Well our national crisis has been averted. With Paris' freedom from jail due to an "unspecified medical condition," we once again have the media distraction we need to keep us rolling.
Luckily, Paris was able to smuggle a note out to me written on toilet paper. I'm sharing it with you until we can finally get some news through official channels from the Hilton compound.
Hey, dude. Like, I'm free and all so you need to come buy and see me. There's lots of popsarazzis in front of the house so yu'll need to sneek in somehows.
You know how I toled you I was all worried about being in the jail and stuff. We'll I worryed so much that I gave my self a rash and they thot that it was scabies or something. So now I have to stay at home and wear this dumb bracelete but that doesn't meen I can't party!
Jail wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. The wurst part is that everyone was wearing the same outfit as me. You know I'm not a summer so I wish I could have got a blue jumpsuit instead.
Before yu ask, yes, I did have to get the full cavity search before I got in the slammer. And you know I usually only do that after a fancey dinner and when there's a video camera around. Plus it was over too soone.
I had my own room, but it was like so small. 8' by 10' with just a toilet and a sink. At a Hilton, we call that a joonier sweet. HA! I herd Dave tell that on my TEEVO when I got back here. And I only got to go outside like 1 hour a day. Luckily, I was skinnee enough to fit between the bars of my cell and go for a walk whenever I wanted.
The other pirsoners were so meen. They kept calling me Marty even thogh I kept telling them it was Paris. I did meet a nice lady named Grace who said she wanted to clean my carpet for me but I toled her I had hardwood floors at my house.
I'm outta room on this skware so I gotta go. I'm pretty bummed I never even got to try the wine I was making in my pirson toylet. Cum see me soon.