I have struck gay-gold.
Last week, I appropriated a new hag into my circle of women. Not only is she stylish and sassy (always requirements), but she is loaded. Seriously - this bitch gets $7,000 a month for personal expense NOT including rent, food, and tuition for college. That's $7,000 in shopping money.
This is great because now when I go shopping with her, I can put her in fantastically expensive clothes that she will actually buy. We had a mini-gasm together in Manolo Blahnik earlier today. She bought Dolce instead, but the power-trip is awesome.
She's not Kitty, by any stretch of the imagination... but she's wealthy and a shopaholic. Like those poor shop girls in the mall, I'm just happy that she carries Daddy's plastic.
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Side note: She was going to try to set me up with a gay of hers today. I don't really want to meet him because I'm terrified of him. The guy's a male model and a Mexican heir(ess). I hate the idea of dating someone with money; it's always be an awkward elephant in the room.
I've also been told he's a snob. And he's not out to his parents. Really? Shit - I can't do diva AND closet-case.
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