We'll always have Paris

I’m on my knees, imploring you for mercy. But I realize forgiveness will be hard to muster. Seldom is a blogger afforded an opportunity like the situation that arose last week. Paris Hilton is arrested for driving with a snoot full en route to indulging her burger jones at an In ‘N Out Burger, not an outlet of the chain that paid her to savor its burger with near-orgasmic delight in a soft-porn commercial last year. And I almost miss it and the opportunity to note it here. If it weren’t for a heads-up from West Coast editor Lisa Jennings, I might’ve torn up a winning lottery ticket, so to speak.

But four days after non-stop coverage of the lodging heiress’ arrest for driving with a blood alcohol content of .08 percent, I’m hoping to redeem myself by recounting the rest of the story. It seems that Hilton insisted she was merely famished, not smashed. She explained to a Los Angeles radio station that she had a craving for a burger, an In ‘N Out burger, to be exact. She not only mentioned that brand name, but seemingly stressed it.

And, no, she hadn’t suffered any blows to the head before offering that explanation. There’s a reason stars have handlers.

Poor Carl’s, the chain that paid her to appear in one of the industry’s most controversial commercials. It catches more than a little heat for airing the spots. And then it’s dissed by Hilton after she downs what she insists was only one margarita. It should buy the Taco Bell chihuahua and sic it on Hilton’s exalted rat.

Of course, it could try spin-doctoring. It could put forth the idea that it’s burgers are so large and nourishing that Hilton only eats them after working up a sweat while washing her car or vigorously doing other chores around the house. No doubt in a bikini. Soaked.