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August 27, 2004

Getcher points here!

First place gets 75 Culture Mavens points. Second place gets 50 points. Third place gets 25 points. Enter as often as you like, but you can only win once.

The game surrounds this new book by Paris Hilton (who knew she could write?), which is due out September 7:

capt.ny13008262036.people_hilton_ny130

Your job is simple.

Pretend you've read this book without having some kind of hemmorhage. Now invent a quote (of any length) from Hilton's masterpiece and list it here.

For instance:

Nikki and I had been up until 4 a.m. the night before. Nikki, as usual, was passed out from Tequila shots, but I knew I couldn't sleep until I found Tinkerbell and until I knew who this man in my bed was. Just in case, I left him $14,000 cash. At least, I think I did - the red pills always make it hard for me to count. Later that week, we had my 8th birthday party.

See? Simple!

You have until Sunday night, Midnight, EST.

Begin.

Posted by Dan at August 27, 2004 08:18 AM

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Comments

Um....how clean does this need to stay?

Posted by: Stacie at August 27, 2004 07:16 PM

From page 53:

The sex-change operation was a complete success, and I re-joined the mile-high club on the flight back from Thailand.

Posted by: folkbum at August 27, 2004 07:19 PM

Stacie,

PG-13, please. Anything on Primetime networks.

If you have anything rated R or above, please send it to me in a private email.

Wink wink nudge nudge

Posted by: Big Dan at August 27, 2004 08:36 PM

Folkie,

You never let me down. The page number is gold.

Posted by: Big Dan at August 27, 2004 08:36 PM

Raúl wanted a striptease from me, but I refused to do it without the proper lighting. So we drove all over town looking for a well-lit bathroom. It’s amazing how few public restrooms have poles in them these days, but we finally found one that would work at a Denny’s about five miles across town. I slipped the manager a hundred dollar bill, Raúl barred the door and before I knew it I was lost in the flow of my body and the gentle serenading of Celine Dion being piped in through the bathroom speakers. The desperate pounding of customers who had just finished their Grand Slams threatened to break the mood, but the nearby mirror kept me focused.

Posted by: Joel Caris at August 28, 2004 12:07 AM

Chapter 17: Prague, 1998

The unfortunate incident with the Prime Minister of Canada behind us, it appeared to have fallen to Tinkerbell and I to retrieve the microfilm. Valuable time was lost in the attempt to locate the appropriate Prada handbag: it had to accommodate Tinkerbell in the primary compartment, my trusty Walther in the outer, and must be absolutely stunning when matched with the trenchcoat and Manolo pumps. We settled on puce, grabbed an extra magazine of dum-dums, and set off into the sultry Czechoslovakian night.

Posted by: Mr. E. at August 28, 2004 02:42 AM

On page 69:

I was sitting around one of our mansions one day when the maid decided to take a vacation. My sis spilled punch on the floor, just before a party. And it didn't match anything. Oh my God! I knew I had to do something, and in a hurry. So I grabbed onto the thing and began pressing against the floor. It wasn't enough. Harder...harder...HARDER! I finally scrubbed hard enough with the mop to remove the stain.

Posted by: Alex D. at August 28, 2004 05:44 AM

Wow.. this is better than I thought it would be... I just laughed until I nearly choked.

You know you've done a good job when the site host is in physical danger.

Posted by: Big Dan at August 28, 2004 07:56 AM

Page 28:

As I entered the Presidential Suite at our flagship hotel for the first time, I realized that Jacques wasn't just a great stylist -- he also knew interior decorating. The carpet did, indeed, need to match the drapes.

Posted by: Stacie at August 28, 2004 12:05 PM

(sorry)

Posted by: Stacie at August 28, 2004 12:06 PM

Stacie, I'm shocked!

As far as you know.

Posted by: Big Dan at August 28, 2004 12:45 PM

What? I'm a literalist.

As far as you know.

Posted by: Stacie at August 28, 2004 02:37 PM

Page 70 (the morning after):

Fighting the hangover and finally waking up in time for lunch, I realized something was different about my bed. Or was it me? I went to bed with a robe, and now there's no robe. The bed has two indentations on it. But I don't remember letting anyone else in. Then I started looking around. A note appeared on the dresser. It read,

"Thanks! I had a GREAT time last night. I taped the whole thing and gave it to a reporter and made LOTS of money! Hope you don't mind."

Another guy, another tape. Not again...

Posted by: Alex D. at August 29, 2004 10:57 PM

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