If only the world were so fortunate!  Usually I’m opposed to wishing painful, agonizing death on others, but for this vapid waste of human flesh, I think exceptions must be made.   Yes, you read that correctly: I am desperately praying, wishing, hoping—hell, even rain dancing!— for the imminent demise of Paris Hilton, a woman (or alien—the studies are inconclusive) whose contribution to humanity falls somewhere between the spork and the unicycle.

Whether this death come in the form a “career” assassination (i.e., choking off her media exposure and thereby ending her purpose for existing) or a more permanent and infinitely more satisfying physical assassination (i.e., a bullet to the brain) is not for me to decide; it’s for the bounty hunter to decide.  Call it a hunch, but something tells me once she opens her mouth—a skill which undoutedly served her well during her recent “jail time”— and a stream of asisine drivel pours forth, he’ll go with the latter option. 

In other news, US Weekly has decided to instate a blackout on all Paris Hilton news (ha!) coverage, citing America’s apparent “Paris fatigue.”  Fortunately for us, they plan to run a series of spreads on celebrity babies instead, because while Americans may have lost their appetite for Paris Hilton, they appear to still have plenty of room for devouring plate after plate of meaningless…there really is no better way to put this: “shite.”