Monday, June 11, 2007

This is all I'm going to say about this then we move on to actual important things (alcohol)

Paris, stop being a fucking baby and take your medicine. You're a spoiled, irresponsible brat, and jail is not supposed to be easy. That's by design, my dear. It's so you won't want to do the things that will cause you to have to go back there. I have no idea why the world cares about you this much, but this is the last bit of attention I will be paying to this whole ridiculous situation. You are horrible. Eat a sandwich.


Lindystar said...

"Eat a Sandwich" AHHH HAHAHAHA SNORT (damn it) AH HA HA HA .

And for gods sake make it a penut butter sandwich while you're at it.'
Or maybe a meatball sub. SOMEHTING!

Chino told me that when he was in jail that they had Boloney every day for lunch. Once again,, AH hahahahahaha

Anonymous said...

Well, thank you very much. Now I want a sandwich, and all I have in microwavable Pizza Pops.

Nanook The Newfoundland said...

which of her publicity agents wrote this little gem for her, do you think?

"I must also say that I was shocked to see all of the attention devoted to the amount of time I would spend in jail for what I had done by the media, public and city officials. I would hope going forward that the public and the media will focus on more important things, like the men and women serving our country in Iraq, Afghanistan and other places around the world."

Nanook The Newfoundland said...

Also, I think this news report is more important:

My favorite line?
"Times are tough for the bangs-'n'-guyliner set."

Carly said...

It's pretty bad that my 9-year old high-fived me when he heard she was back in jail, isn't it??

Sassy Blondie said...

When I worked at the fancy private school in Los Angeles, her younger (and believe or not, dumber) brother, Barron, went to school there. She came to pick him up from school one day with about 40 papparazzi in tow. We had to get security guards to keep them off the property. So she walks up to me at carpool and says, "Uh, can you go get my brother and tell him I'm here?" I replied, "I'm sorry, that's just not how it works. If you'll proceed over to the table, use that black marker and placard board to write his name on it, hold it up, the lady with the headset will call for him from inside." She replied, "Thanks! Umm..could you do it for me?" My reply, " 'fraid not...I'm hear to make sure other children aren't run down by parents on their cell phones." She laughed, told me I was funny, and made her "assistant/boy wonder" go and do it. She told me conspiratorially, "I'm not sure how to spell his name! Hahahaha"

True story...I have witnesses.

Sassy Blondie said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Christian said...

From what I've been told, when they took Paris away for the second time she started to throw a fit and then cried, "Mommy!" Do you realize that is the most common last word of the dying. This is serious and I don't think people should be laughing about her situation. Not really. I think it's hilarious. Mommy!