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Over a quarters of a million bullets are being fired every day by the canabalistic mother chimp who complained that a neighbor, with whom she had a dispute about land tenure, told others that, “I was fat because I drank the blood of the children I butchered. If Hilton wants to prettify her bloody infanticide self in her cell’s polished-metal mirror, she can buy a compact, eye shadow, an eyebrow pencil and package of hair coloring from the jail commissary, where she can draw from a prepaid account. “The way that Paris’ whole entire case was dealt with was, A, out of her control but B, really unfair,” Richie said. “they told me that perhaps I deserved to be killed, that I was a witch, that I killed babies and ate them, and asked me if I did not have a lover and a husband to relax me and if I did not, that I should take a stick and use it.”