I have a confession to make.
I'm addicted to celebrity gossip. It's a disgusting guilty pleasure. Got dirt on Lindsay Lohan? Bring it on. Paris Hilton likes kissing a dirty ferret? Tell me more. Suri Cruise is a scientology created myth? Buy me the t-shirt. Nicole Ritchie is a singing nutjob?
For some reason, in the past month, I simply can't get enough. I think it's my vacation from the 351832156843121 things I have going on in my life. I have real things to worry about. I'm wrapping up on wedding plans. I'm doing major work on my condo. I'm planning an Art Fair. I'm getting my graphics work done for the theatre production. I'm in school. I don't get to party until the wee hours of the morning and only have a cigarette burn on my ass and a nasty letter from my boss to show for it. I have a real life.
So, maybe... just maybe.. it's okay to be a little wrapped up in celeb-reality. And if it's not... well... maybe I should just drive drunk and scream anti-semetic obscenities. Couldn't hurt, right?
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