paris hilton

I recently read in the New York Post (sometimes I like to go slumming – what can I say?) that the girl who is Famous For Being Famous just wants "… a man to fall in love with, one for life. Someone that I can start a family with."

Of course right around the same time as Paris made this comment, she was running around the clubs of Europe with no underpants and a variety of boy-toys, then posing for a new wine ad wearing nothing but a coat of gold latex and a few paint-roller marks. Sometimes it's hard to take her seriously.

Paris is almost the same age as my son, so I called him up and asked his opinion. "If I woke up on Christmas morning and discovered that I was Paris Hilton, he said, "I'd want handgun. And one bullet. And instructions covering which end of the gun to put up against my head." Apparently he's not a real big Paris Hilton fan.

I guess nobody else I asked was a big fan either, since they all had pretty much the same answer - except for one person who said she would want an extra bullet "as a kindness to that creepy little dog."

So what exactly do you wrap up under the tree for a girl who gets paid $50,000 (plus an extra $10,000 for not wearing any underpants) just to show up at a bar mitzvah?