Lifestyles of the rich and stupid

(11 am. – promoted by ek hornbeck)

Today’s run for bottles and cans brought me into the Bubble Zone of suburbia. The Bubble Zone is where people with more money than brains live. This is the legendary Gold Coast of Long Island. Pristine and well maintained roads that date back to the late 1600s wind through immaculate expanses of land dotted with huge, well hidden estates. These places have not seen anything even remotely resembling a kid knocking over another kid for their lunch money in approximately 200 years (with perhaps the single exception of 9/11, as this area was home to no small number of affected brokers for Cantor Fitzgerald, six-figure income executives working for Marsh Insurance, etc).

Everything is beautiful and peaceful here and so it has ever been since at least 1950. You would never know, walking around in this area, that millions of Americans are unemployed, losing their homes, starving and struggling to pay for their medical care. This is the type of place where Bill O’Lielly and Hannity and most of Parasite Petey King’s constituents live – a land that doesn’t believe in the change that’s badly needed a mere 3 miles down the road.

But there is one thing that has been perennially true since the days when I was one of these upper middle class cluetards and walked amongst them regularly, and that is that people with more money than brains LITTER. Their kids drink beer in the woods and depart, leaving the evidence. Their adults are just as bad. Give a rich bitch a place to throw a bottle or a can that isn’t a garbage bin and I guarantee you, honey, they will throw them there by the shit-ton.

So I wandered the Bubble Zone seeking bottles and cans, and lo, I most assuredly found me some; along with no small amount of golf balls, baseballs, softballs and tennis balls. It was this last which led me to the discovery of the remains of… well, I guess it could be called lunch… for yet another American upper class suburban cluetard for whom even these idyllic surroundings are not enough of an escape from reality.

Our rich bitch, who shall remain nameless, went to Walgreens to pick up her prescription for Buspirone. We should all be glad that Buspirone, unlike it’s contemporaries Xanax, Paxil, Zoloft, etc is apparently “not addictive” and has “no contraindications with alcohol”, because even the idyllic surroundings of the LI Bubble Zone tennis courts AND Buspirone were insufficient to calm her delicate nerves. For lo, the rich bitch decided to wash down her Buspirone, some Greek yogurt and 75% of a package of fresh raspberries (the other 25% having been thrown away) with two boilermakers.

Now this was of some interest to me, little miss Bottles n’ Cans, and was the only reason why I was bothering to peek into this bag of refuse in the first place. I shall give credit where it is due – she could have chosen worse beer to create her boilermakers. Blue Point does some nice beer, although I infinitely prefer Hoptical Illusion to the two bottles of Summer Ale that she opted to profane with an airplane bottle of Skyy Vodka each. But after all the difference between Hoptical Illusion and Summer Ale well describes the difference between a wild eyed, crazy redheaded ex-Sergeant who survived 9/11 and, well… what?

What kind of a too-frail-to-survive-reality creature is it that needs to wash down her antidepressants with two fuckin’ vodka boilermakers at the tennis court in order to get through her beautiful suburban day?

Is this that American Dream princess that the sexist guy at the bottles n’ cans machine was talking about while he was making fun of me, maybe? The one who gets by on her looks and whose man ensures she doesn’t have to work? Sheeyit, from the looks of this fine dining experience, she needs to work her ass off just to deal with a broken nail!

Folks, when the shit eventually DOES hit the fan, and the rot that these upper class cluetards are allowing through their venal greed and fear to eat away at the rest of our nation eventually DOES come home to them, do you really think such as we will be in trouble? Do you really think these folks are ready for prime time Apocalypse disaster or warfare? Are they even going to have a prayer in hell when the time comes when they have to compete for food and shelter with the poor and the middle class that they have left hanging out to dry for generations?

Is this the American Dream, or the American Induced Coma?

Do people who have everything they want and STILL need to lunch on boilermakers and antidepressants to keep what little reality that can still reach them at bay REALLY DESERVE a future where they remain untouched in their Bubble Zone, while the rest of the country is breaking it’s back for nickels and dimes?

–Thx for the FP, EKH.


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  1. I thought that cute kitty was part of this essay.  Am I dreaming?  Or, being feral, perhaps she escaped.

  2. These people that you speak of are the craven sloths living in their make-believe world (have you ever visited the Town of Palm Beach, in Florida?) based upon an acquisitional life and lifestyle.  Maybe, it’s simply that they can’t even understand their own lives that they need the “drugs” to get them through.

    Yes, of course, those such people will be the least able to cope in times of disaster.  Those who have worked hard, had hard life experiences and good, as well, are, resultantly, must better equipped, phsyically and mentally, to cope, period!

    Those such people cannot relate to what it is to go without, to work very hard to have little, and on and on.

    Thanks for this, randgrithr!  

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