Frances Bean Cobain

Donato Sardella / Getty Images

Looks like Frances Bean Cobain may have come across our li'l post sassing her self-called "suicidal 16" B-day party. We wondered if the whole morbid bash was tasteless, and espesh got the impresh that F.B. was just a li'l spoiled rich girl crying goth. Musta gotten to her, since she posted on her MySpace blog mere days later—copied and pasted on a neaby blog by a pal:

"The teenage years I'm forced to take part of are supposed to be about 'finding myself' and discovering what is right and what is wrong. How can I possibly go about doing such a thing if every move I make is under the scrutiny of the public eye. People making judgements[sic] about my literacy and sanity! I'm going to be under people's watch no matter what I do because I am the child of a legend..."

Hey, at least she's self-aware of her sitch! At least now Francie B. musta learned a thing or two about privacy, since she locked her once open-to-the-public profile.

Gal continues, several rants later: "I'm not a spoiled rich kid, I'm not a drug infused ingrate who wants to live off their parents money because they don't have the capability to do anything other wise."

Gotta give the hon credit—her blogs are eons more literate than her mom's, that's fer sure. They're just not nearly as entertaining. She'll learn.

But this much she's discovering expeditiously with her Bev Hills upbringing: to want it both ways. Do celebs think blogs are really being read just by their personal, online pals? And if anyone else (a random Internet window shopper or gossmonger, perchance) gets a hold of it, then it turns into an invasion of privacy? We know that all types of people read our merde once we post it online—even the people we're bitching about. Comes with the territory of having a forum to say what ya please.

We didn't unlock your damn diary hidden underneath your bed, Frances love, so if ya don't like your words reprinted and discussed, then don't type it out online in the first place. Tell Court we said hey, miss her so!

—Additional sass by Becky Bain

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