Well I'm back. It has been a while and my pointer finger is aiming at the Ramada. I have been putting in a lot of hours and hopefully my paycheck will reflect that. On to more pressing matters.
For the life of me, I simply can not understand Paris Hilton. I really think that I have the capability to, I just think that the things that she does are completely beyond reason. She is facing a jail sentence for testing the limits of her probation. Of course she messes up by drunk driving. Now the gavel points to 45 days in the big house, and she is complaining. Not just complaining, but actually saying, "She is too pretty to go to jail." In case you missed that, she said, "She is too pretty to go to jail." Unbelievable! She even called Governor Schwartzenager to try get him to help her out. On what planet do these things happen? Seriously!? I don't know where her rational is at, because if I was a judge, I would personally walk her to her cell, and lock the door. I'm not sure how this will play out, but I'm guessing she A)-won't have to go B)- will go and make a TV show out of it, or C)- will get to serve her time in a hotel (probably her daddy's).
This sets a great example to all the young and stupid little girls who look up to her. Hopefully your daddy owns a hotel chain and you can plead incompetent. I would love to kick her in the face. I can make another reference here. If I weren't a Muggle, I would send her to Azkaban, but that probably wouldn't work because she is too dumb and would enjoy Dementors. This leads to a better question. What is wrong with her parents?
Anyway, no matter how much I know I'm right on that, it won't make her less spaced out. I'm going to bed now. I have an early tee time and with any luck, I will have the recurring dream of meeting the entire cast of the Harry Potter movies at a farm yard McDonalds.
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The closest my daddy came to being a hotel owner was to raise rabbits in cages in the back shed. We ate our pets, believe it or not! They tasted like chicken but the squeals were different. We was backwoods, baby, but never hungry thanks to my little Thumper!! Love, Dad.
The closest my daddy came to being a hotel owner was to raise rabbits in cages in the back shed. We ate our pets, believe it or not! They tasted like chicken but the squeals were different. We was backwoods, baby, but never hungry thanks to my little Thumper!! Love, Dad.
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