With Rosie O'Donnell as the Warden and Tara Reid as Baby Doll

One thing to add to last night’s post. How ballsy was the casting agent who went up to Warren G and went, “Dude, you really need to be on Celebrity Fit Club.” I mean that is asking for an inordinate amount of trouble. I could see how they were able to get Young MC a few seasons back (though it still bugs me that everyone in the cast referred to him as “Young” as if that was his first name) but Warren G? That is some pretty impressive casting.

Since I am tired and don’t really have anything important to write about tonight I figure that I might as well talk about the big news story that I have completely failed to mention over the past few days, which is Paris Hilton’s impending imprisonment. First, I have to thank my friends over at Gawker Media who I believe were the first people to print shirts that read “Don’t Free Paris” in order to counteract the “Free Paris” t-shirts that you are going to see on hipsters starting this Thursday. It was cool when I was growing up and passed by a guy who was selling “Free James Brown” t-shirts. Paris Hilton, not so much.

(Oh and I haven’t seen anyone write about this but am I the only person who is envisioning a Women in Prison film out of this whole mess? Something like Reform School Girls 2 starring Paris Hilton with a guest appearance by Martha Stewart as the lifer who shows the new girl the ropes. The script pretty much writes itself.)

I honestly don’t know if I have ever seen a 45 day prison sentence viewed with such widespread acceptance by society. I actually think our collective culture is glad to see Paris get sent off to the clink for a while just so we won’t have to deal with her for a change. There is absolutely no concern about what this might mean for her future or how it might affect her psyche. At this point, no one even views her as a real person. She is a Barbie doll brought to life, complete with multiple outfits, vacuous stare and a propensity to melt when exposed to an open flame. Heck, she’s not even a Barbie. That’s a little too classy. She’s one of those dolls you get at a 99 cents store as a present for a child you really can’t stand. One of those where you don’t want to touch it because if you do you end up having to wash your hands for several hours in order to feel clean.

That said, depending on when she serves her sentence I may or may not see her at my beloved Lindsay’s 21st birthday party in July. Why yes, of course I’m invited. In the “I’ll rent a tux, make my way to Vegas, and act like I’m working there” sort of way. Either that or the “these air vents have to lead into the nightclub at some point” way, which too be honest would probably be more effective. It’s going to be the biggest party of the year as she finally can’t get in trouble for partying. Well, ignoring that whole rehab thing, which could be a potential downer. Just wait, this is going to be the celebrity story of the summer.