Confession: I Want to be Paris Hilton’s New BFF

So I realize this might be a huge blow to my street cred, but I seriously love this show. For those of you who don’t watch it (the “uncool,” I like to call you), basically, it’s like The Bachelor except your aim is to be Paris Hilton’s new BFF instead of a trophy wife. She sets challenges like “can you party as long as Paris AND be presentable enough to meet her mother the next day?” and makes the wannabes play polo by riding around on half-naked men. Quality television, that.

But anyway, it leaves me with an overwhelming desire to be Paris’s new BFF.

Not on the show. Oh god.

No, I want to be her actual BFF, because the way she is treating these poor starry-eyed schmucks is hiLARious and actually quite clever and manipulative and horrible and I would love to be a part of it. Hey, these people signed up for this game, they’re so enamored of Paris they’re willing to do anything she tells them. Paris is just playing with them, and they either can’t tell or are doing the “thank you sir may I have another” thing–I mean, hell, she has a weekly “Pet” and whoever is made Pet is so happy to earn that degrading position. I mean seriously. Paris is so evil and the wannabes are so dumb. It’s great.

Yes, I *am* a bad person, why do you ask?

So this is me reaching out to Paris, wherever she may be: if you need a partner in crime, give me a call.


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