Apparently, Anna Nicole Smith finally went too far down the TrimSpa/Cocaine/booze road and died today at the age of 39 in Florida. I always had mixed feelings about her. On one hand, we have a talentless golddigger who was famous for being famous. On the other hand, you have a small town girl with no education, who was ambitious enough to use the only thing she had to get her and her son to a better life. In her place, I might have done the same thing if I had half her looks.
The last few months of her life actually was like a very creepy Greek Tragedy being played out in front of the press. It sort of makes sense she died they way she did. Every good Shakespearean tragic play ends with everyone but the dog dying. She was annoying yet fascinating, a dumb blond who was surprisingly shrewd, and a party girl that, from all accounts, was a decent mother. That's the truest part of the tragedy right there: she leaves behind a 5 month old baby whose custody will be fought over for years by two of Anna's opposing lovers.
Some in the media have been comparing her to Marilyn Monroe. I actually saw her more as an anti-Paris Hilton. Both famous for nothing, and beautiful enough to get away with it...for awhile.
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