12.23.2002



I’ve been thinking about poor girls and rich girls. The world would be a better place if more pussy was exchanged between the classes. Is there anything as delicious as a marathon make-out session with a girl who’s decidedly not of your “station”? Despite what you might have been told (regardless of which side you’re on) it’s not the big irreconcilable differences that prevent us from understanding each other. It’s not about mutual funds and it’s not about what car you drive. Outright material shit doesn’t come into play between two girls with throbbing crotches. It’s the little things that matter—cultural differences it helps to be aware of. For example, rich girls have kitchens and bathrooms that are clean but never spotless. This is a result of always having servants when they grew up. The poor girl shouldn’t take it personally that there’s scum around the drain and a pubic hair beneath the soap dish in the shower. Instead she should tell herself, “This rich bitch never learned how to get down on her knees. That’s what I’m here for.”


Poor girls fuck up by thinking they have to blow an entire paycheck on a single gift for their rich girl. You can’t give a girl who was born into money expensive gifts and expect to impress her. If she’s truly rich, she’ll only be happy with trifles. Something Italian but everyday and in a set of two, like plain white coffee cups on plain white saucers or thin-ass martini glasses. She’ll pull away the tissue paper and exclaim in the most heartbreaking way about how she really needs this. What happens next is one of the only real differences between wealthy European girls and wealthy American girls--the European girl will happily place the gift on its proper shelf while the American girl will wash it first.

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