Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Times are hard. Hurricanes, the Russian school siege, a projected $442 billion federal deficit, the nastiest presidential campaign in history, etc etc. It seems like the world is going to hell in a handbasket. So it's nice to turn away from the real, depressing news and look towards the sublimely ridiculous goings-on in the fairy-tale world of low society...

This story, children, involves an evil queen with extreme blonde extensions named Victoria Gotti and her Troll Doll-lookalike sons; a priveleged and wildly overhyped spoiled princess with extreme blonde extensions named Paris Hilton; AND a conniving courtesan with extreme blonde extensions named Lizzie Grubman (everybody's favorite hit-n-run driver and bitchy harridan--she's the infamous p.r. flack who ran her SUV over SEVERAL people in line at a Hamptons nightclub after arguing with the doorman, fled the scene, and parlayed it all into an upcoming reality tv show--only in America!).

One magical evening, the NY Daily News gleefully reports, "when Paris Hilton dissed Victoria Gotti and her boys - John, Carmine and Frankie - in Miami, Mama Gotti was furious...

The battle of the blondes broke out the other day in Miami when Victoria brought her "Growing Up Gotti" sons Carmine, 18, John, 17, and Frankie, 14, to the nightclub Mansion - specifically to meet their fellow reality TV star Paris.

"Carmine has had the biggest crush on Paris," Victoria explains to us.

Shortly after arriving, the daughter of departed Teflon Don John Gotti sent over a beefy security guard to inform the hotel heiress that they would like the pleasure of her company.

'Who the [bleep] are the Gottis?" a high-spirited Paris is said to have snapped.

Told that Paris didn't want to see him, Carmine was crestfallen.

His mother was furious.

'I've helped that girl,' says Victoria, a Star magazine columnist. 'She came to me after her sex-tape scandal and I did a story where she got to defend herself.

'Remember? "Paris: I'm Not a Tramp!"'

"For her to say she doesn't know me or my boys is ridiculous. And if she wants to say you don't know me, then at least be polite."

Enter mutual friend Lizzie, the PR princess who knows something about embarrassing headlines and who also has a reality-show deal.

Told by Victoria what happened, she talked to Paris, who - perhaps mindful that angering a Gotti can be hazardous to your health - tried to make nice.

'I don't think Paris meant to be rude,' Lizzie tells us. 'It was a misunderstanding in a loud nightclub. The next day, I was with Frankie [Gotti], and we saw Paris. She couldn't have been nicer. But Frankie didn't want to talk with her, out of loyalty to his brother.'

Victoria she has no interest in Hilton's belated sweetness.

'As far as I'm concerned, when I see her next time, it's going to be, 'Paris who?'"

And everyone lived happily ever after. Especially me! Oh, GOD, there are so many awesome things about this story. First of all, Victoria Gotti makes Donatella Versace look like a shy, retiring wallflower. She is frighteningly blonde and tan and Married To the Mob-ish. She also writes terrible books, has a gossip page in my beloved Star, and her own tv show. Her father was John Gotti. Her husband is in prison for, you know, whatever. SHE IS NOT TO BE TRIFLED WITH! She is a tigress! She will claw your eyes out if you make one false move near her hideous cubs! Paris "I'm Not A Tramp" Hilton, you are out of your league, here, trust me! Take Lizzie's advice and kiss Mama Gotti's ASS!!!

Jesus, if I had to choose who to be stuck in an elevator with out of all these people I might just pick NONE OF THE ABOVE and throw myself down the elvator shaft. Lizzie Grubman is the ultimate New Yawk monstrous loudmouth power-mad shrew from hell! Paris Hilton is...Paris Hilton! The "Gotti" sons (that is NOT their last names, I want to point that out AGAIN) could poke an eye out with their insanely over-gelled hair. And Victoria Gotti scares the bejesus out of me. Lord, I just realized that every single player in this saga has their own reality show. Wow. How about that. It really IS the end of the world, isn't it?

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