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Paris Hilton’s My New BFF, season deux, debuted last night.
And despite all of my wishes, prayers, hopes and dreams, the set’s “throne” chair did not suddenly morph into a slobbering mound of feral, starving, sharp-toothed, snapping, diseased, angry labia that instantly/simultaneously enveloped and digested Paris (and that little piss, Onch) in one smelly, violent bite.
That seriously would have been the best thing ever. Ever.
Source (nice typo, MTV!)
Anyone that spends enough time with me knows that most of my best friends are dudes that are kind of chick-like. They look male, they smell male… but they’ll, y’know, bitch me out about not being sensitive to their needs. And they cry listening to “Here” by Pavement. And they spoil me with sushi dinners just to have enough time to wax poetic about the complicated structure of relationships.
I love a guy that’s basically a girl, because guys are awesome and look great in soft, old t-shirts (girls do too, but unless they’re Jen, they’ll never let you borrow their soft, old t-shirt if it looks good on you), and they don’t care if you weigh less than them, and they listen without grunting when you’re three O Bans in and shedding tears about how you feel inadequate, maybe because it’s a full moon or you’re hormonal or something.
So yes, it’s a little funny that I tend to poke at Paris Hilton’s little bitch Onch, just because he’s a delicate, rainbow-colored flower with a fascination for useless famous-for-nothings, and cuz he totally looks like a lady. So when Intern Jasmine sent over photos of the little lad-lass at Hilton’s Christmas party…
…and mused, “Wait – Onch is a dude?” and I responded, “Barely,” I started to check myself. What is my real problem with Onch, anyway? Is it because he’s Asian, and because I’m so desperate to have rock-hard reprzentatives that I can’t deal with an Asian that’s also a bit of a femme fatale?
After, all MTV News has begun releasing their top ten picks for Man of the Year, and already included in that tier are the self-anointed queenish king of guyliner, Pete Wentz, and one very dainty, cherub-faced Jonas brother, Nick Jonas.
I mean shoot, if this is what sets the bar for manhood in the new millenium, Onch is like the new Gerard Butler, and I’m just an outdated old fart. Right?
Maybe I’m wrong about Onch. Maybe.
Every time–I’m talking, EVERY SINGLE TIME–I get a quick glance of a photo and see this one tiny Korean girl rocking rainbow rave style (minus the large tribal earrings), looking eerily like a low-rent rendition of my high school obsession (a diminutive raver pixie named Tiffany), I wrinkle my nose and scoff. I think: She’s ruining it. She’s fucking ruining it! She’s not rocking the colors right! Her shoes are whack! Her knees are all wrong! She looks like a nerdcore Skittles fanatic. She’s not even cool! What is WRONG with this sista??
And then I realize: that ain’t no sista.
Groups that were hurt by the making of this video:
- More specifically, Koreans
- More specifically, Korean dudes
- Singing Gaysians
- Recording Studio Engineers/Techs/Producers
- Pop Stars
- Casey Kasem
- Mariah Carey (bringing more shame to this diva is hard to do)
- Those with Rhythm
- Those without Rhythm
- Korean Superpopstar Rain
- Paris Hilton’s New BFF, ONCH
- Jen and Diana
Part of the reason I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch MTV’s latest idiotic reality show, Paris Hilton’s My New BFF–in which wannabe starfuckers vy for the slot as Paris’s main hanger-on–is that I can’t bear the thought of anybody, however tarderriffic they may be anyway, groveling at the feet of Paris Hilton.
Worse, I hate the thought of an Asian (especially a gaysian!) on his knees in front of that walking syphilis host!