Country Club Crap

As a new reader of the Uber Rich over at Wide Lawns-the post about the divorcing swingers was really good-led me to click on dressing like a wlw-wide law woman-and lo and behold, I was directed to prepville-now, I do like the prep look and on occassion dress it, but having gone to such a preppy college, I know for a fact those people not only make it THE lifestyle fore themselves, it is also a mind-set. I particularly love the leathery old preps who let their flopping wrinkly [yet very tanned] arms hang out of tank top dresses with sailboats and what not on them. Very pathetic.

I actually did look through a crap load of photos, confirming regardless of how cute you think your outfit is, whatever is wrong with you will not be corrected-yes I am talking about the snotty rich, yet ugly no matter how you cut it. All the pink and green in the world is not going to cast the glow of glamour or style on you, honey. Think about it. If you can..

Here is my commentary on some of the choicest selections:


I am fugly, pregnant and an apparent boozer-
see the liquor behind the beverage cooler?

What do you know? A cornball muffy model....or at least she has a shot at Taco Bell....



This poor little girl has log legs....


I kinda feel sorry for this one........and her mother actually put her in a fish dress....like it was not an underscore for the poor kid.............



I did not know they made Mickey Mouse Ear Bows....



Envelope Flap baby.....the vampirish hairline is what stood out to me....No, come to think of it, the poor kid looks like she has toast points on her head.



And is it me? Check out this kid's head in relation to her feet; she kinda looks like she could be a "Fairly Odd Parents" cartoon sample...

Good Reads

I was carousing on blogger again-looking for good blogs to visit, and I stumbled across two tonight-witty and interesting writing.

El Guapo recants funny stories about being Guatemalan in our nation's capital- quite witty.

Wide Lawns give us a sharp wit about the uber rich and an outsider's disgust.

I giggled, laughed and chuckled at how these two view their worlds.

Very good reads.

RATS Jones

Ever since I heard of her name, Rats Jones, it stuck. I actually laughed and giggled a lot about it. Clever, I thought. Intriguingly funny, I also thought. Such a simple thing- her name spelled backwards, was what made it cheesy hilarious.

This is another story of how men don't care what their women look like as long as they look good to them. I am talking about he saw her in a bathing suit and still kept going. Presumably he saw her naked before the bathing suit and still hung around.

In a wierd way its weird and encouraging. Well, you need to take that with a grain of salt and the knowledge that he has been dubbed "almost gay".

So what does that make her?

Hmmmm...... let me think about that.

Tango Schmango

OK, I can't help it, I like to watch mindless VH1 Reality, in particular my girl Miss New York, Tiffany Pollard, who got dumped by the Tan Man in a big, nasty way.

She picked Tango in the end. She trashed his mother previously in the show and he found out about it after the show aired. At the reunion, he faked her out until he could call her out.

Which brings me to my point: getting dumped sucks. But I also find being the dumper isn't easier unless you get to your boiling point about it and then watch out-the ugly truth rears its ugly head.

Oh, c'est la vie. I am sure you girls out there have more interesting dumping stories than the men out there, now don't you?

Rodent Sex

I got this from a friend via email-you know-the joke rotation.

All I can say is SICK.

Walmart

I read a post the other day on LegalEagle's blog-which is by the way very funny-I think it was a "dear so and so" letter-a good style of writing.

Well the post was about Walmart and a woman breast feeding her kid who was still in the cart seat-whips it out and then the kid latches on after it hung and swung for the kid to get-the whole thing is sick to begin with, which brings me to relate my own Walmart story of today.

Walmart. Sometimes I wonder if it is really worth it to even go there. At my local Walmart, they now have the Greeter back-do I have to be annoyed from the get go before I even get into the damned store? I am just trying to stay away from the riff raff that is also trying to get into the place.

It was crowded today-screaming kids- I mean screaming-this one little girl with parents who where not only floppy fat, but who let her scream all over the store-the husband was holding her but since he was smaller than his wife [that gargantuan] I figured he did not wear the pants in that family.

You could not get into any aisle without some idiot with a cart rushing in the other end. I kept "bumping" into a white trash mother with her daughter whose stomach was proudly falling over the waistband of her denim mini while wearing black stockings and the ugliest 1970's styled backless shoes with a thick heel. The gross part was when she walked, you saw that one of her heels was so filthy, it showed right through the black stocking. I guess that was her going out to Walmart outfit.

Also I have to deal with the snooties-you know those fugly prunes roaming around with their noses up in the air and their Mercedes shoved in between two Neons in the parking lot. When they show up, they expect you to immediately move-yeah right. I just plant myself idly looking at crap I would never buy so not to cow tow to them, even when they squat and reach over the front of my calves to pull something out. During these times, do you think the white trash come in the aisle? No. No where to be found when you need them.

So there you have it- Walmart; but today was a day that took the cake. I was at the check out with the crap it took me 1.5 hours to find and with an oriental checker who could barely, and I mean barely speak English, when she starts to freak out-holding her shirt over her nose.

I was like WTF-my batteries rang up wrong, I tell her, and she sticks her nose in her shirt and her eyes are wide as saucers?

She begins to point-and I see above me, coming from the back of the store, this smoke like mist coming fast towards the front. I don't smell fire, but the oriental checker is now screaming she is going to leave her register while furiously smashing her call button-the only time I understood her was when he yelled out she was not going to breath in that poison.

I was pissed. I was now faced with not even being able to buy the crap I wanted. I was gauging how fast the smoky mist was moving while like an idiot breathing deeply to see if I smelled anything. By this time, the oriental checker was out of there. I leaned up on the check out bag rotary; by this time the air above me was filling in with that white stuff that really did not smell.

Figuring I was not going to check out because someone came to the register to cancel my sale, I walked out of the store. A few minutes later, the firemen came.

Gossip at the front had it that a fire extinguisher was dropped and went off. HA! It must have been like 20 because that huge store was filled pretty quickly.

I am now just waiting for my body's reaction to whatever I breathed to kick in because I would then, thanks to Walmart, be calling LegalEagle and not ever be shopping there again.........

Bottoms Up

Hey girls, ever run out of acrobatic moves to impress your man, or just to keep it lively?

I thought I would post this photo I saw on the web somewhere. It looks impossibly uncomfortable.

Not only can you tell them to kiss your a$$, you can show them how to do it.

I can't imagine anyone is flexible enough to do this anyway.

Too Hard to Figure

It has been somewhat of a phenomenon. Or maybe I was just too self absorbed to have noticed. No, I think I was just busy doing my own thing.

A lot of women, girls, females or however we want to be addressed, stress over what we look like, what other women think we look like, or to most, more importantly, what "THEY" think we look like or don't look like. By "they" I mean those irritating yet captivating MEN.

First of all, ALL (well, MOST) men are just basically, plain and simple, pigs in a lot of ways. Even those goody goody types have the same thoughts as those evil slime balls a lot of us women have dealt with one way or another.

So we basically torture ourselves to ends, that in our later years, we will find unimaginable. We starve, sweat and drag out sorry asses to where THEY will notice us, or where we hope they will.

How discouraging is it when you are avoiding any guilty pleasure in the name of keeping it together, when you see it-there it is, plain as day?

Oh woe are we. Now don't tell me not one of you have seen it-you can't miss the contrast.

The most handsome and attractive man with the most unlikeliest of women. A good personality can only go so far. But its very prevalent. Its depressing and wonderful at the same time, yet I have a hard time accepting the whole thing.

I have heard stories of men who are personal trainers whose girlfriends are out of shape-they like a woman with some meat on her bones they say- you see the young stud with a woman who looks like she could be his mother or with one who is so unbecoming its almost revolting ( the variety is amazing- bucky beaver teeth, or, leatherette skin for example).

You see a slender or well built man, helping an obese girlfriend into the booth at the local buffet, tending to her as if he had grabbed the golden ring-the nice looking man at the beach who can't get his eyes off a woman sitting at an outdoor bar in a bikini with fat rolls openly showed off-I just don't get it, and such sightings are more commonplace than not.

I have got to stop going out in public. It's too depressing. Really, it is.

Wiped Seats

"If you sprinkle when you tinkle, please be neat and wipe the seat"

Can you imagine? I am sure many of you have seen this ditty in the home toilettes of friends or that you have the same sign hanging in your bathroom in vicinity of the toilet.

Now, does this posting make me feel assured your toilet seat is cleanly and safe? It does not.

What am I to think when I see this? I tell you what, it makes me squat above your toilet, hoping like hell the backs of my thighs will NOT TOUCH your assumingly wiped toilet seat that was probably sprinkled on more than you know or apparently care.

Since the placquard is usually done up with a white lace border, or with a sweet cartoon child emblazoned next to the instructions, many find it a wonderful little craft to adorn the throne area.

Apparently, its directed at men and women. Men who do not lift the seat to pee-yes, they are out there and women, who do God Knows What when they enter the facilities. And all these bathroom indiscretions, are merely wiped away, as instructed to do, without any care about what lingers on that seat after the wipe.

Are there homeowner's out there that are so lazy they have their guests responsible for what they feel is toilet cleanliness? Apparently the answer is a resounding YES.

I find this entire bathroom mindset particularly gross but also it has a much heeded warning: don't sit on the seat, it has only been merely wiped when peed on, nothing more, nothing less. EEWW.

Where the HELL is the LYSOL?

Split Hoofed Animals

I was at a baby shower today. I was sitting down, minding my chips and dip they had out to munch on while I was chatting away with the person next to me, trying to avoid the puffs of bad breath coming out of their mouth while I was dipping my chips. The less than fresh breath is not the point of this post.

Intermittently, I would turn my head while eating the dipped chip, to catch some halitosis-free air. This went on for a while, enough so that I had to switch from sour cream and onion chips being dipped into sour cream onion dip, to regular Lays which held their crisp shape while dipping. I was quite enjoying the snack.

Since I was sitting there, turning my head every now and then, I noticed another of the girls at the shower. She was standing on the other side of the table chatting with someone standing next to me. She was dressed casual, in jeans. That was the problem. The jeans.

Well, it was not the type of jeans or the color or anything like that.

I was dipping and munching by myself at that point, with the one who was stinking up my little area with her breath that could have used a swig or two of Listerine, sitting quietly next to me, with her mouth SHUT.

The jeans had caught my attention. The camel claw was quite evident. With every shifting of weight, every twist of her torso or crossing of her legs. Now, had I not been sitting there, enjoying the Lays, and had she not decided to stand in front of me to talk to the other behind me, I would not have had that middle-eastern moment. Really.

Well the shower was over and I was here tonight, thinking about it, since its like when your sibling's other half decides to tell you about their sex life and gets in a disgusting detail before you can shut them up. It sticks in you mind, most annoyingly.

So I was wondering, what is the point of wearing jeans, to a baby shower, without underwear? What is that all about? Is it necessary? Is it obligatory? Is it comfortable having that denim all caught up in there? Oh, its not caught up in there? Then tell me, the claw or cloven hoof if you will, is a figment of the imagination?

I don't appreciate being put into the position, even if "accidentally", to bear witness to that!

Girls, do me a favor-save it for the men, if you are desperate, save it for your cat night out, but put on the underwear, on a regular basis. I am begging you.

Phone Etiquette

I really don't get it-and I have given it some thought. After that effort, I really do not have an answer, nor an acceptance of such behavior.

I am talking about people who PEE while talking on the phone. It's sick, really, it is.

I have this one particular girlfriend who does it on the "sneak", or so she thinks. She refuses to politely and discreetly end a conversation and call me back in order to use the "facilities". She prefers to keep talking and give herself the bum's rush on the john.

Like I can't her the tinkling in the toilet? Like I can stop from picturing her squatting on the toilet, releasing herself? Like it's NORMAL?

Talking louder or faster to me is not going to disguise the pee sound, nor the flush when she is done. EEWW.

I think I will have to use drastic measures with her-and clink as soon as I hear the tink.

I do love Ham....

I stumbled upon a wonderfully sweet blog, if a blog can be sweet, via the Blogs of Note.

What I liked best was the illustrations of the animals-reminded me of the orignal Winnie the Pooh, which I love.

Robin "Ech" Miller

This is Rachel Ray and Sandra Lee AGAIN. And she is another one who thinks her dopey dishes are worthy of some sort of recogniztion only because they are hers.

Her kitchen is pretty ugly too and she has these bony veiny hands.

Her bug eyes are annoying, especially when she opens them wider while shoveling the food into her big Rachel Ray like mouth.

She actually looks like a bobble head, now that I think about it-on a bony neck.

Why does she even have a show? I don't know. I don't know.

She needs the boot.

Paula Deen

Boy oh Boy, it's Paula!

Mind you, she doesn't claim to be a chef-she is a cook, and boy can she cook!

It's not only her infectious personality and her very attractive face-she has nice feminine hands as well-she just seems PLAIN nice and loves what she does. And has a good time doing it that is for sure.

Now, I don't think I can ever eat what she cooks, all that butter? All that cream? Now, don't get me wrong, I am sure it tastes good, but I think I will leave the devouring to Paula.

Mini Vans

Apparently these are STILL an attractive mode of travel, especially in America's suburbs. And, I thought regular vans were bad prior to the introduction of these horrid sliding side door contraptions.

Today, as I was out and about, I unwittingly was forced to notice that every annoying "driver" was in a mini van.

I sauntered over to McDonald's, as if going around the drive thru was not bad enough (people who go to McDonald's do not know how to align their vehicles properly within the boundary lines of the drive in section) and what is in front of me? A baby blue mini van. I believe the driver of this wretched vehicle believed he was driving something else, something that others would envy.

Now, could the mini van keep up with the moving traffic in the drive thru lane? No. Could he order quickly? No. Why did he have to keep the hind end of his mini van hanging out between the order window and the pay window? Who the hells knows?

So I get to the pick up window and I look up and what do I see? The Rolls Royce of mini vans parked horizontally taking up FIVE, yes FIVE, parking spots. I saw the back of his head bob up and down, stuffing all that trans fatty food down his throat, and probably littering the pristine floor that is a part of all mini vans with the fall out from his mouth.

If he had his window open, I would have thrown my grilled chicken snacker at the back of his head, which would have hopefully ruined his fine dining moment. But, would it have been worth it? Nope. I particularly like the grilled chicken snacker and what a waste that would have been.

This is but one example of the elephant of the road. Usually there is some mini van sow at the wheel- you know who I mean- the manly woman who has a firm grip on the wheel with the double chin protrusion trying to maneuver her vehicle into any free space between two cars on any stretch of road, while sucking down a Big Gulp. I usually wonder how mini van front ends keep stable with something like that driving at the helm. I also wonder who the hell would marry something like that?

Mini van drivers can't park. They sashay into the spot, usually with the back wheels into the space next to them. WTF is that? I usually find this out AFTER I come out of the store. This is why other cars don't like mini vans. This is why I don't like mini vans, in addition to the grimy, icky sweaty children that hang out in the middle seats, who slide open the side door before a complete stop while in the parking lot, during the heat of summer, screaming, running, hitting other cars in its vicinity while trying to get out of that hot death trap.

And you still continue to drive one, don't you?

Sandra Lee

Look at me I'm Sandra Lee, talentless as I can be.......

Where did they find her? In the processed food section of glossy discount coupons?

Not only is she the Queen of Crappy Crafts, trying to hide her thirst for everything alcoholic behind a rash of bad food combinations and recipes, I have found her peppy blondness as annoying as Rachel Ray.

Ms. L'Oreal No. 9 does more drinking than eating, even on her own show. How annoying is her bland white kitchen when it surreptitiously appears in every monochromatic color of the rainbow since it will match her tacky tablescapes? ( I don't even know if that is a word )

I don't know what is more annoying about her-her two inch wide slumpy back holding up those those jugaboobs or her constant reference to the imminent arrival of her guests who are never seen, the utter disregard for her over use of processed and fat ladened ingredients she loves, or the manner in which she slops her ingredients all over the place and wastes more of them in her throw away sink than she actually uses. [ She has a sink, and Rachel has a bowl, both annoying.]

Hey, cocktail girl, you need to GO!

Tyler Florence

Yes, he cooks well and it's usually good, hearty food. One problem. Well, two.

While cooking, will you PLEASE:

1. STOP licking your fingers
2. STOP wiping your fingers on your pants?

Thank you.

Picking Your Nose

Another topic on the level of peed on toilets. And, I began to think about it last night, in disgust, while watching the mindless VH-1 "I Love New York"- mindless, yet entertaining, well except for one thing: Mr. Boston's nose picking. On national TV. Right there in full view of his competitors and Ms. New York.

Finally one of the guys said something about it in a commentary. But, there he was at elimination shoving his fingers in and out and in and out of his nostrils, rolling whatever he dug out around between his two fingers, and then continued on; and Ms. New York still kissed him! Gross. I have to believe she did not see it or know where his fingers where, but she did eliminate him, so maybe his nose picking had something to do with it. He seemed perfectly fine doing out in the open.

Now, this is not only a problem on this reality show. It's something that, well as we all know, is a regular thing A LOT of people do, much to my chagrin. They do it while driving the car, and they do it pretty good, too. How many times have I been minding my own business, driving on the highway for example and I turn to look at a passing car, and there is some old man sticking his narly finger up his nostril while keeping an eye on the road in front of him? Plenty.

Does he care if I see him? Apparently not. Does he have any shame in doing what he is doing? Apparently not. Does he do it quickly and discreetly? Absolutely not, because if he did, I would not be watching him poke around in there like he is digging for potatoes or something similar.

Maybe he does it on purpose. Maybe he thinks we can't really see him while he is in his car, driving and picking his nose like he was harvesting cherries. Maybe he does not even care.

It's true. Many don't care. And I will give you another example.

You are waiting on line at a deli counter and it's your turn. So you put in your order, telling the deli clerk what you want, they mentally take it in (if you don't make them overload with more than one item) and then they do it. Mostly quick and swift. Nonchalantly, with the protection of that ratty plastic hand glove: as they go to open the deli case, there goes their finger in and out of that nose so discreetly and fast, that if you glanced at the salami wondering if you could handle the salt content, you would never know they sliced your cold cuts with a finger that just had a rendezvous with their nose. That is when I just walk away. JUST WALK AWAY.

Giada

Even though Giada has a forehead big enough for an outdoor drive-in, I really like her and her cooking.

She is very attractive and her mother looks like her sister. I love that her show is family oriented, meaning she involves her family in the show and they are interesting and can cook along with Giada very well.

Her hands are equisite: feminine, petite and well shaped. She always has on the most palest of pinks polish on her nails.

She handles and prepares the food in as a delicate manner as are her delicate hands.

She comes across as sweet, caring and genuine, and yes, she can cook, and magnificently at that-who knew that Italian food had so much delicious variation?

Krazy Karla

Very gratefully, I stumbled upon another pop out your eyes to read every word blog. Well, my eyes popped long before I could read every entry, but no worries, I will return to finish reading the delightful craziness from Karla.

She not only is witty and sharp, but like a friend from CA once said, sharp like a tack. Now that is to the point.

She hit upon a topic I have mused about, mentally at least, during every trip to a public restroom and sometimes in private homes: the in-aliable TOILET.

Like Karla, I do everything I can to NOT touch a damned thing in any public restroom and I even lament when I have to use an arm or knee to maneuver hands free in that hell hole.

But, I never, as Karla, likened pee sprayed toilet seats AND FLOORS (yes, I will freak out if I thought I stepped on floor pee) to urinal cow spray. Quite a thought. She is quite right.

Why then do women pee on seats? I don't rightly know. I surmise that maybe they don't crouch closely enough to the toilet seat and miss, or they are crouched close enough and can't control the flow while trying to rely on thigh muscles to keep them from making contact with the toilet seat?

They might have a heavy pocket book dangling from their necks, keeping them off kilter from the toilet seat or are trying to hold an infant, keeping them from touching the pee floor and only have one hand to maneuver the removal of underwear and their bladder is not cooperating at such moments.

There could be many, many more reasons, too numerous to put forth here, in this blog, at least. But regardless of the reason, what defies LOGIC, is why why why these women are confounded by the additional and most useful use of toilet paper in a public restroom is to WIPE the seat!

So for now, I will make it a point to return to Karla's blog and see how well the toilet issue develops.

Rachel Ray

OK, I am so sick of seeing this woman with tight fitting tops and seeing her bellybutton protrusion looking like over plumped and sagging fish lips, to match her bass sized mouth.

Her voice is more than annoying in her guffaw type verbalization of goof ball expressions, bellowed in her manly, gutturally toned vocals. [Though I did see her with her husband in NYC on $40 a day, acting repulsively helpless and squeaky voiced-really gross]

Her lumberjack hands are just that-thick, short and squatty-ugh! A sharp contrast to her side slit teeny tiny almond shaped eyes. Yuck.

As to her money saving tips, she is not telling us anything a single celled creature can't figure out.


And for God's sake, will you WASH your mushrooms!

Oh, yeah: she needs a boob job if she insists on wearing those tight tops.

She does not eat on camera-just picks- but is still chunky looking for some reason.

AND WTF is it with the way she eats? The woman never encapsulates any utensil with her lips like the rest of us-it's a teeth clamping that goes on instead. EEWWW-so annoying. I guess she has a thing about her lips touching utensils.....



I don't know why this woman is so annoying-meaning why does she continue on and on with it? She cannot cook, well she can probably fry cook, and she does nothing interesting or skilled; yet, she gets paid millions for doing relatively nothing.

I LOVE YOU New York!

Today being a lazy day, I was searching through blogs, again. I have to find a better way. I googled and though the search results where like 11M, I was only "allowed" to get through 35 pages.... I tried to add key words and just got a lot of the same blogs I had just skimmed.

If I use the NextBlog feature, I keep getting mostly the same blogs or the "bestest blog ever" and the same rotational blogs from there. I also landed on a blog that required a PASSWORD and I had to completely shut down the browser to get OFF of that- what a drag!

But despite all the problems, I found a blog where there are beautiful photographs of famous places in gorgeous NYC. I LOVE NY! There is no other place like it on earth. Just gorgeous.

Take a look at NY at Christmas time, the photos are great!

Macey and Timothy

I will try and start linking to blogs I stumble upon and that I found clever and witty-blogs that make me want to read all entries.

This morning, I found what is called the Mooselog blog, which I was not sure why it was called that.

It's written from the perspective of a beagle dog about life with Timothy, an apparent intruder into Macey's life.

Well written, and "mind catching" for its very fine use of description; it's a blog well worth visiting.

I LIKED it!

p.s. Macey, this little girl looks very much like she could be Timothy's sister: chikkin.blogspot.com

Taurus

I read a blog today, as I usually try to do when I have a chance; actually, when I need to take a break from work or while chatting on the phone. It was about rice pudding and it was written by a Taurean woman.

It struck me as so ironically true; Taureans, mainly men, basically think of two things: food and sex. One is as important at the other.

I have dated Taurean men and every meal has to be an event-it revolves around the quality of the food, whether at a hole in the wall or fine dining.

Now, that is not to say that these fine specimen bulls are totally oblivious to the finer things, but let me tell you, if the food is tastier, more abundant and plain just delicious, they will ignore the most voluptiously naked female while they have food on their mind.

This is not to say that food does not enter into the romance department, but usually each event, food or sex/romance
(for with a bull, these are never really separate), each is as equally as pleasurable on its own. One usually follows the other and the routine is food first, then sex/romance.

The power of food with Taurus people is amazing. Many of them have quite a girth, and they still cut a fine figure. They usually are exceptionally beautiful. I have noticed common characteristics are the bovine eyes and the thick sturdy necks-yes even the women have them. If they are not the rare slender bull or cow, they are both usually top heavy, with the women having such an enormous top as wide as the chest is for the men.

The bulls I have dated have exceptionally shaped legs and from the waist up, a fine spread V shape and all have had exceptional upper strength. They are good protectors, but that comes with a price. Bulls or Cows rarely give up their possessions and that includes those of the human kinds.

As between both of these, I have learned each have explosive tempers, despite the tranquil lives they strive to protect. The women are more volitile when angered, like their bovine counterpart, they attack with their eyes open, making them more dangerous- they will seek you out.

Bulls shut their eyes before they charge, and Taurean men, basically do the same thing, because if they do not get you with the very quick and volcanic attack they can rapidly bring upon you-meaning EVERYTHING in their vicinity will be destroyed-once they open those eyes (calm down) they will not expend any more energy.

So, the rice pudding story was appropo as a topic for a Taurean blog. Really.

The Real Housewives of Orange County

PUH LEEZ! Why do I watch this drivel? It is actually repulsive. HELL OH!

These women not only look like they have pulled their skin [ that looks like partially melted in the microwave plastic] over those bony faces, but they all have that fake looking Colorado Red Rock tan.

The one who works in the travel agency or whatever that business is [the one that is run by the woman with the crater pit dimples- geez, have you ever seen dimples so deep and nasty?]- who was moronic beyond belief, and is now engaged? What is up with that? She looks like she is 55-60 with a really bad face lift [eh, stretch], but supposedly she is only 45- HA!

All of them, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM, are completely useless. Charity? Altruism? Non existent there in COTO as long as these parasitic women are around.

Who I think are worse, are the men that WANT to support them-WTF is that all about? Support for useless women-blah blah blah about money and things and money and things and things and money- The beautiful people? Maybe, but there is alot of beautiful fruit with rotten insides that no one wants.

You can't take it with you and when you are standing there being called to account, its not going to matter about money, things, money, things... now will it? Now that is something they all can take to the bank.