A Putrid Travesty In Sin City

Alright. Enough. No more.
Of course I could only possibly be talking about Paris Hilton. I finally say "Enough!" after standing up for Paris Hilton. My extremely limited personal experience with the hotel heiress came one New Year's Eve at the Las Vegas Hilton. We were there for a party, as was every other human in Sodom. It was one hell of a party, real first class all the way.

There was a big live band, an orchestra really, phenomenal food and top shelf booze - all you ever wanted - and then some, in the grand Las Vegas tradition. And the one thing that always "separates the men from the boys" is the incredible service. You hardly ever noticed "them" because you never had to ask for anything. Libation just appeared like the waitstaff had you on surveillance. Maybe they did. After all, this was Vegas, the town where anything can happen (and usually does).

We arrived at the bash with another couple and were pleased to see we had a great table, right in front of the stage, and not far from the dance floor. We were sitting at the large round table with a third couple making it the six of us, whooping it up on a chilly New Year's Eve in the greatest party town on earth.

And whoop we did. After bottle upon bottle of fine wine during dinner the grape orgy continued when the champagne started flowing. The good stuff, none of this shaking and spraying bullshit. This was some fine bubbly. How the fuck did we end up here? The thought was ringing in my head all night, but screw it! We stepped in something good, which is always a nice surprise. I'm always astonished, especially lately, when you get to a function and it doesn't suck out loud and this was certainly a nice surprise.

The women were getting on quite well, lots of singing and dancing going on. Us guys were having a good time from what I can remember. The husband of my wife's friend is a good guy, a lot of fun and the other guy, named Rick was down to earth, fun, pleasant guy also.

The bandleader then surprised us by announcing that Paris Hilton was making an appearance and would be sitting at a particular table number (I can't remember what the table number was.). Well, I grabbed our camera and set out to find the celebrity table. My search kept bringing me back to the table we were already sitting at. This is when I noticed two things that completely changed the aura of that night in the desert.

One: The table number they announced for Paris Hilton was our table number. Two: I realized the other couple at our table were Rick and Kathy Hilton, Paris' Mom and Dad.

Cool.

Security guards and attendants swarmed over the area. Being seated at the Hilton's table (it was now the Hilton's table...) gave us instant celebrity. Extra banquet tables appeared to accommodate the entourage. Bedlam ensued as the whole party wanted a peek at the world's most famous party girl.

It was funny because I had no idea that I was talking to Rick Hilton. My wife knew and just assumed that I knew, I couldn't possibly be that friggin' stupid. So much for that. It wasn't until I was trying to find Paris' table, and saw her talking to her parents, that I realized what all the fuss was about.

Hmmm... How do I handle this one? No time for a psychotic meltdown - that would be too easy. The table area was complete chaos. I tried to get to my seat but was blocked by a large security guard with a big dickweed grin on his face. He was really getting off on telling people what to do. To my amazement Rick himself told the guy that this was our table and I was welcomed with open arms.

I never got to talk to Paris but she seemed to be really nice to everyone. Her sister Nicky was there and being a total bitch, but I doubt she was getting paid, maybe that had something to do with it. Everyone else was having a great time. My wife and Kathy even sang a duet with the band. We have some great pictures of that night. There was a huge fireworks display at midnight, Vegas spared no expense and as always didn't let us down.

So for years I've been kind to Paris, even justifying some of her antics as "kids will be kids". And rich kids will act like rich children. I don't know where these judges get the fucking balls to rub her leniency in the face of every American citizen. I makes me want to fucking scream (so I do)!

After this last disgusting display of favoritism I'm officially off the Hilton family bandwagon. I'm so angry at the starstruck jurists that so blatantly pervert the judicial system that you almost want to wish little Paris on his own family. Next time she's all fucked up on Grey Goose/Red Bull and a mound of cocaine maybe she'll get behind the wheel of her giant Hummer and fate and coincidence can do the rest. Maybe that will guide your blind, stupid fucking "punishment" decision next time, asshole (I do mean that in a nice way).

If she fucks up again they are saying she will go to jail for one year. Straight up. No more bullshit, just jail, for the entire year. The judge and prosecutor made this all very clear to the public (again) and I think it's complete and total horseshit.

I think it is going to take a horrible death at the hands of one of these celebutards (greatest word ever) to wake these racists judges up. Maybe then they'll put the blinders on and do their fucking jobs.

Paris still has her driver's license. Do you think she'll drive her $400k Mercedes/McClaren to her community service? Paris doesn't even have to check in with her probation officer, it is unsupervised probation. Just how is this any kind of probation when it is unsupervised?

Supervision is literally in the very definition of the legal term "probation". Do you think she'll stop drinking and doing blow? Why should she? Neither drug will stay in your system for more than two days and if the judge doesn't give a fuck why should anyone else?

With this bullshit sentence I certainly don't feel that the public has been well served or protected.

I wonder what Rick and Kathy are thinking? I wonder what they'll think when Paris does some real harm. I wonder if the judge'll be held accountable for letting this travesty exist.

And do you think Nicky's still a little bitch? I do.



Selah.