Poor Paris Hilton: the girl just wants to get drunk, get naked, and get had, in a guzzle of wanton wastrelsy. And we here in the world can’t let her alone as she plumbs the depths of her depths. Frankly, if she’d do any of that around me, I’m sure I’d find it endearing.
Paris Hilton: Hello. Have a drink. Would you like to see my boobs?
Linus: Um, I …
Paris Hilton: Whoops!
Linus: You, uh, they …
Paris Hilton: I’m also not wearing panties.
Paris Hilton: What’s wrong with you? I’ve been talking to you for like 10 seconds and we haven’t had sex yet. Here, hold this camcorder.
I’d vote for her.
In latest news, hackers have done the deed on Paris Hilton’s cell phone Sidekick on T-Mobile, unearthing celebrity phone numbers and a debauchery of text notes of the sort that might litter the lifestyle you might imagine. The t-shirt is already for sale, if your wardrobe accessorizes at the speed of media.
My cell company is also T-Mobile, which seems to be a romp for hackers (but it won’t be my cell company for long if they don’t cough up a good deal on a new phone, my V-66 is dying hard). Imagine the dimensions of the trouble if my information were spread all over those Internets. Just a few of the salacious details:
From My Phone Book (some names changed to protect the busy)
- Pierre, Pierre’s cell
- Seth, Seth’s cell, Seth’s replacement cell that he used for a while when the first cell didn’t work and I keep forgetting to delete it
- The beauteous stage manager, home and cell
- Chuck’s home number which he never answers, Chuck’s work number where he never is, Chuck’s cell which now rings some annoyed guy named Jeremy since it took Chuck so long to win his fight contesting the Verizon bill that they reassigned his number. Also Chuck’s replacement cell which may or may not be his permanent cell, I keep forgetting to ask
- Renée’s number from before she moved
- Dani from when she lived on the Upper West Side
- Some girl named Nicole that I don’t know who she is
- Some girl named Claire that I don’t know who she is
- Some girl named Jenny that I don’t know who she is
- Mom’s cell that she never answers and doesn’t mostly turn on
- Babooshka on Staten Island where I used to get my hair cut but they’ve been closed for over a year
- Stubb’s Bar-B-Q in Austin
- Blackstone Winery in Sonoma County
Sample Text Messages
- Im here where are you
- R U here?
- I am at the Gates
- I dont see you. R U sure you R here?
- Where exactly?
- What lamp?
- OK I am at the lamp, I still dont see U
- Ha ha very funny OK when are you getting here
Whew, if that stuff got out I just don’t know what I’d do.
Seriously, though, I say lay off the girl. She’s just doing what most of us would do if we could — we’re all Paris Hilton, we just never had the chance. What if the party really never stopped, never at all? Most of us never got there in the first place. How strange to be lost inside with no clear way out. How strange to know that sooner or later you’re bound to get stuck somewhere with Fred Durst, and he’s going to want to show you something.
Previously Parised on Pepper:
Judging from those text messages, can I assume I’m not the only one sending you impatient texts when you’re late? Or are those all me?
Ahem. You have reached the automated response system of Linus Gelber. Linus is not able to answer, er, I mean, Linus is currently located inside a lead box where his cell phone is not, um, OK, maybe Linus resembles that remark just a bit.
I was totally mostly on time for Boogeyman, though. In a geological sense.
Actually I had intended those as outgoing text messages rather than incoming, but I guess they do work either way, don’t they?
I’m deeply repulsed that you’d put your obscenely private information on the internet for everyone to see like that! I come here for wholesome family entertainment! :-P
Surely the words “wholesome family entertainment” and “Paris Hilton” don’t belong in the same entry, do they?
And can anyone explain why this woman still has a TV show?
What I don’t understand is that there hasn’t been a joke yet about Paris, Paris, and Trojans and Greeks. Surely, somebody should write a two-scroll epic about the subject; in verse, too!
Well, if you mean Paris and Paris as in Paris and her boyfriend Paris, I think everyone is just too embarrassed to mention it. If you mean the Paris nouveau and the classical Paris, I think the camps are pretty heavily divided: people who know Paris are unlikely to be following Paris’s career, and vice versa.
Trojans? Video evidence suggests that she doesn’t use them, at least not by nightvision. And as for Greek, well, she doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who says “no” a lot, providing you have enough money or fame to ask in the first place.
You’re probably right about the epic. I’m sure there’s much more to be said, and we can only hope that no one has time to get to it before we all stop caring.
The Motorola V66 from Tmobile is the biggest piece of shit I have ever seen.
Zack’s died. We sent it back for a replacement. They sent us one that didn’t work. We sent back the replacement. They sent us a replacement replacement that didn’t work. We sent it back. They sent a replacement x3 that worked. We sent back his phone. They charged me $70 for “water damage” which had nothing to do with the phone’s failure.
Can you tell I’m a bit bitter about it? Anyway, yes, the v66 sucks beyond belief.
Abby, the same thing happened to me: mine snapped in two (OK, maybe I dropped it just a little) and I sent it in for a replacement. I had an outside service plan which had never actually registered me, and we had to go back and forth on that for a while. Eventually worked it out.
They sent me a phone that didn’t vibrate, and since I only ever keep the phone on vibrate, it was pretty useless. I sent it back to them (we’re on FedEx now, back and forth, and they are not paying for my shipping, but I’ve got SXSW coming up and I need my phone ASAP) and they finally sent me the phone I have now, which has a defective screen. It shows in pale hard-to-read green rather than bright cheery blue. I figured it worked enough, and kept it: who new what would come next if I sent it back again?
T-Mobile service, now, that’s a whole nother issue. When I send a text message it either goes through right away, or never, or within six hours. Don’t get me started…
how is it that I’m not in there? Hmm?
Uh, I’ll have to ask Paris next time I see her. I had you listed I know, it must have been the Fred Durst porn video that erased it or something…