Ping Pong With Paris

Human table tennis played in Los Angeles is definitely better than playing beer pong at a local watering hole. Oh sure, there's the possibility with beer pong that one can get inebriated to varying degrees, but, face it, police lines and tabloid reporters and photographers would NEVER find that story interesting. CNBC, FOX and all the other outlets would not break into regular programming to report the comings, goings and comings again of you and I playing People Pong and sloshing beer around (though you and I would probably NOT get in our cars and drive home wasted). That's why we have Paris Hilton.
We can vicariously take great comfort from the fact that this heinous criminal and all-around ne'er-do-well is back doing hard time in the LA County Crowbar Hotel. The fact that she left the courtroom in hysterics calling for her mother only adds to our pleasure. Serving 45 days making license plates will serve to make her more like us, and for that we are grateful. I mean, having strawberry cupcakes delivered to her mansion while serving "house arrest" really didn't make any of us shiver with fright. Not much of a deterrent there. Imagine how the quasi-criminals in Los Angeles must have viewed the whole thing: an initial 45-day sentence, amended to 23, amended to 5 with 35 locked up in a mansion with servants, no restrictions on visitors and the company of ones favorite toy dog. Meanwhile, some inner city kid is doing two years for spraying graffiti on an abandoned building. The Rev. Al Sharpton said as much when he was interviewed about it.
Is the LA slammer overcrowded? yes? Is staph infection a real problem there? yes? Is the food crappy? probably. IT'S JAIL! Don't want it to happen to you? DON'T DO CRIME! Do they have doctors to treat rashes? I guess. Can a shrink come to visit you there? probably. Everybody in Beverly Hills has one, anyway, so there's probably one on call. Should Paris get to go home because she was traumatized by being locked up? I don't know. Crying hysterically, "It's not fair!" and calling aloud for Mom is definitely not cool, though, unless one is ten or so. I'm just glad it wasn't me.
My only experience with prison left me sweating, shaking and terrified, AND I ONLY WENT TO VISIT! It's a long story, but I went to visit Manny in the Oregon State Penitentiary 20 years ago. From the moment I walked in, I was claustrophobic. Hearing the doors clang shut behind me sent shivers through every part of my body. Knowing I'd be out in two hours didn't help...my breath got short, and I began to sweat A LOT! After a 30-minute visit, I almost ran to my car to get away. The only thing that stopped me was that I thought the guards in the tower might get nervous and shoot me as a potential escapee.
The people I do feel bad for, though, are the club owners. There is definitely going to be a slowdown: Lindsay is in treatment, Britney is trying to straighten out and Paris is in the hoosegow. Looks like a slow night in Tinseltown. Maybe they'll all go see Oceans 13.