We’ve seen a great deal of pictures of Paris Hilton over the years, but I don’t think any could be as satisfying as the one of her crying her multi-million dollar eyes out in the back of a squad car earlier today. Paris, ladies in gentlemen, is going back to jail. She is going directly to jail, she will not pass go, and she will not collect $200.

Irritated that Paris’ already shortened sentence had been commuted to the heiress’s home, Superior Court Judge Michael T. Sauer signed an order for the anti-idol to return to court so he could personally order her pampered butt back to jail to serve the remainder of her sentence…

her ENTIRE sentence.

Hilton attorney’s hastily trying to incur the ire of the worthless tramp (I’m really sorry if my invective is getting out of hand, read yesterday’s post to understand my thorough loathing of Paris), pleaded with the judge about her “medical condition.” The judge, knowing bullshit when he smells it, had already explained that he had talked with one of the sherriffs, asked that the proper paperwork be filed, and yet the judge was still without the requisite papers.

I’m usually not one to go on like this, but believe it or not, this is important. It shows the Paris-ites of the world, and those who would follow in her steps, that there are consequences to the kind of life that she leads. No one is above the law, not Administration Lapdogs like Scooter Libby, and not Pampered Princesses.

I do want crying Paris to be plastered on television screens. Not out of sheer spite (well, okay a little out of spite) but I also want those girls who see her as a role model to see what’s really behind the mask. This is what a life of frivolous responsibility will get you, and her actions just go to show that in general, Paris Hilton is a weak person, and a weak excuse for a human being. There are people who are bravely volunteering to go to Iraq, some to die, and they do it with a straight face, and then there is this pathetic excuse of a human being who can’t hold it together long enough to serve her due punishment.

And hopefully, this will ultimately be the end of whatever enchantment Paris holds on some parts of the nation. She is not something to be admired, she’s not even some sort of sideshow. She is, simply put, only a model of how not to be, how to lead an empty life. I’m glad my daughters are far too young to understand who or what she is, and are beyond the influence she may weild, and personally, if the last picture of her that I ever see is her grief stricken, tear filled mask of anguish trapped in the back seat of a sherriff’s car, I will be a very happy man.

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