Le maudit Mo D.

Paris's BFF

For entertainment purposes only, I will now answer the questions required of entrants to "Be Paris Hilton's New Best Friend" contest at MTV. The contest has an age requirement of "over 18, but look 18-24." As I look at least 47 (on a good day), I am ineligible, but I will go ahead and answer the questions anyway.

Also, I want to mention that I read somewhere that Paris's dad actually isn't all that rich--he only gets, like, $400,000 a year from the Hilton estate, and since he's raised his children to expect only the finest, that isn't enough, so he *cough* works. As does Paris. She makes 2-3 mill a year parading around like a spoiled princess. Good on her.

ROUND ONE

The casting consists of one round lasting 8 weeks. Here are the requirements you must fulfill to be eligible:

Upload minimum of one (1) new 90 second video answering ALL of the following:

* What is the wildest thing you've ever done?

Hmm... I confess, I have lead a mostly staid, secure existence. I value the mind and have constantly sought to improve my mind at the expense of my ass, thighs, and breasts. That said, I once stole a bunch of photocopies and a handful of pens and Post-Its on the watch of this gentleman, Charles:

Charles worked graveyard at the Noho, Mass Kinko's in the mid-1990s while I was an undergraduate at a prestigious institution whose gender-based admission requirements would most likely confound Ms. Hilton. Charles was lonely, deranged, and liked to raise hell at the expense of Kinko's corporate directives. Hence, when a gaggle of attractive lasses from the local ladycollege came around to photocopy their 'zines, a bottle of scotch in tow, he was all too quick to offer the five-finger discount.

I also co-hosted an impromptu Ron Jeremy retrospective in a large lecture hall that we had not requested permission for. Using my best academic jargon, I improvised a keynote speech in which I demanded that my audience understand Ron Jeremy's penis as a metaphor for American cultural excess, and reminded them that the most famous appendage in American pop culture is attached to a Jew.

* If you became a celebrity, what secret would you be most fearful of having exposed?

Well, this of course:

I expect that if I were to become a celebrity, a thorough audit of my past romantic life would be endeavored. It would be only fair: the measure of a woman is the men who strive to keep her company. Unfortunately, I've never had any sort of romantic encounter with anyone famous. No Greek shipping magnates or scions of powerful captains of industry. Not even anyone Austin-local famous. Also, I've pretty much exclusively dated nerds. And not even edgy hipster nerds. I'm talking serious NERDS.

Here is the hard-core nerd I am happily married to:

Holding a tablet. He loves me and treats me well and has made me very happy. He's not a rich man, sometimes he bores me with technical lectures based on the Lindsey Publications Home Foundry Instructional Series, but we love each other and are best friends. Isn't that enough, Paris? ISN'T THAT ENOUGH?????

I suppose you want to hear that I'm a naughty girl with a hearty sexual appetite who is embarrassed and horrified by past sexual dalliances. Well, the only thing I really have in that department is this guy:

(photo removed by editrix)

I was 26, he was 19, a college student who frequently wore flannel jammie pants. We did the nasty in the filth-strewn confines of a West Campus co-op some six years ago. T'is all a blur and a memory now. Last time I saw him he was working the burrito line at the 'Bird. I hope he has a nice girlfriend and a film career.

I don't really have a lot of secrets. Sorry.

* Why do you think you would fit in with the socialite circle?

I come from a family with money, but I hate them and everything they stand for. Maybe Paris and her ilk could rehabilitate me. Being a bratty rich girl should have been my birthright. Is it too late for me?

Actually, I could write a paper about the parallels of the modern socialite set and ancient Greek bacchanals. Living to please just yourself and to be seen by others is a practice dating back to the ancients! Do those exclusive clubs have vomitoriums?

Post minimum of one (1) blog answering ALL of the following:

* Do you consider yourself fabulous? How so?

Why yes, I consider myself fabulous. I spent several beautiful years fag-hagging with these distinguished homosexuals:

(that's Ryan wearing my old Vermont t-shirt!)

(Daniel is fabulous AND British!)

And they will readily attest to my fabulousness and qualifications to identify as "fabulous" under the rubric of fabulousness currently subscribed to by today's fashion-forward gay men. I am a hit with the gay men as long as they aren't bitchy queens who overvalue style and appearance to the point of being parodies of themselves. In fact, I find it irresponsible to proclaim one's self "fabulous" without prior approval of at least a handful of seasoned fags. I've also written a novel, which is pretty fabulous, if you're, like, into reading. Which I am.

* What qualities make you the perfect celebrity BFF?

I spent four years as the BFF of a wildly charismatic woman:

I know what it is to have the spotlight shine on someone else. I was a very good sidekick and I know how to behave. I would never flash my crotch at anyone and rarely get drunk enough to engage in similar transgressions. I wouldn't want to steal Paris's thunder. Paris's vag takes precedence over mine, and is probably much better groomed, too.

* What similarities do you share with Paris? How are you different?

I actually pride myself on being as different from Paris as possible. But we could talk about that, maybe try to reach some common ground!

Actually, Paris and I are both from California and um... Yeah! California! We've both worked shitty service jobs, but when I did it it was for real and not for a reality show on Fox. Rich families, only mine isn't generous and all. Kind of like Aunt Zsa Zsa, with all the court and stuff! I'm totally down with driving with a dog in your lap!

* It's hard to stay in the public eye. How would you maintain the limelight?

Carry this instrument of pleasure around in a small purse:

It has also occurred to me that due to the upcoming recession, the public at large might look down upon Paris's reckless spending, ostentatious excess, and disrespect for L.A.'s service worker community. What Paris needs is a down-to-earth pal who will encourage her to donate to charity, shop at Target, and spend her time helping others rather than conducting herself in a spoiled, immature fashion.

I am also not above making out with other girls in front of paparazzi in order to generate buzz on D-list gossip blogs.

Posted by Zerd at March 15, 2008 07:21 PM