Monday, August 14, 2006
The No.1 Celebrity of the World
As I have attempted to indicate in the past, Paris Hilton is a smasher, a go-getter, a winner and, of course, a heck of a singer as well.
Thanks to her, I have this opportunity to apologize to all and sundry for this post of mine which had expressed doubt over the possibility of beauty and brains cohabitating in a specimen of the fairer sex. What once existed in my retarded mind as a theoretical probability, now takes the practical shape of Paris Hilton. She's got what it takes - a stunning face, a hot bod, fame, fortune, brains, the works. And on top of it all, she's blonde. To cut the crap out, she is the no.1 celebrity of the world.
I find it extremely heartening to note that after years of shedding clothes, Paris has finally shed her natural tendency towards self-denial and humility by openly declaring herself as an iconic blonde (and a smart one at that). To be really honest, she has been a tad too modest again in describing herself merely as an iconic blonde of this decade. I would go one step further to proclaim that she's THE iconic woman. Af all time.
In fact she even rivals the legendary Helen. As I have mentioned before, where Helen was the face that launched a thousand ships, Paris is the one to have launched a thousand (and still counting) nip slips.
She is my heroine. She's my role model. She's the love of my life.
Therefore, imagine my horror, when this shocking incident came to be. Fortunately, unlike the stars, the gods are not blind. They ensured that she was administered a prompt and healthy dose of tetanus.
Here are excerpts of a conversation between a traumatised Paris Hilton and her $800-an-hour psychiatrist.
Paris (between sobs) : How could he do this to me?
Psychiatrist : Most abominable. Most repulsive.
Paris : Boo-hoo-hoo.
Psychiatrist : Err, what was his name again?
Paris : Boo-hoo-hoo.
Psychiatrist : What?
Paris : Baby Luv.
Psychiatrist : I'm sorry?
Paris : Baby Luv. But he doesn't love me anymore. Boo-hoo-hoo.
Psychiatrist : Err, is this the first time err, Baby Luv, attacked you?
Paris (still wailing) : Yes, my baby Baby Luv was always so full of love before.
Psychiatrist : I see. So what was it that you were doing when he bit you?
Paris : I was just frolicking with him.
Psychiatrist : You were doing err, what?
Paris : Frolicking.
Psychiatrist : And then what happened?
Paris : He got excited.
Psychiatrist : What exactly do you mean by he got excited?
Paris : You know, like when an electron is excited into moving to a higher orbital.
Psychiatrist : Oh
Paris : How could he do this to me?
Psychiatrist : It may have something to do with Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle which states that given an iconic blonde and an exotic kinkajou, it is impossible to determine both the position as well as the momentum of the kinkajou's canines..
Paris (rather indignantly) : Hey, that law's for an ionic bond and not for an iconic blonde.
Psychiatrist : Oh.
Paris : What should I do now?
Psychiatrist : Why don't you go get yourself a nice boyfriend instead of a kinky kinkajou this time around?
Paris : Oh no, doc. The boys are all so nasty. All they want to do is to have sex. But you know how shy I am.
Psychiatrist : True. True.
Unfortunately, at this point, the hidden microphone (which was cheap and had been made in China) fizzled out. But not before reiterating some of those facets of Paris' personality that endear her to billions across the latitude and longitude of the planet - the love for our furry friends, the deep knowledge of physical chemistry, the self-effacing modesty. I wish my words could do her justice but, when confronted with the sheer iconism of Paris Hiltondom, they always fail me. All I can say is that she is the no.1 celebrity of the world.
Management Class : News
Thanks to her, I have this opportunity to apologize to all and sundry for this post of mine which had expressed doubt over the possibility of beauty and brains cohabitating in a specimen of the fairer sex. What once existed in my retarded mind as a theoretical probability, now takes the practical shape of Paris Hilton. She's got what it takes - a stunning face, a hot bod, fame, fortune, brains, the works. And on top of it all, she's blonde. To cut the crap out, she is the no.1 celebrity of the world.
I find it extremely heartening to note that after years of shedding clothes, Paris has finally shed her natural tendency towards self-denial and humility by openly declaring herself as an iconic blonde (and a smart one at that). To be really honest, she has been a tad too modest again in describing herself merely as an iconic blonde of this decade. I would go one step further to proclaim that she's THE iconic woman. Af all time.
In fact she even rivals the legendary Helen. As I have mentioned before, where Helen was the face that launched a thousand ships, Paris is the one to have launched a thousand (and still counting) nip slips.
She is my heroine. She's my role model. She's the love of my life.
Therefore, imagine my horror, when this shocking incident came to be. Fortunately, unlike the stars, the gods are not blind. They ensured that she was administered a prompt and healthy dose of tetanus.
Here are excerpts of a conversation between a traumatised Paris Hilton and her $800-an-hour psychiatrist.
Paris (between sobs) : How could he do this to me?
Psychiatrist : Most abominable. Most repulsive.
Paris : Boo-hoo-hoo.
Psychiatrist : Err, what was his name again?
Paris : Boo-hoo-hoo.
Psychiatrist : What?
Paris : Baby Luv.
Psychiatrist : I'm sorry?
Paris : Baby Luv. But he doesn't love me anymore. Boo-hoo-hoo.
Psychiatrist : Err, is this the first time err, Baby Luv, attacked you?
Paris (still wailing) : Yes, my baby Baby Luv was always so full of love before.
Psychiatrist : I see. So what was it that you were doing when he bit you?
Paris : I was just frolicking with him.
Psychiatrist : You were doing err, what?
Paris : Frolicking.
Psychiatrist : And then what happened?
Paris : He got excited.
Psychiatrist : What exactly do you mean by he got excited?
Paris : You know, like when an electron is excited into moving to a higher orbital.
Psychiatrist : Oh
Paris : How could he do this to me?
Psychiatrist : It may have something to do with Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle which states that given an iconic blonde and an exotic kinkajou, it is impossible to determine both the position as well as the momentum of the kinkajou's canines..
Paris (rather indignantly) : Hey, that law's for an ionic bond and not for an iconic blonde.
Psychiatrist : Oh.
Paris : What should I do now?
Psychiatrist : Why don't you go get yourself a nice boyfriend instead of a kinky kinkajou this time around?
Paris : Oh no, doc. The boys are all so nasty. All they want to do is to have sex. But you know how shy I am.
Psychiatrist : True. True.
Unfortunately, at this point, the hidden microphone (which was cheap and had been made in China) fizzled out. But not before reiterating some of those facets of Paris' personality that endear her to billions across the latitude and longitude of the planet - the love for our furry friends, the deep knowledge of physical chemistry, the self-effacing modesty. I wish my words could do her justice but, when confronted with the sheer iconism of Paris Hiltondom, they always fail me. All I can say is that she is the no.1 celebrity of the world.
Management Class : News
mental baba 5:42 AM
