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Thinking God Thoughts

paris-rescued.jpgI’m sorry that I’ve been out of touch the last few days. I finally tracked down Paris. She never did find that club, and she refused to go on the ‘PovBoat‘, as she called it, when they were evacuating Lebanon. “I am not even INTO chicks anyway, that was just to turn on some hot boys!” Ugh, Paris, I don’t know whether to give you a hug or snap your neck and put you out of our misery. Wow. Listen to me! This is what happens when I skip carbs in morning. Demi was right – you really have to watch your bran intake as you get on in years.

I was able to find a taxi driver that we had to pay $1600 EACH to for a quick escape out of Lebanon. Paris kept wanting to stop to shop, however. Finally I gave up and slipped her (another) Xanax after the third time she screamed, “STOP!” outside yet another boutique that had been bombed. “Paris, it’s burning,” I said. Her reply? “In a war zone you can get crazy good deals on couture!”

While we’re on that topic of flying covertly into a war torn country, risking your life to track down a friend, and finally rescuing your friend and expecting at least a thank you, can I just say that Paris Hilton is a BFFW – a Best Friends Forever WHORE! The whole time on the private jet back, she talked on the SkyPhone to You Know Who. And she actually asked me if I’d go get her some warm peanuts from the galley. And a diet coke. She can be so insensitive sometimes. So I slipped her another Xanax and called it even.

Looking back I feel so foolish – all the “friends” around her who she just burns through like Whitney on a bender. I guess I was blinded by happiness … I thought I really was her BFF. Now I’m just another person in the background of some spontaneous porn video or lewd party photo. But I’m glad I got her back home to her real friends safely, and that makes me a better friend than she’ll ever be or ever have again.

I’m just another name programmed on her speed dial, sure to disappear the next time she loses her SideKick.


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