Monica Lewinsky: the girl who blew her chance


It’s funny how Monica Lewinsky has faded from the limelight. A lot of people didn’t like her, but I always felt a surge of sympathy when I contemplated the misadventures of that sweet-faced young lady. Such is the nature of the simian soul. Were we ever to meet, I dare say that she would be Mary Magdalene to my Jesus Christ. Yes, it would give me great satisfaction to gaze compassionately into her repentant eyes and forgive her sins. I wouldn’t ask her to kneel, of course – that might bring back unfortunate memories.

In this day and age, mind you, her sins were pretty venial. All she really did was fancy the wrong bloke at the wrong time. Those who condemn her for kissing-and-telling forget that she was treacherously exposed by the vile Linda Tripp, a fatter and more obnoxious sneak than Billy Bunter. Haunted by the knowledge of that betrayal, it’s not surprising that Monica confessed all under interrogation. The threats of the Special Persecutor and his federally-sanctioned anal probe were just too much for her. Even Hillary must have known, in her heart of hearts, that Monica was far from being a full-blown sinner – that honour, indeed, belonged entirely to Mr Clinton.


We gorillas nodded sagely when the saga of Bill and Monica broke. This sort of thing happens all the time in the jungle. The dominant silverback, busy with bush politics and day-to-day decision-making, often employs a few young females to bring him snacks and show visitors to the waiting area. These females are naturally in awe of the Big Hairy Chief and normally try to avoid distracting him. But now and again, an audacious young temptress catches the boss’s eye by wiggling her rump suggestively at an opportune moment. If she happens to be in season, one thing rapidly leads to another, and before you know it the cheeky little madam is carrying the alpha’s child.


This brings us to an aspect of the Lewinsky scandal which gorillas find puzzling. It seems that Monica was so eager to offer gratification that she neglected to think of her own strategic interests. Having the baby of the commander-in-chief would have surely been a sound long-term investment, resulting in generous maintenance payments and a continuing media profile. After obliging Mr Clinton a few times, a shrewder girl than Monica would have left the knee pads at home and presented herself passively on the desk in the Oval Office. If Slick Willy had asked for normal service, she might have responded as follows:


“Oh no, Mr President, it’s time for you to perform! I’m through with washing your hickory juice out of my hair! From now on the jam gets squirted inside the doughnut!”


Had Monica been impregnated, I feel she would have behaved with greater composure after the affair had ended. The prospect of motherhood often brings out the practical side of a woman. Taking solace from the generous financial settlement, there would have been no need to confide in the insidious Ms Tripp. I suspect that Monica’s failure to insist on proper consummation stemmed from her lack of self-esteem as much as anything. She really seemed to believe that a semen stain on a dress was all she deserved for the privilege of pouting on the presidential appendage. Sadly, it’s often girls from the best families who fall for rascals of the “treat ‘em mean to keep ‘em keen” persuasion. I fear for these young ladies – what they really need is an avuncular pastor who might inspire them to loftier ambitions and worthier deeds.
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Paris Hilton: a misunderstood young lady


I confess I had no idea who Paris Hilton was when a middle-aged American woman mentioned her the other day. News travels slowly in the Congo, and our weekly consignment of Hello! magazine goes directly to the foreign embassies in Brazzaville. She complained that Miss Hilton had become an inspiring figure for her teenage daughter, who apparently regards the convivial lifestyle of the blonde heiress as worthy of emulation. This was regrettable, the woman said, because Miss Hilton was a superficial trollop of negligible mental capacity.

Those were harsh words indeed. When someone speaks ill of an unfamiliar female, my response is always to roll my eyes pensively without comment. One should never speak loosely of a lady until one has the facts at one’s fingertips. I’m not the kind of ape who’ll blandly accept a charge as proven without investigating the matter to his own satisfaction. Is Miss Hilton really a good-time girl who’ll drop her knickers for any beefcake stud who leers lecherously at her legs? That’s the oft-repeated accusation, but where is the hard evidence? Throwing mud at a woman’s underwear is much easier than making it stick to her thighs.


So I did some research, examining the documentary evidence in Playboy, TMZ.com and other reliable sources. It seems that a lot of people don’t like the young chit. Typical comments from the readers of these esteemed publications range from the allegorical (“Paris is like a fart in a mitten. You know it's there, you can't stand it, but you can't get rid of it.”) to the supplicatory (Would you please drop dead or commit suicide, you damn slut!). Being unpopular, however, is no reliable indicator of a person’s character. Was not Joan of Arc unpopular with the English villains who tied her to a stake and immolated her? I’m not going to condemn a woman just because a few supercilious nobodies post intemperate remarks on a message board. I will judge this young lady by her deeds.


The facts are as follows: Inherited wealth notwithstanding, Miss Hilton has amassed a sizable personal fortune by excelling in activities such as modelling, the promotion of cosmetics and a co-authored memoir. This may account for her unpopularity, given that lower-ranking humans are easily excited to envy. As to her personal life, it must be admitted that Miss Hilton has been courted by a succession of frisky young bucks lacking in the qualities associated with gentlemen. But it would be wrong to leap to the conclusion that she has been profligate with her sexual favours. She describes her attitude to her suitors as follows: “I like the way guys go crazy when they can't have sex with you. If he can't have you, he stays interested. The moment he has you, he's gone.” Pursuant to this philosophy, she claims to have taken a vow of sexual abstinence earlier this year.


Thus, far from being the wanton harlot of common misperception, Paris is in fact guilty of the lesser sin of being a “prick-teaser”. I won’t berate her for this as long as she does eventually submit to an alpha male, bearing him a healthy brood into the bargain. If I were Miss Hilton’s chaperone, I would take her to a mansion overlooking the Zambezi and give her some novels by the late Barbara Cartland to read. It’s important for a successful woman not to lose sight of the fact that surrendering to a strapping polo player can bring forth delights that will make money and fame appear tame by comparison.

Paris Hilton-Because America loves it's loose diamonds - brought to you by Carls Jr.
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