If this is true, it just goes to show how limited a social circle with whom these folks have to associate. As in, "I hate you, Ms. Hilton, this week, but by next week I'll realize there's no one left in my ridiculously small, privileged world (who's not on payroll, nor too incestuously close) left to dish with." So it's just this top 1% of billionaire's kids, the movie & rock & rap stars, their slavish minions, the paparazzi weasels, the assorted PR media-machines, the hangers-on and wannabes, and the smug smartasses like myself.
But, oh my vicarious thrills, what if the gossip & intrigue is--dare I suggest it--
not true? What if the trash-talking that occurs is a response to the absurdity of their lifestyle, like Bugs Bunny says to Yosemite Sam:
"Them's fightin' words!" It's a put-on.
Fame is interesting, "famous people" are not--- but Paris Hilton's perfume smells really, really good, and JLo makes nice knickers. My life is uplifted and removed from its laborous drudgery because of them. I can posit bizarre conjecture about how they spend their days while consuming their products. Brandon Davis--you need a perfume--like Florida water for your newly-minted Santo Brandon statue on my altar, blessed and clean.
Perky Pat, over-n-out!