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Okay, a note to whoever cut the new NMA animasian detailing Paris Hilton’s arrest record in light of her recent guilty plea for coke possession: Please come work at DISGRASIAN. PLEASE. PLEASE. We can pay you in barbed compliments and brown liquor. And awkward hugs.
Here’s the piece I’m referring to:
What isn’t covered in the video is what happened the following day. Poor little Paris flew all the way to Tokyo to make promo appearances peddling her bag and fragrance lines, but was denied entry to Japan at Narita airport. According to HuffPo, “under Japanese law, immigration authorities are empowered to deny entry to those who have been convicted of drug-related offenses.”
Hilton’s rep, Dawn Miller, made a statement on the celebutard’s behalf:
“Paris was contractually bound to her business trip and didn’t want to let down her brands and many Asian fans. She intended on fulfilling her contract and is trying hard to do the responsible thing, but this is beyond her control. She is very disappointed by tonight’s events. Paris is shocked and apalled that a famous-for-nothing of her tenure might actually have to be accountable for her derelict actions, and face any sort of consequences for her incessant spittooeying in the face of the law.*”
Filed under: Accountability, Awesome Japanese Behavior, Celebutards, Drug Offenses, Famous-For-Nothings, Ha Ha, Japan, Paris Hilton, Paris Hilton Detained At Narita Airport, Paris Hilton Sent Back From Japan, Paris Hilton Should Expire, Talentless White Girls
Oh Bruno, Bruno, Bru-noooooooooo.
AMAZIAN STATUS REVOKED!
But Jen, you say, who doesn’t love a little bumpity-bump now and then, a little Frosty the Snowman and Christmas come early? What, you don’t like to party? And I say, Sure, if you like diarrhea of the mouth, a limp dick, and the persistent feeling that there’s a crusty booger hanging out your nose that you can’t quite get to all night, have your fun, man.
But here’s the problem: Before you become a rock star cliche, you gotta become a rock star. Getting caught with coke is so third act of your career, not the first. No one knows who the fuck you are yet. You didn’t win a VMA. And your debut solo record is still a week away from dropping. Even Paris Hilton released a full-length album before she got busted with drugs twenty times in one month. And that album actually and astonishingly Continue reading We Regret To Inform You That Your Amazian Status Has Been Revoked
Filed under: Bruno Mars, Bruno Mars Cocaine Bust, Bruno Mars Las Vegas Cocaine Bust, Clichés, Coke, Coke Whores, Drugs, Former Amazians, Paris Hilton, Peter Hernandez, Stripped Of Their Title, VMAs, White Lady
At a press conference Wednesday in Dubai, Paris Hilton announced that she’s filming a new version of her reality show Paris Hilton’s My New BFF there.
Because there’s not enough effed-up shit going on in the Middle East right now. No, not really.
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!)
If the tumbling world economy doesn’t kill the luxe House of Chanel (Lawd, please, no!), I do worry that an icky epidemic of sublebrity surrogates will.
I mean, as if this display alone isn’t bad enough…
…then (Ewwww!) THIS should do the trick:
Ultra-shame is the nail in the coffin, guys. The nail in the coffin.
Filed under: Bobby Trendy, Bringing Down the House, Chanel, Economic Crisis, Famous-For-Nothings, Heidi Montag, karl lagerfeld, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Puke, Shame by Celebrity Proxy, Sublebrities
PARIS: [rolling eyes] Uh-huh.
TILA: You look good, girl.
TILA: How ARE you?
PARIS: Good. Um, interesting dress… thing, or whatever.
TILA: Thank you! I’m trying to do a throwback to like, old, uh, Hollywood glamour, or whatever.
PARIS: Or like, disco?
PARIS: And like, mummies. And nurses.
TILA: Hmph. [scans Paris's body] Are you even wearing a dress?
PARIS: My parts are covered and I look hot, so yeah.
TILA: Ah. I feel bad for you. I don’t like, roll that way anymore. I changed my image.
PARIS: To what? A singer for ABBA?
TILA: No, like cleaned up and classy. I had my lawyers start taking all of the pictures of me off of the Internet.
PARIS: [laughs uncontrollably] I don’t think that’s going to work, betch.
TILA: [getting angry] What, bitch?
PARIS: Nothing. Never mind. I’m sure people will totally take all of those pictures of your dirty pussy off of the Web. Are we done here?
TILA: We’re done here, you hater!
PARIS: Good, I need to go get some disinfectant for my face.
TILA: Oh that’s really nice. Really nice. While you’re at it, you should disinfect your crotch.
PARIS: Whatever you say, cooze breath.
TILA: Eat a dick!
PARIS: I will!
[They stomp off in a huff.]
TILA: [to self] Hunh. Who won that one?
The McCain camp released an official smear ad yesterday simply entitled, “Celeb,” which juxtaposes Senator Obama with clips of Britney Spears (circa 1999) and Paris Hilton, supposedly highlighting Obama’s lack of substance despite his undeniable star power.
Frankly, we find the ad to be pretty embarrassing. It’s simply not good–the video quality is terrible, the editing shoddy, the voice-over nearly comical, the celebutard footage ineffective. And hey, we’re proud of the GOP for trying to get jiggy with thems newfangled concepts of viral interwebs marketing and all, but uh, they’re probably gonna have to do better than that.
Still, the piece has gotten a lot of attention, and in the process drawn quite a bit of controversy. One take in particular caught our eye via Political Punch–liberal blogger Josh Marshall from Talking Points Memo condemned McCain’s attacks yesterday but focused on one specific extrapolation we hadn’t even thought of:
“…the McCain campaign is now pushing the caricature of Obama as a uppity young black man whose presumptuousness is displayed not only in taking on airs above his station but also in a taste for young white women.”
Um… I’m not proud of McCain’s decision to resort to attack ads, but I have to say that in watching “Celeb” about 25 times over, I witnessed Obama being criticized for being all bark and no bite, being lauded for non-achievements, being celebrated for simply being a celebrity. But the thought never once struck me that Obama was being defamed with the insinuation that he likes to dabble in “young white women.”
What made us even go there? Obama, by all accounts, is a happily married man with a beautiful wife. And the footage in “Celeb” simply references the two most useless (yet most famous) stars of this decade. So I wonder how the point of lust was even dragged into the dialogue. Does a picture of a white woman and a black man instantly connote sexuality? Do we assume that even if black man isn’t leering over taut blondes, he must be denying the fact that he wants to? Do we always refer to people this way, by color?
My god, is this really 2008? I feel like I’m in a fucking time warp.
I also feel like I just spoke to someone at a dinner party that said, “I just love Black people. They’re such wonderful musicians and athletes.”
Japan has named Hello Kitty a goodwill tourism ambassador in hopes that “tapping into that fan base will lead to a bigger flow of tourists into Japan.”
I have absolutely no idea why I know that Paris Hilton spent a half hour with a fake shaman, or that Audrina Patridge even exists (and got a fake tattoo in chinaspeak spelling out “fried meat and rice” last week). I resent myself for spelling their names correctly, and to boot, spelling those names on Jen’s and my sacred blog (where they share real estate with real winners like Michelle Malkin and Tila Tequila). Yes, yes, for these things I am truly ashamed.
And okay, I’m also a little embarrassed that, like lots of other celebublog readers, I fell for both fauxperiences–worst of all, placing a call to Jen on Friday that went something like: “Dude. Audrina, that girl with the weird floating eyes on The Hills got a wack Chinese lettering tattoo. Can you read it? It’s so wrong! Take her ass to court!”
I was fooled for a minute, sure. But what annoys me more is word on the e-street that both staged photo-ops were apparently produced bits for Ass-ton Kutcher’s new “gotcha!” series, Pop Fiction–a self-rewarding, for-celebutards-by-celebutards reality show in which idiot camera whores poop the paparazzi. Because the famous-for-nothings need more reasons to congratulate themselves.
Wow. Who orders up eight episodes of this shit? I think we should all be ashamed.
Filed under: Ass-ton Kutcher, Audrina Patridge, Celebutards, Enough Already, Paparazzi Whores, Paris Hilton, Pop Fiction, Shaman Everyone, Stop These Talentless Fools, Stupid Ideas, TMZ Whores, Wacktors, Whores
After Barron Hilton, the third of four children in Rick and Kathy’s party brood, was busted for DUI in the ‘Bu yesterday, I got to wondering…would things have turned out differently if the 18 year-old had had a Hardass Asian Parent or two?
Below, please find…a scientific experiment:
Barron Hilton would not be a fuckup had he been raised by a Hardass Asian Parent.
1) HARDASS ASIAN PARENT: Why can’t you be more like your sisters?
2) HARDASS ASIAN PARENT: I take it back. Your sisters are dead to me. You’re now my only hope.
BARRON HILTON: Dude, what’s with the pressure? You’re giving me a fuckin’ anxiety attack. I gotta go smoke a bowl, man. Late.
3) HARDASS ASIAN PARENT: When you first told me that you received a DUI, I thought it was a school award or a scholarship. Now that I know the truth, I am severely disappointed. Drinking and driving? Where did you learn such degrading behavior? We don’t even drink. My heart is breaking into a thousand pieces. Do you want to give me heart attack? You’ll regret what you’ve done when I’m dead. Speaking of which, you are dead to me. I have no choice but to disown you.
Even if Barron Hilton had been raised by Hardass Asian Parents, he would still be a fuckup.
When I was growing up, three words were sacrosanct in my house: Hafo (Harvard), Yelu (Yale), and M.I.T. (granted, that’s an acronym, but the Massachusetts Institute of Technology is a cruel mouthful for immigrant parents whose second language is English). The first time I visited the East Coast, where my dad attended some physics conference, I toured the Harvard, M.I.T., and Brown campuses, and all I got was a lousy Harvard t-shirt. That seems significant in hindsight. I guess Harvard was, even in my world of Great Hardass Asian Expectations, the crème de la crème.
Four years later, when it came time to apply to colleges, I knew that applying early bettered your chances of getting accepted, and you could only do that for one school, so I chose Yale. It was completely random and I still don’t know why that became my first choice. I am convinced that being first-generasian from a bumfuck Texas town helped get me in, and once that happened, I was so shocked, bewildered, and stoked that I didn’t consider other colleges (even though it nearly cost my parents their house and I immediately went into heavy student debt).
I never perceived any real difference between the two universities, unlike my roommate Mimi’s Hardass Asian Mom, who thought Yale was a safety school and was disappointed for four years that her daughter hadn’t gotten into the big H. The Harvard-Yale game always sucked, because the football sucked, the cheerleaders sucked, the marching bands sucked (on purpose in Yale’s case), the crowd chants sucked, and I’ve always maintained that tailgating–the raison d’etre of that game–is for football pussies. But I could never quite muster up the energy to yell, “Harvard Sucks.”
Diana thinks that Harvard grads have limp handshakes (sorry RJ and Kathy), but I know plenty of “Yalies” (vomits in mouth) who do, too. Because of my early indoctrinasian, I’ve only held Harvard in high esteem–it was Yale in prettier environs–until this week, when I learned that the Harvard Lampoon named Paris Hilton “Woman of the Year.”
Now, for a little history of the award. Past Women of the Year include: Katharine Hepburn, Shirley Maclaine, Lauren Bacall, Julie Andrews, Carol Burnett, Liza Minnelli, Elizabeth Taylor, Lucille Ball, Jodie Foster, Diane Keaton, Goldie Hawn, and Meryl Streep, to name a few.
More recent Women of the Year, like Scarlett Johansson and Halle Berry, may lack the talent of a Kate, Liz or Meryl, but at the very least, they are easy on the eyes.
But Paris Fuckin’ Hilton?!? Whose talents include cocksmoking in grainy homemade videos, flashing her cooter in public, drunk driving, and introducing the phrase “That’s hot” into our cultural vernacular? Paris Hilton with the lazy eye? What?!?
Is this one of those meta-things, which Ivy League whippersnappers are so damned fond of, like a joke of a joke?
Ha ha! Ha ha!
I still don’t get it.
I guess Harvard Sucks.
So the big Rush Hour 3 premiere bash happened last night, beginning at Mann’s Chinese Theater (of course). I’m sure you’ve been looking for us in the screening and after party photos…
Are we… here?
What about… here?
Jackie and other rittle people rookey next to big tall man!
Okay then, what about… here?
one of which apparently still has trouble understanding Chingrish.
Well gosh, maybe the guest list was just really tight at this event. Strictly A-list. Only true artists, visionaries, pioneers of the industry, that sort of thing.
and she’s talking to a living, breathing, jump-kicking cartoon.
ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT. I’ll admit it. We weren’t invited. Maybe we weren’t important enough. Maybe there was too much to write about. Maybe they were scared to have us there.
Or maybe we just had something better to do:
Frankly, we really didn’t want to go.
Source: Associated Press