This is a post from the broken-hearted.
Monday, June 04, 2007
It’s almost two weeks since I last updated my blog. In that seemingly-short span of time, a number of tragedies have struck me and the world (in order of relevance).
I tossed and turned in bed last night, and simply could not fall asleep because today was the Big Day.
The day when Paris Hilton is gonna be jailed.
This is probably one of the biggest days ever in Hollywood, simply because one of Hollywood’s brightest young starlets is going to jail.
Paris Hilton, a multi-talented star who has managed to establish herself across the music industry, movie industry, modeling industry, television industry, adult industry and within the pants of many random men, is going to the prison.
If you haven’t heard, Paris was originally jailed for 45 days. However due to the congested nature of the prisons in America (I wonder why), she will only be inside the slammer for 23 days.
That is still too long for me.
All she did was to drive a Bentley at 70mph on a 35mph road, during a period when her license was suspended. And why was her license suspended? Well, she only drove under the influence of alcohol, no biggie. It is not as if she might kill someone in a road-rage incident fueled by alcohol.
As of today, Paris has reported to jail. I am worried sick. I heard a lot of rumours regarding her upcoming stint in prison, and I must assure you, they are extremely disturbing.
One of these, I heard, was that the prison wardens have replaced the normal grey bars of her cell with phallic-looking bars. I am losing sleep over this because Paris might just choke on these specially-designed bars.
It is in times like these that I wonder about the justice, or lack thereof, in this world. I mean, here we are, sending a perfect lady who welcomes everyone with open limbs to the prison, while a grotesque monster like Rosie O’Donnell is still out there, scheming to hog all the nuggets in the world.
I rest my case.
The next tragedy may be a little bit more earth-shaking. Tough to believe, but I think it just might be true.
My colleagues and friends actually think that I may be a woman.
All right, calm down. Especially all you guys going ‘HURRAY!’
Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m still a guy.
Just because I like to drink apple martinis, gin tonics, vodka ribenas, and pina colada; don’t really care about boobs; prefer cats to dogs; fuss about my hair all the time; start whining when I walk for more than five minutes; don’t mind fighting with my teeth and nails if necessary; am afraid of snails; am undecisive; have a pink handkerchief; love a bed-sheet adorned with pictures of toy trains and cars; and hate to sweat, doesn’t mean that I may be a woman inside right?
I hope all you readers acknowledge that my colleagues have erred in their judgment. I really hope that they are wrong, because I’m only 20, and I’m still a little too young for an identity crisis.
If you really agree with my colleagues and friends, I might get really depressed and start binging.
Actually, typing this entry has already caused tears to well up in my eyes. I guess I shall retire to my bed (with the toy-trains-and-cars bed-sheet), and cry myself to sleep in this lonely, lonely night…
This entry was posted
on Monday, June 04, 2007 at 10:36 PM.
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