PARIS HILTON - WHEN MOBILE PHONES ATTACK

Righto, here is a confession, I LOVE PARIS HILTON. There I said it, well actually I wrote it, but you know what I mean. So here I go, getting ready to explain myself again. It's like you, as a reader, have been cast in the role of some kind of cyber Judge Judy, quick run to the kitchen and find a paper doily (that's a small ornamental mat, usually of lace or linen) to stuff into your shirt collar so you can stare down at me like some kind of twisted, badly dressed, dominatrix who woke up with a cracking hangover and is going through her monthlys. She tuts and sighs through my declaration of love for Paris, looks down her glasses at me and dishes up timely wisdom about how I shouldn't have come in front of her courtroom with such pointless cases for her to preside over. Once that's done I then have to go outside to face the waiting camera's and whinge about how

(adopt Southern accent....fuck knows why cos I'm an aussie but it works for me) "Well I know now I was barking up the wrong tree loving that dirty rich slapper, she done me wrong with her devil may care attitude and her 'look at me, if I didn't have buggery loads of cash, I would just be a B grade hooker' ways"

At this stage I would like it noted that I am not alone on this one. My beautiful hubby Adam shares my love for Paris, in fact, he is more devoted than I am. As soon as we saw the first episode of 'The Simple Life' we were hooked, in fact we went straight to Amazon to order the DVD. As for her 'whoops my clothes fell off while I was coked off my eyeballs and I went home with someone who likes to film his escapades' movies, we asked one of our lesbian friends to lend us her copy, but she is yet to deliver...something about parting with it doesn't sit right with her, go figure. So what is this strange love that we have for her? I think it comes down to a few things.

1) She looks like she is permanently off her trolley, in fact, I'm sure she is so seperated from her trolley that she doesn't even remember what shopping centre carpark she originally came from and a variety of small marsupials have started using her for shelter.

2) She wafts around like some sort of expensive fart, caught in the breeze, I use the word fart because farts know nothing, they inspire laughs and looks of shock and disgust and they never last long enough to make any real difference to your life.

3) She's bullshit rich and she doesn't give a shit about anyone but herself and some animals and thats mostly because they have the same brain capacity as her and even if they actually have more, they can't use it against her.

4) Regardless of what gets thrown at her, she keeps on going, though if you threw a hand granade at her she may find that a bit more challenging.

That brings us of course to the latest news from Paris, someone has hacked into her mobile phone (shock, horror, who knew they could do that?) and stolen all her celeb phone numbers plus her private phone pictures...see below. I feel sorry for her in someways, clearly she is a target but anyone in the public eye is, especially when her only claim to fame is that she is rich and she also does....um.....ok, so she doesn't do much, other than party, pose for pictures and get herself involved in messes like this one. As I said before, who knew they could hack into your phone and steal phone numbers and images. Then again, Paris isn't the sort of person who never loses her phone, so you would think she would use code names and make sure there were no naughty pictures on file. However that would require some pretty serious thinking on her behalf, which clearly is something she ain't very good at. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if she was sitting at home in her mansion, surrounded by every whim and fancy she desires and for one brief second she thought about this new crisis and before she could even muster the strength to get upset about it, she remembered she was so spastically rich she didn't have to worry about anything.