Blogcritics The critical lens on today's culture & entertainment
Yes, I said her stash — not her, um, well, you know what I mean. More to the point, there are new pictures of Paris exposing the contents of her purse, including a rather suspicious bag of green leafy matter while in the front row of a Dolce & Gabbana catwalk show.
What kind of leaves, you ask? Well, according to her publicist, that is a question from which we shouldn't draw any conclusions.
Hilton publicist Elliot Mintz says for the record, "Things are not always as they appear. It would be unfair to draw any conclusions based solely on these photos."
Wow, he's good. Because for a minute, I almost thought that Paris had a dime bag of some tender sativa, in nice little easy-to-pop-in-your-pipe form, wrapped in a convenient travel-sized, straight-from-your-dealer baggy. But hells, y'all, that's just her personal stash of chamomile tea, for those late nights when she has trouble relaxing.
Sadly, this isn't Mr. Mintz's first foray into spinning 
Paris's proclivities for public behavior more befitting the Kottonmouth Kings than an heiress. Over the summer, Mr. Mintz was forced to issue this statement in response to video of Paris smoking what appeared to be a joint outside an L.A. club: "I just want to get something clear with you. Paris Hilton rolled her own tobacco cigarette. It was tobacco that you saw."
Yes, and crack is that space between your butt cheeks.
Honestly, if I were Mr. Mintz I would politely write the following letter to the Hilton camp:
Dear Paris,
As of this moment, I am resigning from my position as your publicist. Despite my earnest efforts to the contrary, you have made it clear that you are completely uninterested in conducting yourself in a way that is fitting of your station in life. It is not just that you are consumed by self-destructive habits, for that is to be expected of someone whose parents gave them everything but love and time. It is more your wanton disregard for my position and ability to parlay your stupidity into anything other than pathetic riddles and allusive enigmas to explain your behavior. I am a publicist, not a magician. No amount of money can make you more than you are, which in the vernacular of the day is something the youth might call a skeezer.
Farewell, and may you some day find the dignity and wherewithal to pull yourself up from the dank, sloppy sewer in which you have chosen to wallow.
It has to be gettin' ri-freaking-diculous defending this petulant re-offender of the senses, yet, somehow the man keeps plugging away. It's hard to say who has less sense of self-worth, Paris or Elliot.
This latest stunt comes on the heels of last week's barroom brawl featuring the young Ms. Hilton in a throwdown with Dancing With The Stars reject Shanna Moakler, the soon-to-be-former Mrs. Travis Barker, of Blink 182 fame.
According to separate reports filed by both women, an altercation occurred shortly after 
1:00 a.m. last Wednesday inside the L.A. nightclub Hyde (where else?). Elliot Mintz gave Paris's side of the story: "She was approached by Moakler using the most vile of language and then struck Hilton in the jaw with her fist."
Paris claims this was an unprovoked attack, unless you count devouring Moakler's soon-to-be-ex husband Travis Barker mantis-style unprovoked. It seems that Shanna isn't taking recent stories and photos of Paris and the obscenely tatted Travis Barker with aplomb.
Moakler, on the other hand, remembers a slightly different version of events and says she was "attacked by Hilton's ex-boyfriend Stavros Niarchos, 
who bent her wrists, poured a drink on her and 
shoved her down some stairs" — this according to HER publicist, Susan Madore.
Either way, it was a win-win. How can you lose with Shanna having her head doused in liquor and Paris punched in the puss?
If you threw in a rampaging elephant and some clowns, you'd have yourself a three-ring circus.
