Dear Paris Hilton, (or I may have known smarter and more interesting boxes of rocks)

Dear Ms. Paris Hilton,

We have seen your new “show” (well, we haven’t, not really.  But then, you’ve seen the ratings, so you know), and we understand exactly what it is that you are trying to do here.  You have interviewed, telling people that the show is the debut of the new business-like you, an in-depth look into your life and who you are, but we know the truth.  You are committing fame suicide, for us, and we love you for it. 

I think I speak for many of us out there when I say, “I applaud you.”     

I personally was forced to sit through many a mind-numbing hour of “Simple Life” watching you and your current BFF disrupt and disrespect the livelihoods and lives of people not born with silver spoons in their mouths (or up their noses, as the court case may be), way back in the days when people actually repeated things you said like “That’s so HOT”, and… wait, was there anything else you said?  I can say that I did get a few laughs.  Of course, those laughs came after the show went off, and I was watching something funny that was not a train-wreck of self-absorbed, self-congratulating, bratty rudeness and stupidity.   

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You are a well-renowned heiress to a considerable fortune and so far have seemed to do nothing remotely worthwhile with such vast fame and numerous chances.  Our youth and culture have been bombarded by bratty catch-phrases, infected with self-centered starlet silliness, and diseased through drugged out paparazzi princess predictability.  We had begun to give up hope; hope for our youth; hope for ourselves.   

You have given us back our hope.  Thank you, thank you, for no longer compelling us to sit through another season of brain-raping dullness. 

Its Gotten Old.

We are happy that you are no longer clinging to the sad hope that someone somewhere still cares about what horribly selfish things you may do, what ridiculous attire you might wear, who you are probably having coitus with, or what new BFF or employee you are currently torturing mercilessly for high-pitched, baby-doll, ear bleeding giggles.   

We are pleased that you have come to the realization that your looks are rapidly fading, that you are 30 (the cutesy spoiled bitch thing ain’t so cute anymore) and that blatant stupidity is no longer the “in” thing.   We are ecstatic that you now know that since most of us struggle for every cent that we get, the not-so-poor little rich baby girl act isn’t cutting it for us anymore.

We all commend you in finally coming to grips with the fact that you may be responsible for the downfall of your family’s empire, that you have made a laughing stock of a family that once people all took very seriously, and that you are and have been an abject embarrassment to the once venerable name, Hilton.  We applaud the steps that you have taken to make yourself just fade away.  

The intelligence and, dare I say, selflessness you are displaying by completely burning  the last pepto-pink,  Barbie doll  brained, mean-girl, skank-stench, vomitus vestiges of a spoiled, vapid, tiny dog torturing  personality from the brains of our youth (and not so youth), well, I’ll just say, “You go, Girl!”

Really.

Go.

You are so NOT hot right now.   

Sincerely,

The world.  Or
Faith D.

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