Ha-Ha-Ha, Paris Is Burning

What is wrong with all the TV talk-show commentators and guest experts who are peeing their pants with glee over Paris Hilton’s prison predicament? Sure, Paris is a rich, spoiled brat who could learn a lesson or two. So what?

Is that any reason to salivate on national TV while describing the cavity search Paris will have to endure while “other inmates look on?”

Or repeat ad nauseum the cliché that, “Jail is no Hilton.”

Or crow that, “She won’t sleep on 400-thread-count sheets in the slammer.” (I guess these news hounds don’t get the Neiman Marcus catalog. Paris wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping on anything less than 1,200-thread-count sheets.)

And, umm… why is it only women journalists spewing this vitriol through bared teeth and fogged-up glasses, while their male counterparts give the same news only passing attention? On the May 14th Nancy Grace show, an otherwise sane guest host expressed her outrage that Paris should receive $100,000 per appearance at parties. “Hey,” she said. “I’m available.”

Yes, dear. We know you are.

If all these blood-sniffing female commentators are so enjoying Paris’ humiliation, punishment, and compromised personal safety, why don’t they volunteer to become interrogators at one of our government’s top-secret Black Sites? Surely, there are young, blonde, slender, fashionably dressed, sexually liberated, spoiled rotten terrorists, famous for absolutely nothing, who deserve their attention.

Sisterhood is powerful… except in the litter box.