Perez Hilton’s book just came out, and he’s talking about himself it to the Advocate. Turns out, “writing” a “book” is a breeze. Aspiring authors, take note:
I was at a book event, talking about my celebrity-related second book, and Mario Lopez was there promoting his children’s book. Teasing him, I flippantly said, “Well, I should write a children’s book too — and it should be about a boy with pink hair!” After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The story formed so quickly in my brain…[…] My intention was to create something very positive for the universe, as cheesy as that may sound. I had a really beautiful story that I wanted to share, and I had the ability to do it, so why not? The great thing about my career trajectory is that I’ve been able to do a bunch of different things, and this is something I haven’t done before. It may not make sense, but if people read the book or give it to a kid, hopefully they’ll love it. I love it. Out of everything I’ve ever done, it’s one of the things I’m proudest of.
I,my, I, I, I, my, My, I, I, I, my, I’ve, I, I, I’ve, I’m…
How sad or offensive or demoralizing it is that someone whose sole purpose in life is self-promotion (and not, you know, “writing”) can so easily be a published author isn’t really the point anymore, is it? Snooki is a published author. The point is that the story in the book (if that’s what we’re calling The Boy With Pink Hair–a “book”) isn’t a universal story for troubled children but rather a very specific story presented in an effort to assuage the guilt of a troubled former overweight blogger. Perez is sorry! He’s nice now, see, and he even wrote a book about how everyone else should be nice, too. But why should we have to be perpetually subjected to his endless “take a look at me now” tour? What, we’re supposed to feel better about him as a human being because he’s made amends with Jenifer Aniston?
What the hell even is this?
I never really fit in with any groups, so I just did my own thing. After I became an adult, I still felt like an outsider. Then I became Perez, and I felt like even more of an outsider. I literally had my hair pink for a while. Figuratively, I’m still pink on the inside.
In the real world and in my real life, I’ve always been a really nice person. But I adopted this character and this persona that was not so nice all the time. So one of the many things that I’ve been doing over the past year — it’s been almost 12 months now — is taking this mask off and showing the world more of the real me.
Did anyone ask to see the “real” him? Of course not. But that’s not the point, either. There is no “real Perez/fake Perez.” Internet personas–and let’s be honest, Perez’s fat, asshole persona was a million times more tolerable than his skinny, It Gets Better persona (and what does it mean, by the way, that when he was fat he was mean, but now that he’s skinny, he’s nice? are fat people inherently cruel?)–are just as real as real world personas. Don’t hide behind the internet. Don’t hide behind your blog. Don’t blame the fact that you are/were an asshole on your blog persona! Because if you are an asshole online, you are also a “real life asshole,” too. Were you typing on your computer from some other dimension? No.
I’ve lost 80 pounds, so I’m learning to be more comfortable in my new body, because I look and feel like a new person. Over the last 12 months, I’ve been trying to have more of a social life on weekends, trying to find balance. I’m on OKCupid and I’m dating more. I’m learning to be more assertive, because some people might be intimidated to come up to me, or they may have preconceived notions about me. I’m taking more risks, giving more people chances, because I know someone needs to take a chance on me too. […] But I’m still very single, so I’m trying to get the message out there to the gays that I’m really not a douchebag.
Oh! We get it. You were grotesque. You were horrible. We forgive you. Why keep reminding people of how disgusting you were? How much half-assed self-deprecation (I’m not a douche bag…anymore!) and self-absorbed, gimmicky catharsis can we take? How much feigned atonement masquerading as personal growth and how many more horrifying In Touch Weekly bikini body pics must we endure before we long for the days of the awful, nasty, morbidly obese Perez? I miss that fat piece of shit! At least he was real. Hideous and dull, but real.