Confessions of a Judgmental Wench

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Okay, so I read the first couple of paragraphs of this article, and realized, again, that I’m pretty judgmental, and maybe prejudice.

Against rich people.

I can’t imagine paying $264 for an eight ounce piece of meat.  Ever.  Even if I was as rich as Oprah it would feel wrong to me.  And anyone who would, well, I think I hate them.  I like nice things, but people like Paris Hilton, who seem to have no redeeming qualities whatsoever just make me sick.

I think if I ever met Paris [or Naomi Campbell…she pisses me off, too, and so do her assistants.  I keep thinking that if that psycho skinny bitch ever hit me upside the head with a freaking phone, I’d put her in the hospital, you know?  Why do the assistants never fight back, that’s what I want to know?]

Anyway, the two adjectives that come to mind when I think of these weird-o heiresses or supermodels are vapid and shallow.  That one scene where Michael Jackson was shopping on that documentary [the one that led to the last accusations of molestation] and he just bought a bunch of crap that he didn’t need because he could.

I get so frustrated with people who have tons of money who use it to buy stuff for themselves, never thinking about the fact that they spend enough money in one shopping spree to feed a village in Africa for two years [or more].  That kid that Madonna adopted?  She bought him a bunch of furniture and clothes and spent almost $10,000 on ONE KID!!!  And it’s all infant stuff, so he’s gonna need it for what, six to eight months?

I just keep thinking that she could have given that money to the kid’s father [or put it in a trust fund] and paid for the boy’s education, and his father’s, too, if he wanted it, and fed and clothed them, probably for the rest of their lives.  That kind of crap pisses me off, and I think that makes me judgmental and prejudiced, and you know what?

I’m okay with that.

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