's hard, you're getting pretty manic as the clock nears 15:00 and attention withdrawal is making you do desperate things. We thought that helicopter video of you on the balcony was particularly telling. Wasn't there a knife wielding stalker loose somewhere on your property? Why the fuck were you traipsing around on your balcony in a towel? Was it a fluffy Kevlar towel? A normal person would stay inside when there's a nutcase outside, but apparently not needy socialites on their way down.
That came on the heels of your outrage at being photographed topless while vacationing on a yacht in St. Tropez. First...vacationing from what? Second, nice "outrage". We haven't seen pictures that posed since McCain warmly embraced the Palins. The whole thing was a valiant effort but since you began your career with a porno tape, who do you think would be titillated by some long distance shots of you topless. Seriously, eat something. All that was missing was a fly dancing across your eyeball and a Sally Struthers voiceover to get us pumped for some hardcore famine relief.
Desperate times call for skanky measures, and we like your latest ploy the best. The whole cocaine in my purse plus it's not my purse plus I thought it was gum maneuver in Vegas last week. Just awesome. Mainly because it's such a mash up of the greats. You threw in a dash of the rampant partying and drug use of Lindsey Lohan and mixed it with the inbred stupidity of Jessica "Chicken of the Sea'" Simpson. We respect a good homage. All that was missing was a passel of adopted African orphans and a good old fashion cop slap...
Which brings us to our advice, Paris. Don't worry so much. Even though no one is paying attention anymore, and you're about to turn thirty. Thirty being the tipping point when vacuous party girls begin to learn that being old, dumb and full of cum doesn't have quite the same ring to it. As they slowly emerge from the nightclubs that have masked their inability to hold a conversation with deafening music...well lets just say things have a tendency to go all Whatever Happened to Baby Jane in a hurry. If you want to avoid being the subject of Grey Gardens II then we suggest you study the career of your predecessor... the one and only Zsa Zsa Gabor.
Zsa Zsa was the original Paris: marginal talent, insatiable need for attention - did a few bad movies, sang a bit but mainly earned her bones by making a general nuisance of herself and descending into self-parody. Dahhhling, you should have slapped that zilly police officer! The nine marriages didn't hurt either. Zsa Zsa carried on like the Hungarian Liz Taylor. Hell, she was even married to Paris' great-grandfather Conrad Hilton (He's easy to pick out; he's the Hilton who did something.) Zsa Zsa didn't let being talentless stop her. She found a way to get her attention fix: game shows. Game shows are your future, Paris. You have just as little talent as your ex-great grandmother-in-law. Why should you be denied a thrilling career as a "personality" on daytime game shows? The thing to do is get someone to restart Hollywood Squares, Password and Match Game. You could work up an adorable shtick where you ask your little rat terrier for the answer and...Boom, you've easily bought yourself another eight years of people staring at you. Circle gets the square, bitch! The only other option is to get an education and make something of your life. We know...ew. That's not hot.™
Dr. Negativo and Hatred McArson