Friday, January 20, 2006

I Like, Solemnly Swear, or Whatever

Paris: Whatever I write in an e-mail, it doesn't mean anything. It is just words I write.
Attorney: So you use multiple exclamation points after normal sentences?

A woman named Zeta Graff (heiress to a diamond fortune, aspiring actress, and ex-girlfriend of Paris Hilton's ex-fiancee) is suing Paris Hilton for defamation. She claims that Paris intentionally planted a false item about her on Page Six of the New York Post that was picked up by a large number of tabloids and, she claims, has hurt her career by ruining her reputation.

Attorney: Okay. And what did you specifically say as far as you can recall?
Paris: I said something just along--I said just to her that I wanted her to stop saying things about Paris and I to the media and to stop using my name for fame and that she is old and should stay home with her child instead of being at night clubs with young people. And just that -- I just...What else did I say? Just that she is not cute at all.

Page Six of the New York Post today posted the entirety of Paris Hilton's two hundred plus page deposition. I read about a hundred and fifty pages of it this morning. This sounds excessive, but you don't understand until you've read it yourself.

Attorney: This Elton John party, was that a pre or post Oscar party?
Paris: Yes.

Paris: Not stalking. I would never say stalking. I'm not like a dude. Like, I think a girl can only stalk a guy. She can't really stalk another girl.

This is disgusting, but did anyone else go to a crappy public primary school? Did kids where you live get nosebleeds as frequently as my fellow first graders at Mohansic Elementary? Was your custodial staff similarly understaffed or under-observant, and it wasn't a rare site to see a trail of small blood drops on the linoleum beginning at, say, the gym and ending at the nurse's office?

This is what it's like reading one hundred and fifty pages of Paris Hilton's slander deposition. It's gross, and probably actually hazardous to my health, but I just have to follow the awful yet completely fascinating trail.

Attorney: So you are tapped somewhere on the back, and you said it was a hard tap?
Paris: It was pretty hard because usually I won't turn around because everyone always does that to me and it is usually someone annoying...

Attorney: Let me--maybe I can help you. Were there--Were they UK publications?
Paris: No. Like Us Weekly or In Touch. And there is stuff in London.
Paris's Attorney: London is a UK publication.
Paris: Right. UK. Whatever

If someone had asked me to write a short courtroom drama, like an episode of Law & Order or something, based on how I think Paris Hilton might respond to legal questioning, I still could not have dreamed dialogue as flabbergasting as what actually came out of her mouth. She demonstrates several instances of extreme difficulty with the language, manifested in turn as an inability to spell or talk:

Attorney: When you say "we," do you recall who you were with at that event?
Paris: Paris, me, Kim Stewart, and Terry.
Attorney: The same Terry that you had mentioned earlier?
Paris: Yes.
Attorney: You just don't know his last name?
Paris: It is like a weird Greek name. Like Douglas or -- I have no idea how to say it.

Attorney: I haven't read this declaration, but I did see that this Mr. Fred Khalilian was identified in the written response you had provided earlier in the case, I think it was, to have some knowledge as to the article or the incident.
Paris: I didn't even know he had gave a thingy.

Paris also gives valuable insight into the lives of the upper, upper class. Most days I'm still pretty excited that I can go to work and come home to an apartment that, yes, may be smallish and smack dab in the middle of Brooklyn, but it's mine and paid for by me. (My half, anyway.) But as it turns out, there are worlds of wealth I cannot fathom.

Attorney: Is there one particular maid who is like a close family friend to the Latsis family?
Paris: Kula.
Attorney: Kula, correct. And she lived with Paris Latsis and, I believe, yourself in Los Angeles?
Paris: No. She lived at the Beverly Hills Hotel.

Worlds where maids reside at the Beverly Hills Hotel. That's a real world. I didn't make that world up.

Attorney: Okay. Did Paris Latsis ever communicate to you a fear that he had of her?
Paris: Yeah.
Attorney: A physical--
Paris: He said that she threatened to send Mexican people to come and beat the shit out of him.

It is also a world in which there is, apparently, no greater threat than that of an angry south-of-the-border mob. I can be reasonably assured that world and my world, where even the Korean noodle flavors are in Spanish, shall never meet.

Paris's world not only comes with the privilege of wealth, but that of legal leeway I have never in my life witnessed. Take, for example, this testimony on a conversation she had with her sister:

Attorney: ...and what do you recall saying specifically to her about what had happened?
Paris: I was just, "Oh, my God, I saw Zeta last night." And she was like, "Who?" And I'm like, "That old lady." Whatever, da-da-da-da-da. And she was like "Oh, what happened?" And I'm like, "Nothing. I just called her ugly and old and told her she was desperate and that she was trying to be famous." I just told her that part.

Imagine, if you will, if Paris were on Judge Judy. Da-da-da-da-da does not a large settlement win and, moreover, would have Judy barking like a chihuahua in two seconds flat. Or better, imagine her as a poor defendant with a court appointed lawyer. I doubt they'd have the skills to floor the opposing attorney with such astounding bouts of legal brilliance as this:

Attorney: Let me just take a step back because I didn't ask about what Val Kilmer had said about Zeta, if anything. Did he speak negatively towards her? You might have said something.
Paris's Attorney: She reported that he said she was a crazy bitch.

The other two hundred pages included Paris's assertion that Zeta was trying to work voodoo on her, as well as her claim that the Page Six publicity machine had nothing to do with her notoriety and instead that she "made it on her own." She also answers a question about her publicist, the one who allegedly planted the false story in the Post, by saying "I'm so hungry."

I may not respect Paris Hilton, or like her very much, or want to see her one crazy eye and backwards pose on television ever, ever again, but I can't deny that the life she leads is so outside the realm of my personal possibilities it's utterly fascinating to me. I was excited to go to traffic court with Brad to argue a ticket for an expired registration sticker. Paris, on the other hand, has such an exciting life that being deposed by two high-powered Hollywood attorneys about slander and gossip and other deliciously salacious rumors that, by three-quarters of the way through her testimony, she can hardly stay awake:

Paris: (yawns)
Attorney: We have to do this every day.
Paris: I'd kill myself.

That's hot.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

You are the light of my morning. This post is hilarious. thanks for all the great writing.

12:11 PM  

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