Friday, November 1, 2013


Only the poor are crazy, darlings.  The rest of us are just eccentric.  If you must make sport of the costume party I attended at the nuthouse, make fun of the hors d'oeurves, which were unspeakable; and my ex-friend Fi, who drank a Methuselah of Cristal and let Prince Harry's PR secretary do unmentionable things to her on top of the banquette.
I wore this as a costume, which allowed for all sorts of interesting access.
Look, some might find the whole thing in poor taste; but like I said, only the proletariat can be truly crazy.  We are above such things.  For example:  Mum.  Someone should have locked that old Bertha in an attic long ago, but as she's wealthy we simply smile and dump Valium into her Scotch.

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