Saturday, 14 February 2009

Have some pride, lady

Paris Hilton came to London to find a British best friend (BBF!), and to televise the whole narcissistic mess for a new reality show. Whoever won the first season eventually ran off when she realized that having to dress fug while remaining five paces behind Paris with her head bowed was not the quickest path to celebrity. So now Paris is gearing up for a second season to find a fresh, new slave.

I'd never watched the show until today. I shouldn't have to explain that. So I don't know which season was on TV this morning, but I witnessed the following: apparently it was the elimination segment. There was Paris, ensconced on a throne holding a bejewelled sceptre, while the wide-eyed hopefuls sat enthralled, looking as if they wanted to eat her shiny, pink soul. Amidst this scene, this exchange takes place:
Paris: "I want you to be my pet."
BBF contestant: "Wow! Thank you!"
I think I was wrong. This thing has great comedic potential.

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