Paris Hilton’s cell phone was hacked over the weekend.  Holy Goddess.  Whoever would have imagined that her PIN was ‘airhead ’ and that someone would have had the gaul to crack into her phonebook stack?! .  We are not safe in our intimacies!  We are not safe as a digitalnation, I tell you!   Now I’ll have to change my (compromised) number.   Again.   Already, as a result of the hack, I’m getting hundreds of  unwelcomed  lascivious non-anonymous proposals from hot, needy, almost unsatisfiable mavens professing ear-bruning, unpublishable ‘things, thangs, thongs’.  Don’t worry—if you had my old number, I’ll get in touch somehow.   Even if it means hanging out on your doorstep like a dropped-off old-fashioned bottle of milk.  Until you take me in.