Being well-known and renowned may be a lot of fun—imagine having infinite income, attending elaborate red carpet events, and socializing with society’s elite but being in the limelight also means enduring criticism and scrutiny.Paris Hilton has direct knowledge of this due to her time in the spotlight.
However, the situation recently deteriorated when aggressive internet trolls questioned the looks of her small kid.
The reality TV star turned entrepreneur was compelled to defend her 9-month-old son Phoenix Barron after disparaging remarks about him appeared on social media.Paris, known for her unshakeable confidence, did not hesitate to protect her eldest kid and defend herself.
“There are some sick people in this world,” Paris stated, expressing her annoyance at the unjustified criticism. My angel is thriving. He has seen a doctor; he is simply extremely bright.She said, “[My parents] are just so obsessed with him.” I consider myself extremely blessed to have a strong support network in my close-knit family, and my sister Nicky Hilton and I are always available for advice over the phone
This most recent episode serves as a reminder that celebrities are still vulnerable to internet harassment and criticism. Children should never be subjected to hatred and abuse, but Paris’s bravery in confronting the cruel trolls proves her unwavering love for her kid.
How do you feel about the situation? Tell us in the comments section below!
My neighbor pelted my car with eggs because he claimed it obstructed the view of his Halloween decorations
When sleep-deprived mom Genevieve discovers her car covered in eggs, she thinks it’s a prank — until her smug neighbor Brad admits he did it because her car was ruining the view of his elaborate Halloween display. Furious but too exhausted to argue, Genevieve vows to teach him a lesson.
I was bone-tired, the kind of tired where you can barely remember if you’ve brushed your teeth or fed the dog.
My days had become a blur since the twins were born.
Don’t get me wrong, Lily and Lucas were my adorable darlings, but wrangling two newborns mostly by myself was a Herculean task. I hadn’t slept a full night in months. Halloween was just around the corner and the neighborhood buzzed with excitement, but not me.
I could hardly muster the energy to decorate, let alone keep up with the suburban festivities.
Then there was Brad.
The man took Halloween so seriously that you’d think his life depended on it. Every year, he turned his house into a haunted carnival complete with gravestones, dioramas of skeletons, huge jack-o’-lanterns, the works.
And the smug look on his face every time someone complimented him? Please.
His spectacle enamored the entire block. But me? I was too busy trying to keep my eyes open to care about Brad’s ridiculous haunted house.
It was a typical October morning when everything started to unravel.
I shuffled outside with Lily on one hip and Lucas cradled in my arm. I blinked at the sight before me. Somebody had egged my car! Broken bits of shell were stuck in the semi-congealed goo, which was dripping down the windshield like some twisted breakfast special.
“Are you kidding me?” I muttered, staring at the mess.
I had parked in front of Brad’s house the night before. It’s not like I had much choice. The twins’ stroller was impossible to push all the way from down the street, so I’d parked close to our door.
At first, I thought it had to be a prank. But when I noticed the egg splatters reached all the way to Brad’s front porch, my suspicion turned into certainty.
This had Brad written all over it.
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