Harvy Levin, Dominatrixes and Making Paper.

My love of all loves who’s gay like the rest of my love of all loves.

Money. Hit it Liza:

Is it just me, or is there never enough money these days?! Unless of course you’re lucky enough to hit the Powerball or work on Wall Street. Even then, with the permeable scent of greed – which is more intoxicating that any other scent including poonani which you can sadly buy with money by “making it rain” as it were, you may not think you have enough. Money, I’m discovering is in the eye and mind of its beholder. Everything is relative from the top of the coin-chain to the bottom. Whether you eat steak for breakfast or Kibble and Bits for lunch – everything revolves around paper.

Currently I’m teetering atop of cliff of mountainous debt. Do I jump off? Fall into the black hole of bankruptcy? Sadly, I don’t qualify – my debt isn’t big enough. But what is big? $10,000? $20,000? $30,000? That’s not including student loans, of course. Those things. Really. College is such a rip-off unless you have a degree. Which I don’t because I was dumb and too distracted by the lights of fashion’s broadway to finish my education. A word of advice: stay in school. Otherwise that glorified fashion job you’re dreaming about will begin and end at JC Penny’s. No offense JCP. Love ya’ll but let’s be real with ourselves. There’s Marc Jacobs and then there’s nothing. Not to say you having nothing you just have nothing like Marc Jacobs.

You know for all this political talk of freedom and independence – we judge ourselves in a socialistic way. And what that mark of Karl Marx you ask? Credit scores.  After all, if you’re credit score is below par, you may not get a job, apartment, car or life. In other words, go build a tent in the woods and kiss your dreams of Ritz-Carlton goodbye. You’re done kid. Through. Although living in Prescott with a bunch of hippies who actually do build tents in the woods – has taught a valuable lesson: it will be a cold day in hell before I build a tent in the woods and live like a hippie. This Lady like her Ritz-Carlton, thankyouverymuch.

Obviously I’m not one to hand off financial advice. I’m writing this to bitch about money and how I don’t have enough. Awhile ago, I relayed my money whoas to a friend who said – in a joking manner of course – that I should become a dominatrix: “You’re a strong woman,” he said, “you’d be perfect.”

Strong as in loud and dominating as in….leathery? I guess being strong and loud gets you a whip, chain and a man with a ball in his mouth. What about being a lawyer? They’re strong and loud. They make money too. Although word on the street is that kids with law degree are hard up to find work these day. What! The horror of it all. That explains why people are suing over contracting herpes from each other. Right, Chris?

Speaking of herpes, that man with a ball in his mouth is high on Viagra and coming for your vagina. He’s also a lawyer because word on the street is that they are the kinkiest people alive. Personally I’m in love with one. His name is Harvey-steal-my-heart-Levin. I’m serious. Give me a People’s Court beat because my verdict is in and ready for some TMZ. I know he’s gay….what else is new? He can get in the back of the line with the rest of my gay husbands.

Like we say at the end of all Debtor’s Anonymous meetings, thanks for letting me share….my wallet.

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