Just Paris and 20 of the most attention-starved famewhores in America.

Like some sort of insatiable hellbeast of the pop-cultpocalypse, nothing any of us do or say can keep Paris Hilton from invading our magazines, television, nightclubs or our very dreams. It may take Seven Knives of Megiddo to end her reign of terror, but in the meantime, our time of twilight and darkness continues.

Hilton and her unfortunate love-prisoner Benji Madden will be on hand at Tao inside The Venetian tonight for the taping of an episode of Paris Hilton’s My New BFF, the reality show even former subjects of My Super Sweet 16 find a little degrading. In the series, Hilton winnows 20 hangers-on down to one lucky enough to learn all her secrets of dealing with paparazzi, alienating high-profile friends and trapping a pop-punker with a foundering music career.

This tired circus just keeps chugging along, even though the strongmen all stopped lifting weights long ago, and the lions have the mange.

By Jason Scavone

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