Fish-inna-barrel wank of the day
The NY Times newsblog The Lede reports that Paris Hilton is out of jail and under house arrest. Predictably, the comments thread explodes. 690 comments and counting.

My favorite part about this is actually not the comments thread (which is full of all the self-righteous wankery you'd expect, on all sides). It's the Recent Posts sidebar and the comment counts therein:

I find it especially funny, and possibly even a touch ironic, in light of the sheer number of people in the Hilton comments thread ranting about how news is SERIOUS BUSINESS and complaining about the girl getting yet more airtime.

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evilsqueakers
2007-06-12 04:50 pm UTC (link)

*grins* Brunette with rosy ivory skin and mood blue eyes. I *know* cool colors pop against me and make me stand. Needless to say, when I want "HERE I AM" I wear them. Can't miss me. Added bonus? Blue eyes are more vibrant. I can where most cool and pastel colors. I look disgusting in orange, sage greens, and anything with yellow undertones. Also, gold jewelry doesn't pop nearly as much as platinum and silver. Guess which I wear.

I hate going to funerals because I can't wear jeans. That's just sad.

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napalmnacey
2007-06-12 04:55 pm UTC (link)

See, I have olive skin that's pale. So I can do the pale brunette with ocean-blue eyes wearing subtle colours thing, or I can do the Mediterranian woman thing and wear bold colours. Mum's Scottish, Gran was Maltese.

Blue eyes are great against dark hair. Very dramatic! There are some oranges I look terrible in! I get away with most colours though.

I love jeans. I have this super-flared pair that I got at an op shop for 9 bucks. The best jeans I've bought in years. They hug my butt beautifully and look great in t-shirts. Very rock'n'roll, which is all good for me. Jeans are the best, man. Classic.

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evilsqueakers
2007-06-12 05:09 pm UTC (link)

See, my family's mostly American mush. But supposedly back in the 1800s, I'm mostly Irish and English on my dad's side. Who the hell knows on my mom, except that my great-grandmother was supposedly full-blooded Cherokee. Emphasis on the supposedly. Mom stuck in a sage green dress when I was younger, and oh my god, no one could have looked as pale and sickly and not be in hospital as I did. Terrible.

The funny part? I started out blonder than Barbie. So best of both worlds. I like my nearly black hair now. My mom has black hair and my dad is dishwater blond, so I got a weird two or three shades less than Mom but way darker than Daddy. It makes for some popping. It's especially so when my eyes are more of an electric blue and sparkle. Everyone notices then. What woman doesn't love that kind of attention?

All I have is my Wal-mart's pair, but I love those things. They're all comfy and broken in. Fuck skirts, they're not half as fun. Besides, that requires hose, and finding those for me is hella hard. I'm short and fat, they don't exist.

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