Oh God. It's Paris Hilton's book proposal.

Note the plan for a "mock warning sticker on front of book":

"Warning! If you open this book, you expose yourself to the dangerously fabulous lifestyle of Paris Hilton. Proceed at risk of strong envy - and strong impulse to emulate."

Yes, because I can think of nothing I envy more than the opportunity to have my beyond-skanky sex-tapes watched by millions of strangers. Jesus.

This book looks astonishingly bad. Look at Paris's Guide to Being an Heiress. It's obviously meant to be wittily tongue in cheek, but it's really, really not. It's just kind of tragic. And she 'grew up right next to [her sister]?' What a weird way of putting it. It's not like they had different parents or anything, and it looks like they lived in the same house. Jesus, if even your ghost writers can't master English, you're in trouble.

There are many, many things in this proposal which I would like to quote and mock, but once I started, I'd more or less have to quote the entire thing, which would ultimately rob me of the will to live. Especially the sick-making bit "by" her horrible little dog. Although I can't resist this

I'd love to have a boy named London and a daughted named China - I like kids' names with countries or cities [sic]. I just get a kick out of naming a kid after a famous city - like I was. I think it's funny. I had a cat named London."

Good sweet jesus.

Also, I can't say how much I hate the way modern culture openly asks us to envy the lives of vulgar, rich morons. MTV seems to have had about 50 "lifestyles of the loaded" weeks, which means even more episodes of Cribs and some stupid programmes about how the Beckhams spend all their mountains of cash. Lavish consumption has been raised to a virtue. And even though I love the feeling of coming home with lots of cool shopping bags as much as the next consumer monkey, I really, really hate the glorification of it.