Paris and Baby Luv

Paris Hilton must be one of the most insatiable gluttons on the planet!

I didn’t say anything when her sex tape got out for all to see. I kept quiet about her ridiculous, slumming-it, “reality” show The Simple Life, and her fall-out with her best pal, Nicole Richie. I didn’t let her have it when her Chihuahua went missing from her handbag. I left her alone when she purchased her own engagement ring from her ex-fiance. And I didn’t even mock her recent declaration that she was planning to stay celibate for a full year. But this is too much.

I’ve never understood the desire of some nouveau riche folk, or inheriteau riche folk, to possess wild animals. Rappers buy tigers as house pets. Some people buy monkeys they give up on after one too many poop flings. And now the foolish heiress has received a bite from her “pet” kinkajou named Baby Luv.

What the hell is a kinkajou? It’s a racoon-like, razor-toothed mammal with a Gene Simmons tongue that’s native to Central and South America. If you think poop flinging is an unappealing trait in a pet, how about having a wee furry friend that screams bloody murder when it’s fed and claws whoever’s close by whenever it feels like it? Baby Luv used Paris as a scratching post last December, and just last week, it bit her. She had to have a tetanus shot. She should have had an MRI from the neck up, too.

There’s no lack of stupid teenage girls – I should know, I was one once, albeit not stupid enough to look up to an idiotic media whore like Paris Hilton. She’s making these pocket pets look adorable to impressionable youth by wearing them like jewellery. They are not adorable. They’re also illegal in Los Angeles where the Hiltons live so one can only hope there will be charges to follow. But what happens to Baby Luv, so far away from its natural habitat? It will probably end up in a zoo and the selfish heiress will replace her with whatever critter strikes her fancy next.