I admit I spent too much time yesterday reading New York magazine’s cover story this week about “the Half-Hooker Economy.” I don’t know what to think about it; I just don’t have enough foundational information about how high-end nightclubs and the ho’s and athletes who patronize them actually work. I do know a little about rich people, however, and it’s this: Deep down, they’re cheap. I have a hard time believing that no matter how drunk they are, they spend six-figure sums in a single night, paying a thousand bucks for a bottle of Gray Goose vodka, but who knows? It’s not like this is my world. (And, to be sure, there are lots of weasel words in the piece, lots of “up to” and “can be as high as” and “she has seen” in there. I don’t think it would survive a rigorous fact-check.)
I was almost through with the piece before I realized I’d been tricked into reading yet another story about yet another hybrid of prostitution. Is there no end to the public’s thirst for learning the ugly details of how sex is exchanged for money and luxury goods? Evidently not. Even when they trot out the same details the same way. Ahem: cntrl/F college:
Kim became a bottle girl after she graduated from a very good college on the East Coast. “I figured: I’m cute, I’m young, I can make a shitload of money, so,” she says, holding up two middle fingers, “fuck it!” She had previously worked as a restaurant waitress, and she wasn’t naïve about the difference between that job and this one. “If you say you’re a bottle waitress, it’s better than saying you’re a stripper. But it’s the same thing as being a stripper,” she says. What she means by stripper is someone who is a touchable commodity. There is never money exchanged, but there are gifts the following week. Pairs of Louboutins, Louis Vuitton bags, trips. It’s not unusual for a bottle waitress to take two days off and fly to Vegas with a client. She won’t get fired for that, so long as when they return, the client will spend large at the club.
Every story like this features a college girl, and not just any college girl. No one holding an associate’s degree from the Everest Institute appears in stories like this, only those from “very good” schools “on the East Coast.” The code: Not even that fancy Ivy League education will save your daughter from getting Tiger Woods’ hand prints all over her butt. Your girls are at risk, even with MBAs.
Feh. I stand by everything I wrote back then. Maybe the more interesting question is why we aren’t training more girls to recognize this game for what it is. A beautiful young woman is a perishable asset. I think I mentioned a disturbing “This American Life” episode a few months back, about the drinking culture at Penn State, i.e., pretty much all colleges. It was horrifying top to bottom, but the worst was a throwaway section about how girls have to dress to get into frat parties, where the kegs flow all night and you can get hammered away from the prying eyes of the police. They show up on doorsteps wearing the tiniest dresses and the tallest heels, looking as hawt as they can make themselves, hoping to be admitted by the doorman.
I suppose some of these girls will go on to become party girls at high-end nightclubs, angling for a spot at Derek Jeter’s elbow. Does Penn State count as a very good college?
So how is everyone’s springtime going? I’m looking at my backyard forsythia now, in full and lovely bloom, and I’m hoping for just a few notches less warmth over the next few days, so they stay a while. These summer temperatures got everything going allatonce, and I waited a long damn time for that yellow, I want to appreciate it. On the other hand, Alan is suffering with pollen allergies — the warmth was accompanied by a hot wind, which blew everything around and made the allergic miserable.
I’m so glad I avoided these things. Can’t even say.
So, some bloggage:
The WSJ takes on a trendlet you might call “extreme foreclosure.” Rather than post a link to another story most people can’t read, I’ll just point you to the Gawker summation.
Why it’s OK to hate Mississippi.
Why everyone should have Awful Plastic Surgery bookmarked.
Why I’m outta here: Work. Shopping. Spring break.
Deborah said on April 6, 2010 at 10:36 am
So true, the rich can be cheap. Many years ago I had a job with a bunch of former debutantes. It was the kind of designer job a lot of people got because their Dad knew someone (except for me, I got the job with my portfolio). My boss usually liked to hire socialite’s daughters. Anyway, these girls were the cheapest things. Every time there was a birthday lunch for someone and every one was supposed to pitch in, they never did, and they always ordered the most expensive things on the menu. It used to steam me because I worked hard for my pay, lots of late night and weekend work. They were never there of course. I guess it was entitlement, they thought they deserved to have their way paid by the rest of us.
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Jeff Borden said on April 6, 2010 at 10:47 am
The answer Charlie Sheen, a regular customer of Heidi Fleiss, gave when asked why a prostitute is worth a certain amount of money replied (paraphrasing here): “You’re not paying for the sex. You’re paying for her to go home.” Any police reporter will tell you how sad and tawdry the “life” of these women really is after following a vice squad sweep a few times. It’s one of the reasons “Pretty Woman” still nauseates me: the very idea of someone who looks like Julia Roberts working Hollywood Boulevard at night is so far beyond the pale it’s science fiction. The higher-end women, those who work the nicer hotels and the better conventions, are still likely to be junkies and in thrall to a male.
Every once in awhile, you have someone like Sidney Biddle Barrow, an Ivy League educated woman who could link her ancestors to the Mayflower, getting involved with the business, but these are the exceptions that prove the rule.
Your comment about Mississippi got me to thinking about how tribal we are. I could no more live in Mississippi or Arkansas or Utah or Texas or Oklahoma than I could balance a bowling ball on my nose. I’m certain there are many fine people in all those states and many wonderful reasons to live there, but I fear I’d be an alien among the majority of citizens. I’m equally certain many, probably most, of the residents of these states would rather swallow razor blades than live in my Chicago neighborhood.
Sheesh, I felt the cloying religiosity when I lived in Charlotte, one of the beacons of the New South, but still a place where a fundamentalist lunatic could claim she was told to run for mayor after God carved an altar of sand on Myrtle Beach where she dropped to her knees and prayed. I cannot see myself living in a state where a woman who suffers a miscarriage may be investigated for purposely killing her fetus (Utah), or a place where every single county went for John McCain and She-Who (Oklahoma) and is represented by two of the worst senators in America.
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Sue said on April 6, 2010 at 11:05 am
‘These summer temperatures got everything going allatonce’
When I read that sentence I thought you had gone all fancy and French on me – what’s a la tonsay?
Oh, and by the way, so sorry to all those Butler fans out there. The best comment I heard last night was “Duke won, but Butler didn’t lose”. Absolutely.
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moe99 said on April 6, 2010 at 11:53 am
I went back and read your article from 2008, Nance. It slightly predates my discovery of your site (thank you so much!) and discovered that everyone has gravatars! Even Ashley. How cool.
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coozledad said on April 6, 2010 at 11:53 am
Poor old Mississippi.It’s been a fake prom for that feudal hill of crap since they buggered the Indians out of it. One day some of those venal kids will get to go to a real city, realize their formative years were spent as something between a crab louse and a liver fluke, and they’ll wish really, really bad things on their dumbass folks.
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Julie Robinson said on April 6, 2010 at 11:56 am
Jeff B, I immediately thought of Pretty Woman, too. That movie did a grave disservice by turning prostitution into a kind of fairy tale. I can almost hear the producer’s pitch: “we’ll make it glamorous and give it a happy ending. Then every young girl can aspire to be treated horribly.”
I dunno, but I never had any desire to be a bad girl. Maybe it’s because I could express myself by being involved in music and theatre. It kept me busy and gave me lots of ways to channel my emotions harmlessly. It also gave me a clan to belong to. I was surrounded by good friends who never led me astray.
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Jeff (the mild-mannered one) said on April 6, 2010 at 12:40 pm
Right behind “Pretty Woman” is “Bridges of Madison County.” Won’t say it never happens like that, but 1 in 5,000 is more like it. For prostitutes or flings, the other 4,999 situations are somewhere between sad, tawdry, and the morgue. Having just got off the phone to the Children’s Services abuse reporting line (work related, no less unpleasant) where I was six minutes on hold before I got to speak to the staffer — this is on the so-called “hot line.”
“Yeah, sorry, lots of post-Easter visitation calls.” You can imagine.
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Jolene said on April 6, 2010 at 12:45 pm
It’s not especially shocking to me that kids would be horrible to someone they see as different, but it is shocking that parents would participate in the kind of orgamized subterfuge that would have been required to keep the location of the private prom a secret.
How awful, really, to be teaching your kids not only intolerance but also that it’s OK to deceive people in the course of expressing your prejudices.
I saw last night that someone had gone to the trouble of looking at the Facebook profiles of kids who appeared in photos from the private prom and found that many claimed affiliations w/ organizations that had “Christian” or “Baptist” in the title. Guess they skipped over that “Whatsoever you do . . .” passage in the Bible.
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Julie Robinson said on April 6, 2010 at 1:02 pm
Jeff tmmo, I loved Bridges of Madison County and told my mom she had to read it, since she grew up in Iowa. Her response? “Hmmph, it’s just another story about adultery.” And with that, the scales fell from my eyes.
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MRMARK said on April 6, 2010 at 2:22 pm
I like the allatonce! Great word. Just like our pollen count here in Atlanta…from this AM’s AJC:
If you thought Monday’s pollen count was high, wait until you step outside. Tuesday’s reading of 2,967 particles of pollen per cubic meter of air was nearly double Monday’s count of 1,633.
The major pollens present Tuesday morning were birch, maple, oak, sweetgum and willow, according to the Atlanta Allergy and Asthma Clinic.
Late last week, the count was climbing slowly, from a mere 17 on Wednesday to 59 on Thursday to 112 on Friday; then the count exploded well into the extremely high category on Monday. Anything over 120 is considered extremely high.
In 2009, Atlanta’s pollen count peaked at 3,583 on April 6.
From my wife’s garden, I bring you Pink Gerbera Daisy.
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Jeff (the mild-mannered one) said on April 6, 2010 at 4:18 pm
Note to anyone who may have a juvenile court appointment coming up — don’t show up wearing an orange & black t-shirt that says in large white letters “Screw it. Let’s ride.” I happen to know why she wore it: the shirt was clean, and on top of the basket. The words don’t really say to her what they said to our diversion staff.
I’m so bad at languages, I never thought I’d be doing as much translation work as this job entails.
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Jean S said on April 6, 2010 at 5:43 pm
and on a completely shallow note, the bad plastic surgery site is right up there with the gofugyourself site. Both make me feel brilliant.
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LAMary said on April 6, 2010 at 6:55 pm
What is up with the weird look people get from getting something injected into their face? The skin texture looks awful. It looks like it hardens or something. Eww.
On a different note, I think Julia Roberts was working Santa Monica Boulevard, or maybe Sunset.
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deb said on April 6, 2010 at 7:07 pm
LA Mary, Nance and I just had a conversation about this when a higher-up in my office returned from a week off with a strangely textured, extremely shiny face. I couldn’t stop staring at her upper lip, which was utterly hairless and looked oddly like plastic. Nance explained all: shiny face = Botox. There you go.
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deb said on April 6, 2010 at 7:08 pm
I always had trouble with Pretty Woman, too. Girls! Spend a couple years on your back (or knees) and you, too, could end up with Richard Gere! Sick-making. The way I figure it, it’s like being the other woman and then getting the guy to marry you. What do you get? A spouse with a history of cheating on his wife. Or, in Julia Roberts’ character’s case, frequenting hookers.
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Jolene said on April 6, 2010 at 8:40 pm
Awww, you guys are no fun. I think most people can distinguish between real life and “Pretty Woman”. I liked that movie, not only for its wit and charm and the handsomeness of Richard Gere but also because I loved all the great clothes that Julia Roberts got to buy.
Where would literature, music, and movies be without infidelity, improbable love affairs, and unrequited longing?
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nancy said on April 6, 2010 at 8:45 pm
A columnist of my acquaintance wrote a piece once in which his wife, who didn’t like country music, asked why “someone’s always leaving” in country songs. He said, “If no one ever left, the Country Music Awards would be about three minutes long.” You can say that about almost everything, however. It’s why I get frustrated when right-wingers complaint that movies aren’t about “moral” people, and lefties whine that Glenn Close’s character in “Fatal Attractive” somehow represents every single woman in the world. If no one ever misbehaved, all the movies in the world would be damn boring.
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Deborah said on April 6, 2010 at 9:14 pm
I should say, thanks for the kind words about my daughter Little Bird’s story that I revealed yesterday about her neurological condition. Yes it’s a challenge but not insurmountable at all. We have the means to make it work and we are thankful for that.
LA Mary, so sorry to hear about your brother. I was astounded that he was diagnosed in the 30s. My daughter was born in the mid 70s and so much was unknown about the condition even then. So much more is known now, but still so many doctors don’t have a clue. My daughter was fortunate by sheer luck to have a doctor who is one of the world’s leading authorities about the disorder who just happened to practice out of Washington University in St. Louis, a few blocks from where we lived at the time.
I’m so thankful that she will be able to get health insurance soon.
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brian stouder said on April 6, 2010 at 9:57 pm
If no one ever misbehaved, all the movies in the world would be damn boring.
Agreed, and indeed – if no one ever behaves, then the damned movies become unwatchable. Last night I dipped into The Bad Lieutenant a few times (it was on IFC). The acting in the bits I watched was superb, the mood and pitch and look of the movie had a certain allure – but sheesh!! I cannot imagine ever paying full ticket price to see such as that.
Folks like the Proprietress – who genuinely do know better than me – will disagree, but movies like No Country For Old Men are just not for me; which is totally OK. This is why they build multiplex theaters, afterall.
Non-sequitur: in our current political environment, we seem to have an inertial, visceral dislike and distrust of our president no matter the subject. Chris Matthews did a riff yesterday about Limbaugh’s new (and heavily repetitive) use of the word “regime” with regard to the Oabama administration. Our local lip-flapper has taken the cue, and regularly whips up his callers to attack the president, even including the president’s ceremonial First Pitch at the Nationals’ opening day game.
Really.
See, the president wore a Sox cap (along with his Nationals wind breaker), and when he visited the radio booth after the pitch, the announcers playfully called him out on the hat, and when the president said he was a south Chicago fellow and always liked the Sox, the announcer asked who his favorite players were.
Clearly, the president had no names to name, and as he gabbed on, the tape gets stopped, and our local announcer called the president a liar! And then the next few callers immediately agreed, and said that everything he says is a lie, etc etc etc.
Speaking for myself, I’d say I’m a Fort Wayne Tin Caps fan, and I’d root for the Komets, and when I read that the University of Saint Francis basketball team won a championship I smiled….and I couldn’t name a single player on any of those teams, if you offered me $50 (or $5000, or 72 ‘bottle girls’ and a private jet to Vegas)
As we approach April 19 (which seems to be nutball Christmas anymore), today’s little exchange on the radio, and the block-headed, knee jerk antipathy/hostility toward our president that Rush Limbaugh and Fox News orchestrates every day reminded me of this funny bit:
(John Hay’s description of an angry delegation from Missouri, that visited President Lincoln in 1863, with a view to venting their spleens and sharing their incoherent collection of prejudices and complaints)
“In the main ignorant and well-meaning, they chose for their spokesman Drake, who is neither ignorant nor well-meaning, who covered the marrow of what they wanted to say in a purposeless mass of unprofitable verbiage which they accepted because it sounded so well, and the President will reject because it is nothing but sound.”
Isn’t that marvelous? (John Hay is a superb writer. One of these days I will have to read his and Nicolay’s big biography of our 16th president)
Ignorant and well meaning folks being lead by people who are neither ignorant nor well meaning is just so 2010, you know?
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basset said on April 6, 2010 at 10:10 pm
Something fairly close to that prom situation happened to me back in ’73, out in the country northeast of Evansville – I had essentially no social life, stayed in the library when I should have been at the mandatory pep rallies, and wasn’t even on the radar when the party calls went out.
Finally got invited to one, kegger in someone’s barn around graduation time, big surprise – less so when I arrived and the place was dark, nobody around. I’m straight, but not caring about basketball is a crime against nature in Indiana.
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Jeff (the mild-mannered one) said on April 6, 2010 at 11:07 pm
Brian, we should dare each other — I’ve never had the kidneys to take on Hay/Nicolay, and I’m sure I should. If you can read Grant’s Memoirs (as opposed to having them hollowed out to hide your whiskey flask), which both of us have, then . . .
I don’t mind dysfunction and dereliction, but I wonder why no one has made movies out of any Chekhov stories, as opposed to the plays. I’m not looking for movies that are only about moral people, just characters that I can care about and who make recognizable, comprehendable choices. The problem with “Die Hard” or “Transformers” type movies is that at a certain point, the people just aren’t making choices anymore, they’re just following the script while saying lines.
It would really be interesting to see a movie treatment of Iris Murdoch’s “A Fairly Honourable Defeat,” which has an ending that would give no comfort to moviegoers who want a tidy moral or happy ending, but would provoke some pretty energetic discussions about morality and good and evil as the viewers left the theater.
From “The Pickwick Papers,” chapter XIII —
‘Is everything ready?’ said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey to Mr. Perker.
‘Everything, my dear Sir,’ was the little man’s reply.
‘Nothing has been omitted, I hope?’ said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey.
‘Nothing has been left undone, my dear sir–nothing whatever. There are
twenty washed men at the street door for you to shake hands with; and
six children in arms that you’re to pat on the head, and inquire the age
of; be particular about the children, my dear sir–it has always a great
effect, that sort of thing.’
‘I’ll take care,’ said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey.
‘And, perhaps, my dear Sir,’ said the cautious little man, ‘perhaps
if you could–I don’t mean to say it’s indispensable–but if you could
manage to kiss one of ’em, it would produce a very great impression on
the crowd.’
‘Wouldn’t it have as good an effect if the proposer or seconder did
that?’ said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey.
‘Why, I am afraid it wouldn’t,’ replied the agent; ‘if it were done by
yourself, my dear Sir, I think it would make you very popular.’
‘Very well,’ said the Honourable Samuel Slumkey, with a resigned air,
‘then it must be done. That’s all.’
‘Arrange the procession,’ cried the twenty committee-men.
Amidst the cheers of the assembled throng, the band, and the constables,
and the committee-men, and the voters, and the horsemen, and the
carriages, took their places–each of the two-horse vehicles being
closely packed with as many gentlemen as could manage to stand upright
in it; and that assigned to Mr. Perker, containing Mr. Pickwick, Mr.
Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass, and about half a dozen of the committee besides.
There was a moment of awful suspense as the procession waited for the
Honourable Samuel Slumkey to step into his carriage. Suddenly the crowd
set up a great cheering.
‘He has come out,’ said little Mr. Perker, greatly excited; the more so
as their position did not enable them to see what was going forward.
Another cheer, much louder.
‘He has shaken hands with the men,’ cried the little agent.
Another cheer, far more vehement.
‘He has patted the babies on the head,’ said Mr. Perker, trembling with
anxiety.
A roar of applause that rent the air.
‘He has kissed one of ’em!’ exclaimed the delighted little man.
A second roar.
‘He has kissed another,’ gasped the excited manager.
A third roar.
‘He’s kissing ’em all!’ screamed the enthusiastic little gentleman, and
hailed by the deafening shouts of the multitude, the procession moved
on.
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Jeff (the mild-mannered one) said on April 6, 2010 at 11:40 pm
[Just a bit further on . . .]
The speeches of the two candidates, though differing in every other
respect, afforded a beautiful tribute to the merit and high worth of
the electors of Eatanswill. Both expressed their opinion that a
more independent, a more enlightened, a more public-spirited, a more
noble-minded, a more disinterested set of men than those who had
promised to vote for him, never existed on earth; each darkly hinted
his suspicions that the electors in the opposite interest had certain
swinish and besotted infirmities which rendered them unfit for the
exercise of the important duties they were called upon to discharge.
Fizkin expressed his readiness to do anything he was wanted: Slumkey,
his determination to do nothing that was asked of him. Both said that
the trade, the manufactures, the commerce, the prosperity of Eatanswill,
would ever be dearer to their hearts than any earthly object; and each
had it in his power to state, with the utmost confidence, that he was
the man who would eventually be returned.
The Pickwick Papers, 1837.
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brian stouder said on April 6, 2010 at 11:40 pm
Jeff – indeed I did read and enjoy US Grant’s memoirs some years ago, as I’m sure you did; and WT Sherman wrote a suprisingly good memoir, too. (that’s where I read and immediately liked the term “young folks” – I think he wrote to Grant something along the lines of looking forward to finishing up the war and going back home to see the young folks).
If the governor of Virginia wants to have Confederate History Month, they should have it in April. It’s when they started the war (attacking a US military installation in Charleston Harbor in April of 1861); the horrible fight at Shiloh ocurred in April of 1862; there were bread riots in Richmond in April 1863; and by the end of April, 1864 US Grant was ready to begin the exceptionally terrible Overland campaign – wherein more than 8,000 casualties a week were sustained by the United States Army in Virginia, for seven weeks.
And indeed, in April 1865, a wannabe lion of the Confederacy murdered the president.
Maybe the governor of Virginia’s proud “Confederate History” month is on to something here.
Or not.
edit – I clicked Nancy’s Awful Plastic Surgery link, and got a kick out of Bad Boob jobs!
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MarkH said on April 7, 2010 at 12:57 am
I’ve been an APS fan for years, but I don’t think the site mistress (HAS to be a woman, doesn’t it?) makes correct calls all the time. Not everyone she spotlights has had work. Does anyone really think (or know if) Redford needs a wig? He’ll be sporting that tousled blond surfboy look even when he’s in the casket. But it’s fun checking in to see just how far Jocelyn Wildenstein might go.
And in the spirit of dissing Julia Roberts’ faux whore, it always amazed me that Redford passed himself off as an authentic mountain man in “Jeremiah Johnson”. Anyone ever see pictures of Jim Bridger, Jedediah Smith, Hugh Glass, etc.? Chris Lapp: “Watch your topknot!” Johnson: “You watch your’n!” YOUR’N?! Redford saying YOUR’N??! Sheesh.
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Jolene said on April 7, 2010 at 1:14 am
So you heard, Brian, that our recently elected governor did, in fact, name April Confederate History Month. So embarrassing. You can read the proclamation on his web site.
If you’re from Virginia–or even if you’re not–consider calling his office or sending an email pointing out that there really is nothing honorable about having attempted to destroy the country by recruiting poor white boys to defend the right of rich white men to derive their comforts from the forced labor of black people.
Can’t remember where I saw this now, but someone said we should be grateful that the guv was able to refer to the conflict as the Civil War rather than the War of Northern Aggression.
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coozledad said on April 7, 2010 at 7:51 am
The federal government ought to honor Confederate history month by cutting off all subsidies to the states wanting to participate. Another thing they could do is herd cracker Virginia into earth floor shacks and get them out on the road picking up garbage in the morning, especially around the new statues of Sherman, Thomas, and Sheridan cast from the bells of the antebellum Episcopal churches. You don’t give treason a leg up.
Patrick McHenry wants to take Grant off the fifty and put Reagan on instead. I have a better suggestion: put Patrick’s face on a roadside glory-hole token and call it the Amero.
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beb said on April 7, 2010 at 8:21 am
Coolzedad seems a trite bitter this morning. Maybe hasn’t had his coffee yet? I’m more of a paxil man myself.
Getting back to Nancy’s comments on The Half-Hooker thing, Nancy mentioned that the rich are cheap. Not having met any I can’t be sure but from other reports it appears that they are. But I think that applies to Old Money and the people running to these very up-scale nightclubs all sounds like New Money – Musicians, athletes, stockbrokers…. This sounds like the sort of lifestylel that bankrupcted MC Hammer before his 15 minutes of fame were up.
And while Rachel U. isn’t a madam she certainly is a procurerer.
I don’t think Virginia needs a whole month for Confederate History. Because the whole history of the Confederacy can be summed up in two words: “we lost.”
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John said on April 7, 2010 at 8:29 am
“We lost, but we will continue to live like we won.”
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MichaelG said on April 7, 2010 at 9:33 am
Gawd, I’ll also fess up to peeking at APS for the last several years.
My only reaction to the whole half hooker business is “So what’s new”? Also a “So what’s new?” to all the eminently predictable moralistic reactions. The term “knee-jerk” comes to mind.
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Deborah said on April 7, 2010 at 10:28 am
Oh good my gossip itch can get scratched, Rielle Hunter is going to be on Oprah.
Sorry MichaelG, that Half Hooker article was sickening. I couldn’t read the whole thing. It’s just so mercenary, that’s what’s so disgusting, it’s all about money not sex.
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del said on April 7, 2010 at 10:47 am
The half hooker stuff all sounds like Jay McInerney’s roman a clef about Rielle Hunter’s NY party days.
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LAMary said on April 7, 2010 at 10:57 am
Deborah, my brother wasn’t diagnosed with NF until the 70s. Back in the late 30s he was being treated with electroshock therapy among other things. My dad swore he was intellectually fine until a long stay at a hospital in Boston where there was someone who was considered a specialist for epilepsy. I wasn’t born until the 5os, so I never got the whole story about what was done to or for my brother. It wasn’t until my father died in 72 and I put my brother in a group facility that it was suggested he had NF. We always said he was retarded and had epilepsy.
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prospero said on April 8, 2010 at 12:00 am
Holy shit, Coozlsdad. I grew up in Detroit and hung around with those guys that wrote Black to Comm. In those days America was acting against Americann princip;es.
When America decided to align itself with School of them,Anericas thugs to allow creeps ro run things by raping Maryknoll nuns and leaving them buried in shallow graves, every single Reaganista shared in the murder. aJohn Negropante, for instance,
People on the neocon right should really not open up discussions. They got away with ballot box fraud in Ohio,. These are the people that murdered the Ardhbishop giving communion.
Pardon me if that offends somebody, but that’s exactly what the US countenances, like shooting the Cardinal while he was giving communion. Kussinger, Bush, Negroponte, all of their soon t be neocon buds. These were people that funded slurs against J, Kerry when they avoided combat abd pulled off the ridiculous dheat in Pulski County. Ronald Rygun thoughht the Archbisop should be assassinated while he was giving communion,.
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