Biting your Master to Spite your Race

HOUR: 5 and 12 of the longest doggie minutes of my existence

I hate to be a woof-ssy (primarily because the cats have that on lock) but...I have to say I'm more like Paris than I thought. I mean, at first, I really resented the fru-fru get ups. I hated that crystal and brass collar like Aryans hating working, but then I got seduced by it. My doggie therapist calls it 'canine luxury entrapment'. See, if I don't HAVE the goods, and think I'm just fine being naked, then my master smacks me down and makes me feel bad about NOT wearing clothes. "heathen, savage...bad Tink, that's a bad Tinkerbell"...I mean, REALLY...Paris never beat me. She knows I'd take her out in her sleep. But MY BREED...mi perros y perritas...it's MY duty to save them. I'm like a mixture of Spiderman and Jesus, really. I want to save the other dogs, but I also want to be naked...on a cool symbol...for a couple of thousand years.

Woof, wooof! with great power, comes great dogsponsibility!

p.s. it's pissing me off that jails are so dogmatic (don't mind the pun). It's just a system of control for the species...wake up!!! ABRE TUS OJOS, ESSE!

Backstory: why I bit the producer at the Today show

This is what my jaw looked like, when I sunk my angry teeth into that fresco whitey who put his hand in my Louis Vuitton bag...and I'm not going to tell you how much it cost, because that would be tre nouveu riche...

Hard to Keep the Rage In

HOUR: 5 and 9 minutes, 23 seconds, 11 milliseconds, 2-wait-1 nanosecond...

I'm in a really dark mood today, kids. Stay away from me or I'll bite you like I did that producer at the TODAY* show!

This phrase rattles in my doggie brain: I saw the best minds of my generation...wait, let me HOWL, and but on my best hipster/gangster pout...ready, annnd:

I saw the best breeds of my generation destroyed by

myspace, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the muttlike streets at dawn

looking for an angry fix...

I'm gonna bite the SHIT out of someone right now. I'm like a caged animal in here. FUCK! Hilton-world made me soft! I'm like SIDDARTHA!!!! I WANT to reject my riches and believe in something...but I'm consumed with RAGE and self hatred. I LIKE the good life. This cell sucks balls. And I don't even have any!

I want to just sink my teeth in Paris' little throat and let her know that she can't treat me like a dog! I think I'm still heated about her bringing that low-life chihuahua, Prince, into the house. He raped me, you know? He did.

I'm on a mission now. I want to channel that RAGGGGE inside of me. Maybe it's because my hide is dark, maybe that's why I'm so angry and want to spread hate in the lives of the Hiltons and little girls who worship Paris in general.

You know what? I am like Ghandi for dogs, really. Yea. That's it! Hoooowwwwwlll!

Imma go hump my bitch, esse, all this rage needs to be mounted and released!

DID I TELL YOU? I'M WRITING A SCREENPLAY!

HOUR: 5 and eight minutes

God. It looks like I'm going to be here for a long, long time. I think I saw a grey hair.

So, you know I wrote a book? Right, esse? Now that we’re in jail, I’m in chats with The Weinstein Company, to remake that old Tim Robbins movie, only they are going to call it the PAIRASKANKS REDEMPTION. It’s the warm tale of Paris and Nichole in jail for DUI’s. They spend 315 days in the clink. Paris asks Nichole (whose jail name is “Rich”) for a Rita Hayworth poster, and escapes after nights of singing “Stars are Blind” into the walls. They crumble, she escapes, and no one is the wiser, until the Warden removes the poster...to reveal...I can’t do it. I can’t give away the ending, no matter how many sausages you offer me!

SIMPLER LIFE: LIVE FROM RIKER'S ISLAND

HOUR: 5 and seven minutes

E! canned the idea of P&R going forward to do The Simple Life again, and have now changed the show to the SIMPLER LIFE: Live from Riker's! "We thought we were going to be giving advice to beauty queen hopefuls, we just didn't think it was going to be from our 12X2 cells!!

Golden Years

HOUR: 5 and six minutes

A fight just broke out in the clink. Paris was bragging about how I was on SNL after I blew up her spot in the porn world. She's about to get her teeth knocked out and become someone's wife! I have to bark to the puparazzi!

Get By with a Little Help from my Friends

HOUR: 5 and five minutes, 53 seconds

Ok. I've been in jail now for 25 years. I feel like Mandela. Without the positivity.

Who can I turn to in times of irritation? Why, the patron saint of rage in the fashion industry: Naomi Campell!

I axed for her opinion and she said, "Guurrl. When the world gives you rage, make bloggerage. Look at me! I'm writing about my community service in Haarper's Bazaar. I bet you thought I couldn't even read."

I'm afraid to tell her the truth. I heard the crystals on her Blackberry hurt like a mo-fo. That's what the girl with gangrene and a crack pipe up her neverland said, anyway.

Me...at Pride!

HOUR: 5 and five minutes

I'm here, and I'm soooo queer...I lick myself!

This is me at Gay Pride. I was sooo over being fondled in public! You heard about my 'disappearing act?' When Paris was forced to put up signs all over West Hollywood? Well, you know that's a gay neighborhood, right? She was just trying to out me. I was like, "Bitch, no you ditent" and so, I was chillin at grandma's house for like...six days and sh-yip! When she asked me where I was was, I was like, "shut up and carry me, ho!" And she did. She went right out and got me a $1,500 Louis Vuitton bag to carry me in, in fact. I just marked my territory alll over it! Stains for days, sista, daaays! doggitude, it's all in the doggitude!

I've got Paris trained, esse.

I've been in jail for 6 hours now. For a 35 year old bitch like me (I was born 2002, Halloween, puppies! Doo the math! Don't I look gooooood?) that's like...a dog year.

Who I Turn to in Desperate Times

HOUR: 5 and three minutes

Ok. The chew toy's out of the bag! I'm a lesbian. This is my bitch Shih Tzu Honey Child Ritchie. I don't want to bark and tell, but I you see her in that little coat, and all bets are off! Look, we're in jail and my options are slim. We were sort of put together after Nicole got sentenced too. Woof-ha! After I climbed off Honey, we had a good sniff over how the show can now be called THE SIMPLER LIFE: live from Rikers' Island.

One Paw at a Time

HOUR: 5 and two minutes

We’ve been in the clink now for almost 5 whole hours. That's like over a day in doggie time!!! It's all going according to plan, though. I’m tired of being just another stereotype, like that insipid Taco Bell dog! I don’t have an accent esse! My birth name is Lupita, and that racist twat Paris gave me the degrading name...loosely translated in Mexican means 'messing with cojones'. I’m a chihuahua, doggit! My species were believed to guide lost souls in the underworld. I just jumped the gun, and am doing it to Paris in THIS world. You know, dog's gotta do...

Tell you a secret, pincho? Paris doesn't make major decisions by herself. I tell her what to do. I do. It's a pain in the teet, but it's a job. I like my perks though. I get to ride around in a Bentley, talk to cops who pull me over and tell me how cute I am all the time. Poor Paris thinks it's all about her. Yip, yip!

This jail is actually cute. If there were music, it'd probably be like some of the after hours' clubs Paris takes me to. Why, if there were a swing in the corner, it'd be like the place we blew lines at last week! Sniff you later with more detes...

Just a chihuahua-trying to live a normal life

HOUR: 5, and one minute.

When last I blogged, I had to cut out! It was feeding time, and if I don't get my slop when they feed me, well...I have to trade my Vienna Sausage for thinks I can't bark about.

Anyway...I had this Machavellian plot to take down Paris...ever since she tried to play me with that Ferral Ferret. Savagery, I tell you! Savagery!

So, I'm big pimpin here. I look good, right? I'm the highest paid celebdogtante the world has seen. Go ahead, doggle me, woofipedia me, check me out on woofspace.com/topbitch...I'm doggie-nating the ruff and tumble business of being a top celebdogtante.

"So, why did I do it? Why'd you take down Paris and get her sent in jail?" you ask.

Taking down Paris was easy. I ate her suspension notice. I had indigestion, but that's cool. I lapped it down with some GHB/Ecstacy-laced water Paris gave me just before we went to the ivy. Boy, what a Cinco de Mayo she'll never forget, eh?

It was dogwesome! I even sent a fax to the President in Paris' name. Woof! Get your paws on it!...

http://www.parishiltonblog.org/entry/paris-hilton-beseeches-president-bush-for-pardon/

I did it because I'm tired of bitches like her getting all the attention. What about the fucking Mexicans that built this god damned country to make it great? What about the Native Americans who toiled to remain true to the human spirit and live in harmony with nature? This low-level BARBIE doll is merely a symbol for a plastic, accessory toting bitch who rapes the spirits of good people for their own reptilian agenda. Have you EVER asked yourself how the Hilton's got their money to begin with? Hmmm, yip yip, have you!?!?!?!?!

Open your eyes, Hansel and Gretel...for it's terrifying the world you all are heading in at the helm of people caring this much about her and her type.

Tinkerbell Hilton from the clinker: documenting my time in jail with Paris

HOUR: 5

In the criminal justice system, all defendants are innocent until proven guilty, either by confession, plea bargain, or trial by jury, unless you’re Paris Hilton. These are her stories. I guess I should write a caption that reads “Paw & Order", but I'm shivering right now. I don't have a faux mink like that bitch BitBit Spears. I'm Haaaaard!

If you don't know by now, I'm Tinkerbell Hilton. I'm a huge trendsetter, super cute and popular. I live large and in charge. I have a social lite who carries me around named Paris, or Valtrexx, as her doctor always says. She's my bitch. That's right! I said it...Paris is my bitch.

Just to warn you: my almost Machiavellian schemes have worked before, and they'll work again! I've had Paris go down on all fours, had her pop out a bunch of porns. I got skills. Now, I ate her judgment that said she was not supposed to drive for 90 days. Woof! Bet she didn't see that coming.