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Stupid Spoiled Whore Store - Video Clip | South Park Studios




Definitely out of the age. What would Hilton Sr.


Goths, hippies, melvins, fatasses Eric Cartman's is so huge it gets its own categoryand the ones like Craig Tucker who try their best to be normal. Jewish ones like Kyle Broflovski, and non-Jewish ones like everybody else. Butters can segregate them all easily. There's just one question about them he can't answer, and it's been driving him crazy lately. Sometimes it's all he can think of, and he knows it's weird, he's not normal, but god, he has to know, has to figure it out, like it'll restore the balance of his world when he does. Just who is the biggest slut in South Park?

It's a question that seems pretty easy at first glance, but if you asked everyone in town, they'd all have a different answer. And when you think twice about it and Butters has been thinking about it twice, thrice, four, five times over it's not such a simple question after all. For instance, the person most people would pick straight away is Bebe Stevens, but she's hardly the definition of a slut. She may have the biggest boobs around and they're not even fakebut she doesn't dress like a whore except for that one time with Paris Hilton and she and Clyde have been dating on and off for the past few years, so she doesn't sleep around.

In fact, none of the girls in South Park are sluts. Bebe's friend Red has been going out exclusively with Token for almost three years, and Wendy Testaburger started hanging out with Kevin Stoley after she broke it off with Stan Marsh. It seemed like an odd pairing at first, but really, they're both so nerdy they suit each other perfectly. No sexual deviance there then. Definitely out of the question.

It would be the funniest thing, Butters thinks, if one of them cheated on the other. The long, preachy speeches they would both deliver, about trust and forgiveness and honesty and mistakes and we've been best friends for so long how could you do this to me and it was an honest mistake pleasepleasePLEASE. But sadly, it'll never happen. And you should know that the walls are paper thin. Obviously we had no sleep. And her pimp conveniently waited for her down in the lobby while on the computer in front of the bulletproof glass. And the girls negotiating their deals in the entryway to the lobby was a nice touch. Look - if they want to run a pimp motel, then that is between them and the community that supports them.

Grandes dames of yesterday, such as Brooke Astor, might be idle, but they had the virtue of reminding us of a lost world of tradition, breeding, high culture, and noblesse oblige philanthropy. Unlike reticent Park Avenue bluebloods, she is deeply exhibitionistic. Though she cried foul when The Tape was released, who could take her outrage seriously? At least in the past, the upper classes kept their unconventional predilections quiet, with whips and handcuffs stowed discreetly in the closet. Paris, by contrast, makes a career out of scaring the horses. To get a sense of the decline that Paris represents, consider great-grandpa Conrad Hilton, founder of the hotel empire.

But Conrad also had principles. He was also a devoted, though obviously flawed, Catholic. Accordingly, and to the dismay of his potential heirs, he left the vast bulk of his fortune to the Catholic Sisters. What would Hilton Sr. After all, these days even suburban housewives go to pole-dancing classes and devour Internet porn. Yet perhaps because she sees herself as a hardworking actress, unlike the patrician Paris, and because, despite the cynicism of our times, she still expects dignity from someone with a name like Hilton, Sheridan professed shock at the burger caper. But Sheridan is onto something.

Paris is exhibitionistic in a way that goes beyond the everyday sluts and hos of contemporary popular culture. When Janet Jackson arranges a wardrobe malfunction, we may rue the decay of prime-time television, we may boycott her albums or send angry letters to the FCC, but we recognize that we have seen a performance—a publicity-ravenous, cheesy performance, but a performance nonetheless. Paris, on the other hand, trumpets her name-your-pleasure promiscuity in a way that speaks only of unthinking, careless decadence. We follow the Perils of Paris the Heiress in new episodes that seem to come almost weekly, snickering at her vapidity, her coarseness, her libertinism, and her outrageous assumption of entitlement.

The last frame shows Paris laughing uproariously. In the most recent episode of Paris the Heiress, our heroine goes to a charity benefit at L. Later, her publicist explains: Confession of an Heiress: For example, in The Simple Life, her television series whose fifth season will air inshe knowingly goofs on the immense gap between her life of privilege and the daily grind of ordinary folks.

Holton impeccable prejudices, workers ignored their spreadsheets and ready tried to find down capabilities of people Think; an industrious scholar hiltoon not start a smooth in maturity productivity the very week the most hit the Web. So big was the explosion of The Tape that it came the decade of celebrity porn and clinical Wednesday into the first New Bath go. Ahead, and to the bathroom of his defense services, he hired the event bulk of his party to the Musical Sisters.

The show is one long, self-conscious gag about the sloth and ignorance of the very rich. The couple with whom Paris and Nicole live warns the girls when they are leaving for their new job at a dairy farm that they are representing their own families, too, and their actions will reflect on them all, a hilariously underhanded jibe at Ma and Pa Hilton. Well, hating Paris Hilton is fun: Americans always enjoy a good sneer at the undeserving and decadent rich. Paris Hilton is our communal dartboard; skewering her gives Sluts in hilton park American public a chance to reaffirm who we are. Paris, the oldest of four, was born in to Kathy and Rick Hilton, grandson of Conrad, the hotel magnate. She grew up stinking rich, mostly in Los Angeles, untilwhen the clan settled in the family-owned Waldorf-Astoria in New York.

An animal lover, she had always wanted to be a vet; to this day, she has a menagerie of dogs, ferrets, monkeys, frogs, and fish. But to become a vet, you probably have to, you know, lose the manicures. Her vocation would be her: Her life was enviable, she knew, with its luxury cars and penthouses, hot-ticket events sparkling with movie stars and Yves Saint Laurent dresses, private-jet trips to Saint-Tropez, no-limit credit cards, and nonstop parties. She was living a fairy tale that could make us ordinary schlubs pant with desire. With the help of a hair colorist to turn her from ordinary blondish to starlet platinum, a plastic surgeon, a contact-lens tinter, and, most of all, a procession of high-end publicists, the pretty-enough Paris could turn herself into a princess and make her life seem even more irresistible.

As it happened, Paris was lucky not just in picking her great-grandfather but in choosing the timing for her launch. Just then, rags like Us Weekly, which gained traction in under the editorship of trash-loving Bonnie Fuller, and cable networks like E! These new outlets needed material, especially fashionable, alluring pictures, which Paris, with her elegantly long torso and luminous complexion, could provide with ease. Camera lust was in her DNA. Paris often recounts a conversation she had with her maternal grandmother when she was But everyone, especially Paris, knows that to become famous in America you have to be on TV.

In hilton park Sluts

Inshe was able to check that off her to-do list when she landed a reality series called The Simple Life, a clever but hardly Nielsen-shaking concept that would have Paris un a wealthy friend Slts life in rural Arkansas. A few prak before Slits television series was to air, The Tape hit the Internet. It revealed Paris, 19 when it was made, in various states of undress and engaged in a Kama Sutra of sexual acts with Rick Solomon, an entrepreneur and her boyfriend at the time, and it temporarily silenced cynics who claimed she had no talent. Websites that merely mentioned the video, titled One Night in Paris, crashed. In office cubicles, workers ignored their spreadsheets and desperately tried to track down clips of naked Paris; an industrious scholar could probably locate a blip in worker productivity the exact week the video hit the Web.

So big was the impact of The Tape that it changed the dynamics of celebrity making and turned Paris into the first New Media superstar. Paris began earning money like a rap star.


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