The single most depressing story I've read all day was this.
I'm not at the point of wishing her dead, or wishing that she would accidentally kill somebody so they would send her to prison for considerably longer than 45 days. I just wish she would...go away. And not go away in a manner in which we'd still all be subjected to tabloid headlines on what happened to her for the next 20 years (hence the reason why I'm not wishing for an alien abduction. Plus, really, if there was ever a just cause for aliens wiping out life on Planet Earth in a vengeful burst of explosions, Paris Hilton being among them might do it). Just stop existing in the public consciousness. That in one, great sudden burst of intuitive brilliance, everyone in the world would realize what that creature is and then suddenly be revolted at the notion that they had been paying any attention to her.
People who actually spent money on her last album should be willing to make large charitable donations as an attempt at atonement for their sin of hideously bad musical taste. Paparazzi and news editors that followed her would fling themselves into the ocean as an act of contrition. Or join a monastery. Something. Anything.
Normally I do my level best at ignoring that woman. But that headline caught my eye, I became significantly depressed and felt it was either rant about it or throw myself off the nearest tall building. Which, around here, might not do the job.
Besides if there is a just God I will live just long enough to see her ruined. Or to have forgotten she ever existed.