I feel as if I need to explain myself before I launch into this because I'm a bit torn about whether to even give attention where attention is not due. I have never ever mentioned Paris Marriott? Holiday Inn? Ramada? Whatever for a couple of reasons. I'll list them here for you:
1. In the deliciously concise words of Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka, "I don't care." (In response to Violet Beauregarde's introduction of her little gum-snaping, rotten self.) I am of the inclination that if we all just ignore her, she'll have to go away. So I'm just doing my part. I don't care who she's snogging in clubs. I don't care what clubs she goes to. I don't care what designer she's wearing. And I certainly don't care about her so-called music career when all it is is her screeching into a mic and a team of sound engineers and mega-producers spending the better part of a year trying to make it sound like she can sing. I Just. Don't. Care.
2. Personally, I don't want people who do web searches for Paris Motel 6? Hyatt? Whatever to end up here becuase it's very likely the sort of people I don't want visiting my blog. Only cool people are allowed to read it. (I once mentioned a certain Black Eyed Pea who's London London Bridge wanna go down and I still to this day get people who search for "Insert Pea Here's butt" or whatever and arrive here. Which is fine. I'm down with her awesomely bad music. I love it for working out. I think she's pretty when she doesn't try too hard. And she's got a rocking body for which I can only give props where props is due. I just saw what can happen when you mention a celeb's name...)
So, with all that said... (think of it as a disclaimer) last night I started a new book: The Starter Wife. Inside the front cover it had those little snippets of praise from editors, other authors, magazine editors and the like. And there it was. Staring me in the face. And I quote: "I could not put it down. It was so true to what Hollywood really is." Paris Hilton.
Ok. Let's stop here for a moment and let that sink in.
Done? Ok, I'll just get right down to business:
1. Does anybody out there actually belive that she read a book? I think the answer is a resounding HELL-to-the-NO. She's possibly the most vapid, doltish, vacuous person on the planet. She likely spends her time doing nothing but shopping at Kitson, clubbing at Hyde, and screwing whomever she can get her man-hands on. That doesn't leave much time for reading.
2. Let's, for a moment, suspend our reality and say we all live in Mega-Fantasy-Land. A Land in which she does read a book every now and again. Does anyone out there really think she would actually take time to provide a quote for a publisher? Again, our answer is (Say it with me kids!) HELL-to-the-NO. Her assistant or PR person, or publicist, or minion most certainly came up with it on her behalf.
However, this book is supposed to be really good and got praise from a lot of other reputable sources who actually DO read books so I'm going to try to not be too disturbed that it included a quote from Rome? Prague? London? Whatever Hilton.