Paris and Roaming

“This isn’t fair! Mom! Mom! Mom!”

Boy, there’s going to be hell to pay when it becomes clear that the judge trumps the mom!

Imagine the conversation: It’s okay, dear, I'll get you out of that nasty place! You won’t ever have to go back there again! I’ll see to that if it’s the last thing I do. Imagine, putting MY daughter in jail.

The McMansion Incarceration Facility: Thanks, Mom. I don’t know what you told the sheriff, but I’m so glad it worked! Imagine me—in jail—with all those other prostitutes and drunks! And it’s like they never even said I was drunk when they arrested me that time. I mean, even they said I was just “under the influence.” That’s not like, drunk or anything, so what difference does it make? I don’t deserve this … it’s all my publicists’ fault that I was driving on a suspended license! He should be in jail, not me.

Courtroom: Cut to “the pose:” sway back, head tossed over one shoulder, that smoldering look aimed at the judge. It’s just a matter of time before he sees that I don’t belong here—not with all those real criminals. I’ll be back home in an hour. God, I could use a drink after all this drama!

Fade to the immediate remand to the custody of the police officers, who will escort your ass to jail, where you are to stay until I say you leave.

Perhaps Martha can drop by and give Paris some pointers, such as how to act graciously regardless of where you are incarcerated: McBarsville or McMansion.

Perhaps Dr. Phil can have a televised counseling session replete with tips on surviving one day at a time. He can have an in-studio audience of those women who have successfully completed their sentences sharing their survival stories.

Perhaps the right rev Al Sharpton can turn Paris into a poster child for judicial fairness, a role model for all white girls who get locked up with the minority criminals: look, Paris did her time, so shut up and do yours. Maybe just a touch of tan-in-a-bottle to make Paris look more ethnic.

The good news? The ankle monitor comes off.
The bad news? You’re going to have to learn to poop in semi-public.

The even better news? If you just do the time, you’ll earn 1 day off your sentence for each set of 4 days you complete. Let’s see, that means with 40 days left on the sentence, uh, 40 divided by 4, minus 1x times 4 – oh, well, Paris, you don’t have anything else to do, so you figure it out!