So, I don't know what kind of a person this makes me...

...but this morning I totally dreamt that Paris Hilton died. Maybe my mind thinks that she completes the trifecta that is Gary Coleman and Dennis Hopper. I don't know. In my dream E!News was running this special where they compiled all these clips, and Ryan Seacrest was all, "When we come back, we'll show you Paris Hilton at her sexiest!" and she was pouting into the camera and making googly eyes. Hollywood shed a tear. Apparently Sandra Bullock was involved somehow with Paris' early "career." I told you, I don't even know. There was even a part when they acknowledged that Paris Hilton was the first person to become famous simply because she was famous--which you know is going to happen whenever she does die. Yet, everything was so tasteful. They didn't even mention the sex tape. That's your first clue right there that it was all a dream. (They also forgot to mention her dog's name...Bite-Size? Overgrown Rat? Brown Turd with Four Legs?)

And where did Ms. Hilton die? Duh! Paris, France. I don't know what she died from (skank-itis, perhaps?), but I guess she was hospitalized, and then France suffered a blackout, and Paris was in tears because of it. (City!Paris, I think, not Slut!Paris. Although, either could work.) And it was BIG news! Like whole cities shut down and people were in mourning and...I was slightly miffed that it wasn't true once I woke-up.

Of course, now I'm wondering why I chose Paris Hilton as the Third Death sacrifice. Lindsay Lohan is a waaaaaaay better candidate.

Third Death-agon: *picks pieces of LiLo out of his teeth* MMMMMMM....THIS SACRIFICE SHALL LAST ME A MILLENNIUM!!! I AM SATISFIED!!! AND JUST A LITTLE DRUNK!!! ARRRRGGGG! WHERE'S THE NEAREST LESBIAN BAR???? I FEEL LIKE DANCIN'!!!

This is why I shouldn't be the one to wake-up at eight o'clock in the morning for the plumber.