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I have something I must confess, something I've been hiding for years, something I've been hiding from myself and from others. Something terrible, something horrible. You see, my friends .... I ... I am Paris Hilton.

Don't get me wrong, you wont see videos of me being sexually abused in hotel rooms by random soulless richkids. I have never and will never release an album of pitch corrected electric disco warblings. I have never appeared on Mtv auditioning hyperactive simpletons for the role of best friend forever ('forever' being redefined as 'until the start of season 2'). I am not physically the skinny, sick bird dipped in cold vomit looking socialite whore we all know and loathe as Paris Hilton but I am in every sense, the shallow, soulless, stupid spoiled whore you think of when you hear her name.

I see the occasional headline such as 'Paris buys new billion dollar car for pet Chihuahua' while signing in to a friendless lonely night on Msn messenger. These headlines may fill me with the desire to see that spoiled bitch stripped of her cash and deported to some African shanty town to squander the rest of her worthless days picking flies out of her wonky eye and swallowing them for sustenance. In all that time I spend sitting at a computer monitor boiling with rage for the rich bitches of the world it never seems to truly occur to me just what a rich spoiled bitch I am.

I go to get a cup of coffee and am pissed off that my malfunctioning kettle switched itself off before boiling the fresh clean water I was able to fill it with at the twist of a lever. I switch on my flatscreen digital television and am annoyed and upset that I just missed my favourite show. I feel wronged by the Universe when I check my freezer and find the only things left to eat are those coconut lemon tofu steaks that I really hate.

Anyone who's known me longer than two minutes will have heard me rant at least three times about the horrors of a world that allows us to live lives of luxury while children far away starve to death. I realise that these rants do little other than making me sound like a preachy Bono esque holier than thou prick quoting shitty Phil Collins songs but to think I'm preaching is to miss the point entirely.

You see, I'm not outraged and saddened by the fact that there are children starving to death right now ... like, right now. I just find it fascinating. I find it fascinating how little I care. I know it's happening and I recognise what a truly terrible thing it is but it's all mental recognition, I never feel the sadness in my heart that I know I logically should. Don't get me wrong, I feel awful whenever I see the image of a starving child on my television screen but that bad feeling is easily remedied by the click of a Tv remote. It's like a horrible Russian snuff movie or a Uwe Boll film, you know it happened whether you watch it or not but somehow it's only the watching that will make you feel it as a horrible reality.

Of course you're the same. I don't care if you do the occasional bit of giving or working for some worthy charity. You know deep down that you're not working nearly as hard to help these people as you would be if you were in their place and working to help yourself. If the spirit were willing enough the flesh wouldn't hold it back.

We're all somebody's Paris Hilton. We're all spoiled bitches from somebody else's perspective. This doesn't seem like it'll ever change. We'll continue to look on in disgust as these billionaire socialites remain ignorant of the suffering around them and of just how good they have it while all the while ignoring the fact that we're exactly the same. As I said before I'm not preaching, I don't have any solution to this problem. The only thing I've gained from this whole thing is the knowledge that I'm a truly horrible person. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go car shopping for my Chihuahua.