Whenever a 30 year-old woman dies tragically, alone, her dead body lying undiscovered for days, capping a horrifically fucked up life, one is always tempted to ask oneself: Shouldn't we treat this event "as a glamorous celebrity happening to which we should aspire?" Eschew the temptation, friend! Andrea Peyser, an expert on sex fiends of all stripes, shall put this in perspective for you:
It was what she wanted.
We shall take your advice, Andrea, and abruptly end our shedding of tears for this departed heiress, stifling our natural tendencies to aspire towards her exact same end. But what of the small army of self-appointed experts who approached the media following Casey Johnson's death in order to warn of the hidden perils of fame?
They make me sick.