For the first time in my life, I checked out The most famous blogger in the land. The blog that launched a thousand similar, snarky postings.

I held out for a long time. I guess I just assumed it was pure trash. And while I’d say a good %85 of it IS trash, it’s really fucking funny. And he says a lot of things that I’m sure get him in some pretty hot water with his intended targets. He says straight up what magazines and other forms of press only allude to. (Lindsay Lohan, your mother is a bad parent)

What a great existence, to get paid what I can only assume is obscene amounts of money to chatter and gossip about people, and then write about it with your acid tounge. Perez Hilton not only has excellent website graphics and hilarious finds (Jodie Foster’s French disco song is one for the ages) but he’s got legitimate sponsors – even if it is that incredibly creepy Dove Cream oil bodywash – you know, the one that tried having a “real person” make a “real ad” that just turned out looking like a snuff film at the beginning of a CSI episode.

I guess I leave his website with mixed feelings. While I had a good laugh at many points (mostly about stupid things celebrities say or do) it felt kind of gross afterwards, like a McDonalds breakfast. Every once in a while, have that McMuffin and hashbrowns, but if you eat it every day, you’ll be full of greasy, fatty, death. DEATH!!

(Disclaimer: Perez Hilton does not induce death – only laughter, and a slight grimy feeling on the surface of your skin and conscience)