to petition Jeff to keep us in the know regarding Paris Hilton’s jail diaries.
Now . . . Karl, or Darleen, or Cranky, or McGehee, or ANYBODY . . . please take over before I post again!
UPDATE: There’s something about Paris that puts me in mind of these Nick Lowe lyrics . . .
from the great “Jesus of Cool” album:
MARIE PROVOST
Nick Lowe
Marie Provost did not look her best
The day the cops bust into her lonely nest
in the cheap hotel up on Hollywood west
July 29
She’d been lyin’ there for two or three weeks
The neighbors said they never heard a squeak
While hungry eyes that could not speak
said even little doggies have got to eat
chorus:
She was a winner that became a doggie’s dinner
She never meant that much to me
Whoa oh poor Marie
Marie Provost was a movie queen
mysterious angel of the silent screen
And run like the wind the nation’s young men steamed
When Marie crossed the silent screen
Whoa she came out west from New York
but when the talkies came Marie just couldn’t cope
The public said Marie take a walk
All the way back to New York
-repeat chorus-
Those quaalude bombs didn’t help her sleep
As her nights grew long and her days grew bleak
It’s all downhill once you’ve passed your peak
Marie got ready for that last big sleep
The cops came in and they looked around
Throwin’ up everywhere over what they found
The handiwork of Marie’s little dachshund
That hungry little dachshund
-repeat chorus-
poor Marie
The rubber hits the road eventually, even in Paris.
I read grievances, kites, book requests, and the affidavits of inmates every day (I even get to notarize the ones that are semi-legible,) and very few come close to the greatness that was the Martha Stewart prison diaries.
Recounting the day-to-day experiences of Paris in a county jail sounds like a lot of work, though noted Nicole Ritchie fan Allah can provide some input. Plus, it’s only 45 days, ya twisted Armadillophile.
Before they put Paris behind bars will they, you know, move the bars closer together?
I’ll probably post a thing or two this weekend, but in the meantime, you can listen to “Marie Provost.”
From the LAT story, she arrived a full fifteen minutes late for the hearing, and then…
Asked whether she had understood the terms of the drunk-driving plea that she agreed to Jan. 22, Hilton, 26, said: “I just sign what people tell me to sign…. I’m a very busy person.”
There ya go, ya stupid, clueless bitch. It’s always a good idea to get the judge on your side by arriving fifteen minutes late, and then telling him that you’re too busy to bother with all of that, yannow, law stuff. Jesus H. Christ.
“Too busy, judge, for all this legal crap…I got an appointment to flash my junk for the papparazzi over at Deca-dance. Can we get his over with?”
I’m still editing my review of Kierkegaard for posting later. Can someone tell me whether “eyes glazed over” is hyphenated?
Dan, I had that EXACT thought when I heard was going to the big house.
Come on, Jeff … as a favor to your loyal readers. We NEED Paris’s jailhouse diary.
Is the whole thing an adjective, McGehee?
what goes around
goes around
goes around
comes all the way
back around
…yay-ah
Carin: loved this piece at your blog.
Which, the phrase “eyes glazed over,” or Kierkegaard’s entire body of work?
Either/Or
Yes and no.
Maybe/Sorta
Kierkegaard for teh New Millenium
Paris Hilton’s jail diaries? This sounds like a job for Iowahawk.
You’ll just have to see Paris my way…
I’ve been told that you hyphenate when not doing so would cause confusion. I think you’re probably fine without.
I’ll bet there’s a thousand locked-up carpet munchers praying for 45 nights in Paris.
We’re counting on Jeff to come through for us on this one…
The world DEMANDS an all-Paris, all the time blog site.
OK, didn’t see the lyrics, but it wasn’t “I knew the bride when she used to rock and roll”? Was it?
No, but she did the Lindy Hop.