So little Paris has just headed off (today) to the slammer for her twenty three day sabbatical. Busting up rocks for a few weeks with her new gal pals. Making number plates. Developing new skills. A craft class or two perhaps. Learning to love jump suits.

If there's ever a time when she doesn't want to be gorgeous, it's the next three weeks. Poor Baby. How dare that nasty judge make her be responsible for her actions. She didn't mean it; it was all a silly misunderstanding.

Besides... probation and loss of license are such ambiguous terms anyway. "Oh, you meant no driving... at all?"

What was he thinking that silly old judge? Did he not know who she is? Did he not know the Paris rules? Did he not get how obscenely rich and influential she is? Not to mention, stunningly thin? Surely someone that attractive couldn't be a criminal?

"Can't we just make this go away... Mr Judgeywudgey? What if I cry a bit?"

Apparently not. Clearly he missed the Paris memo. Maybe she didn't pout enough in court.

Of course there are rules for us normal folk (you and me). And then... there are the rules for the spoiled, self-centered, obnoxious, pretentious, precocious, immature, irresponsible, stupidly-wealthy, surgically-enhanced, dysfunctional "famous" people that all our kids (seemingly) aspire to be.

(Heavy sigh).

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