Revelations from Paris Hilton's phonebook

In the latest bit of faux-news to break from the internet, it seems Paris Hilton’s cell phone contents were hacked and posted online.

My first thought is: shit, cell phones can be hacked? I guess given how they now do everything from take pictures to give directions to doubling as a sexual pleasure device for your date (hint: set the phone of vibrate, tell her to put it ‘someplace special’ during dinner and then call her) it isn’t that far-fetched to think that since they’re on the same level as a mid-80s IBM that a phone could be hacked…but it’s still weird to hear.

(Additional tangential note: if your date’s “some place special” is a drawer or something, the phone-as-sexual-pleasure-device gambit will work about as well as ___insert witty line here__.)

But techno-stuff aside, the list makes for interesting reading material. Sure, at first glance there are easy laughs in the list’s contents (such as “Dave, Super”), but there are a few “what the hell?” moments too.

For the life of me, I cannot figure out why Paris has Stephen King’s email. Trying to figure out what those two would talk about will distract me for a good 10-15 minutes.

Also, I almost feel sorry for Ashlee Simpson. Sure she’s talentless, but now every geek in the world has access to her number and will either call and tell her how much she sucks, or they’ll call to tell her how much they’d like her to suck something of theirs.

It’s a tough job being famous (sic), but if Paris wants to be my sugar mama, I’d take her money.