The news came out yesterday that Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie made up. Thank God! Its been hard watching Nicole battling her eating disorder, struggling with her parent’s divorce, and seeing her endure the highs and lows, up and downs, in and outs of her relationship with her on again off again fiancé DJ someone knowing she was completely friendless. Then there’s Paris coping with the break-up from her long time friend by duking it out with every debutante and quasi celebrity on the club circuit. (If Celebrity Ultimate Fighter ever comes out, I want to see Paris paired with Danny Bonaduce or Tanya Harding. My bets will be on Paris; she’s a wily one.) Thankfully, the fates have intervened and they’re back in each other’s loving embrace ready to tackle another season of “The Simple Life”.
Then there are the Lindsay Lohan’s, Mischa Barton’s, Eva Longoria’s and who could forget America’s sweetheart (so I’m told) Jennifer Anniston. The magazines tell me they’re all important people and claim every belch they make is applause worthy if not cover worthy. From those magazines I’ve also learned that Angelina Jolie is a home wrecking pariah while Owen Wilson is Kate Hudson’s savior. I mean look at them and you can tell – the sultry brunette, obviously up to no good. Wasn’t she married 9 times before, kissed her brother on the lips and sports tattoos? HUSSY! (Saintly Jennifer giggles gumdrops according to the press. I’ve seen them!) In contrast to the hiss hiss home wrecker we have Owen Wilson – a blonde, beach kissed funny guy, riding the white horse to save damsel Kate from a loveless, not-so-fun marriage (according to her friends who wouldn’t be named that testify Chris Robinson is dull).
Congo rape gangs, the atrocities happening in Dafur, human rights violations left and right (to the extent that I can’t list them all)? Who cares! I want to know more about Mel Gibson’s fall from grace. Naughty little anti-semite. I want to be inside the home of one of those slain Amish girls. I mean, it’s not every day the media gets to set foot on their turf. And aren’t they an odd lot? Bonnets, buggies and barn raising. Then they have outlandish notions about forgiveness. – how delightfully quaint. Makes me want to grab one up and hug it.
Serve me my news covered in high glucose corn syrup and a side of sound bites! Ahhh… just the way we all like ‘em.
I hope Paris gets hand cancer so she can’t brush her hair or apply make up anymore – the only problem with this plan is that she’s so rich she’d just hire someone to do it for her.