Ahum.. artist.. uche.. uh: Paris Hilton
title: Good Time
keywords: complete shit
label: Cash Money Records
reviewer: Peres Holtin
It’s difficult to find music that actually sucks in the underground, but as this blog needs its regular joke of the year my ears dared to take a peek above ground. Only to be shocked by the horrific shit that is out there!
The most shocking piece among all the glorious puke invested commercial turds, was something that sucked so hard that you could hoover the carpet with it.
I wanted to run away, cry, die and jump in a volcano to forget, but the shock took over my senses, something needed to be done to get the crap out of my head. Not that the encounter was catchy, it was just annoyingly bad, but also somehow in a strange way interesting. How the hell can something like this be produced, and turn up above ground?
This must be a real depressing moment for many real musical talents out there who dream of making it into a living, who have golden voices, can dance and write their own music. They are out there, playing on street corners, working in mc Donald’s and
other establishments. They are the starving talents that deserves to be heard, may actually have something of a message for the world to share but will probably fade away in obscure corners, while unintelligent nonsense is lowering the tastes of the new generation.
Talent means nothing, money (and bad taste) seems to mean everything above ground.
Let me write the frustration off with an attempt of analyzing the weird happening from the start. You just brace yourself as to keep in style, even this review is gonna suck big time.
The global domination of the luxury brand of Hilton hotels, who (like it or not) seem to have earned its success and high standard reputation by shaping its places with a certain class and style. You just feel it when stumbling upon them when you are in drastic need to empty your bowels or bladder.
The restrooms are a showoff with large mirrors, gracious fake golden taps and soft as feathers, toilet tissue. If you have the chance, please do walk in and feel how royal the toilet seat comforts your asshole, this is luxury!
Unfortunately the family name that is attached to these grand looking hotels is slowly being smeared with poop. While the hotels are standing strong, complimenting their concept and architectural choice; someone does it’s best to damage the reputation wherever it may seem unfit.
You can’t really blame this on the walking shelf that is this representative person, as it is probably a well mended product of love that simply got infected by a disease that only happens in families of the filthy rich.
Probably grown up with nanny’s, cleaning her butt with dollar bills; the little princess probably know from an early age that a minimum wage job at a fast-food chain wasn’t something she would experience in her life. But Karma served the doll some jail-time experience instead. (but that’s another story)
It looks as if Yeah I Know It Sucks now not only reviews music but also plastic looking people, but the drastic introduction seems necessary in this case, as the infected spoiled brat disease could be fully responsible for the disastrous crap that the hotel heiress has given birth too.
What is it, you may ask yourself? Another iPhone application that people can buy and use to make fake photo’s posing with this creature of narcism? Or a new fragrance that smells of hollowness mixed with the beautiful stench of carefully subtracted Parisian cow farts? Did someone turned her pet dog into a series of handbags?
The walking duck face posing wardrobe must be having a hard time. There is nothing for her to do than showing up as a celebrity and doom up at high society parties.
Launching things people don’t need for a fan-base that probably doesn’t really exist.
Yeah I Know It Sucks.
But you have to admit It is also somehow fascinating.
How can someone be famous for absolutely nothing more than having a specific sure name and a spotlight launching ‘leaked’ sex tape?
The girl is great at exploiting the thin air in every possible way of pure nothingness. It’s the walking wet dream of Andy Warhol! A human skinny Brillo box! It is almost living art in this sense of view.
‘What does she actually do?’ is the secret question that people whisper behind her back. Slowly realizing that just ‘being’ isn’t exactly considered something to be proud of.
The ultimate camouflage has been found by launching her a deejay career inspired on the funny old grandma who fake spins records for rather large crowds.
Where the concept of the old lady as a deejay traveling the world is a acceptable fun practical joke, our little HiSo fake deejay girl is a rather disgusting celebration that basically shits on deejay stardom. It’s fun to shit on, but not as comfortable as dropping your brown bombs in an exclusive Hilton toilet.
The barbie look a like is simply doing behind the deejay desk what she does best. Posing, little partying, smiling and some more posing, emptying cocktails while the prerecorded deejay set does its own job.
It’s a great concept, but also a bit dumb.
It creates at the same time a reason for her to be somewhere, and get pocket money for candy on top of it. Since the public isn’t stupid and even some festive pissed of deejays are spreading the word of this scandalous pre-recorded deejay act, the search for another ‘job’ has began.
This time we arrive at the point where ultimate shit is flowing!
What else can a bored troubled spoiled girl do to fulfill the need to be remembered for something?
Yes! The launch of a flop career!
7 years ago she had tried it without touching or nipple dipping the charts, but now the rich ‘poor’ little thing goes for it again!
The hotel heiress teamed up with a creature called Lil Wayne who raps as if loaded on a mix of cocaine and champagne about meeting and talking to a rather large big ass.
Would love to see his face when sobering up and finds himself in the mess that is this song and the video that comes with it.
You may feel the urge to protect the high socialite, as the girl just wants to make a video, play herself and her partying days and got the money to invest and just have some fun. She is happy with the result, chatting about it like a headless chicken in all the media output that wants to hear it.
For herself it was a lot of fun to pose in a bathing suit embedded with Swarovski crystals, playing around with glow-sticks but my god for everyone else this music and the accompanying video is pure awfulness.
I believe she wrote the lyrics on her own as it makes sure nobody except herself can identify with it. Her voice is just terrible, and even the overused auto-tune can’t help to make it sound less goofy.The local drunk in the karaoke bar has better vocal skills than this walking self adoring dummy. It’s fun, but very, very personal fun. .
The music itself (produced by Afrojack, who is one of these people slacking off the girls’s prerecorded deejay career behind her back) isn’t any better.
It sounds like a quickly done and paid for; soul and lifeless piece of crap with predictable and outdated sounding 4×4 beats and basic turds on top. There is no catchyness but it’s still considered a masterpiece. It’s a masterpiece in the sake of how horribly bad it sounds all together. It’s amazing that it has been made and released to the public, but it is a great example of completely sauciness!
If Vincent van Gogh would have been around today and hear this shit, he would probably cut of his other ear as well! Does the disease infected ‘artiste’ not have ears herself? Or is it really a case of ‘not giving a shit’, while actually giving a shit?
Personally I don’t think Paris Hilton is aiming to score a hit, she just wants to have fun while shoving her annoying crap, the hollowness that surrounds it ,celebrating a shallow life style and the stupidity that comes with it in our faces and ears.
She don’t care about selling albums, she wants to be featured in a lengthy episode of a crap review on Yeah I Know It Sucks. And so here it is, catering the world with more attention seeking shit to make the magical dreams of this piece of nonsense come true. Yeah I know It Sucks, but does she care? Or can we suck her dick while she shoves it in our ears?
This review may come across rather harsh and even bitter. I know the ‘flopstar’ can’t be blamed for this tragic sounding single, but its frightening that nobody close to ‘the star’ advices her the truth that her voice just doesn’t have the magic to be a singer, that the music behind it is complete piss, the lyrics belly stabbingly crap and that the video is plain stupid. It should be just done in private, as a fun toy for the girl to play and watch at home, not officially released to the public but rather more leaked secretly. like a sextape.
Whatever it is, just like the ‘song’ in question, this review turned out exclusively horrid! I feel like crashing into a local high society party, get loaded on free champagne and nick someones expensive purse along the way! Let’s have a good time and stay away from this turd!