Yeah, well, Slurpa Pop-Off's hair extensions were just falling out the other night at a fancy-ass party—I'm so riveted by that one, aren't you all, my jaded nelly-jellies? Really, I am.
Nevertheless, I'm going to go with a new member of the Blind Vice family—though, I must say, what earns her a mention in these asshole annals of abhorrent Hell-Ay behavior among the rich and stupid, is, well, utterly stupidola (and nothing new)! Read on:
Apple Marvini has it all (and I mean all). She's loaded as s–t. She's fairly well dressed, still got a decent bod. She gives regularly to charity, she's not without talent and she's newly searching for a legalized mattress mate—such fun when money's no object, n'est-ce pas? But perhaps that's just the prob.
The only guys A.M. seems to attract (including her most promising current prospect for a union) are those who are also into the majorly moneyed habits, not so much activities involving multiple climaxes and cleaning up the sheets afterward.
Yes, like many a less well-off gal throughout the nation, Ms. Em has found herself hankering for a dude who cares more about having his undies starched than dirtying up hers. Why do women do this, time after time? Granted, making the help cry can be sickly fascinating (A. and her “man” do this equally adeptly), but isn't holding the one you love—and lust for—till the sun comes up worth anything? Not to A.M., apparently. As she has, after all, made it quite clear she's not overly fond of what that cuddling (and accompanying commotion) produced with her last man.