Why do You hate Hillary Clinton

Ever since I was a little girl; I have been a martini drinking self loathing manic depressive kind chess player with a penchant for conservative politics and the cookies after Baptisms at Brick Church on the Upper East Side;

Alas; whilst I was having my  Adderall Americano at a trendy book shop in Soho where I frequently pretend to work on my screenplay; I mentioned to my dear Ivy League  Republican Rapper Waspy Cuban slash consultant friend my hatred for Hillary Clinton.

I agree with you he said; but Why?

And Alas, my wealthy vapid republican contemporaries, I could not think of an appropriate response other than she looks like my mailman and let a rapist go free; which I actually like about her.

So, I realized a critical moment; I cannot go around preaching my SteelCore Reagan Republican Values if I do not know PRECISELY why;

Ipso facto;  I have created the Rich and Lazy Girls who Smoke at Le Bain and Wear Love Bracelets Guide to Why Hillary Clinton will be terrible for the free world; and so that you too;  can be learn-ED


1. She looks like a mailman
2. Senator Ted Cruz (R) said she was a terrible lay
3.Religious liberty is not her priority
4. She thinks Barry's Bootcamp should stay a Gun Free zone
5. She poorly handled the bombing of the U.S facility in Benghazi with the class of a Stripper from Queens
5. Pharrell endourses her and I am all for black people but I am anxious that her campaign song would be "Happy"
6. The Clinton Global Initiative is worth 72 Billion dollars opening her presidency up for corruption
7. Shes meek and acquiescent
8. First Ladies; like dead bodies, belong in the kitchen. LadyBird Johnson established roadways that have the highest record of DUIS in America Betty Ford is an alcoholic and Dolley Madison tried to get on the twenty dollar bill

October Goals besides cutting down on Sodium and Meth

Go to Rao's with the  Mafia and become dear friends with the Maitre D
Develop a deeper relationship with God
Accidentally send my manuscript to my Boss
Survive on Saw Dust and Salad Nicoise
Have a Halloween Costume that rivals Paris Hilton
Get lightly raped by a Sultan
Update my resume
Improve my Stock Portfolio
Chainsmoke with Menthols
Read the articles in Vogue
Give head to the CEO of Soul Cycle
Find a Mid tier Consultant at Bain to verbally abuse me and then apologize with a Rolex and drinks on the Cape

My Doorman, My Conscious, A walk of Shame in Louboutins.

Alas, as I wandered down the rickety streets of the Meatpacking district and saw a puddle, I took a well regarded look into my reflection and had a vital Mid to Late twenties critical Zoolander Moment; Who Am I?

I do not know, but I know who I am not. After a night spent with a Collegiate Georgetown Graduate with a major in Economics and a minor in Mali at Tiesto, I stumbled into my pied a terre with my beat up chanel bag that I stole from Paris during a power outtage in 2001.
My doorman gave me a judgemental deathstare, similar to one that I had received from my middle school Principal when it was discovered that I made phony calls to the P.E Teacher at Chapin.

"Good Evening"he said, "Or should I say Good Morning", this doorman unlike my other doorman was obnoxious and did not have to make me feel worse for the fact that my one night stand husband material whom I had given a Solid B minus hand job to - to the lyrics of Pompeii by Bastille, did nto invite me to stay for brunch and and adderral.

Judgement should not be given by those who's main purpose is to prevent rapists from entering the building and notifying me that my seamless by Le Bernadin has arrived; and whist we are at it; I prefer no eye contact.

See you at the St. Regis

If you had to choose between Mind Blowing Sex with a B List Musician and Marrying a Billionaire, what bath products would you put in your private jet?

Kiehls

Nazi Cocaine

Father had an acting teacher who was very much in love with him and convinced him to audition for theatre. When he was 17, my father was cast in the off Broadway play This is the Life We Live. The play was about three men in rural Pennsylvania and one of the men’s daughter had been date raped. My father played the date rapist. He received rave reviews and The New York Times called his performance eerily believable . His off Broadway stardom led him to leave Fieldston and enroll in the Professional Children’s school where he could properly manage his acting career slash indulge in party drugs and casually immerse himself in the world of New York City theatre. My father was deep in a superficial way. He could manifest emotions on the stage that he knew would please the people, but ultimately he was like any other 17-year-old, he just wanted to party and get laid. When he applied to Harvard, he invited the head of admissions to see him perform and then took her out for a night-cap after the performance. He had a virgin strawberry daquari and she had a Campari. Ms. Hall was a typical Bostonian with charcoal gray hair that wasn’t brushed. She was married once but her husband had left her recently for the recent French Professor whom they plucked from the American University in Paris. It was a minor scandal in the Harvard Admissions department. They considered sending Madame Van der Beek  back to Paris, but ultimately decided against it when the Boston Globe did a cover piece on her neavaue curriculum of combining neo French Philosophy with French Grammar.  

Nazi Cocaine

Childhood is the root of where personality disorders manifest. My childhood is no different.  It was a rather painful unfunny time, a time full of acne, angst, OCD and the delusion that life is magical. I realized life was hard when I did not get the set of Marbles from King Kullen in East Hampton, initially. But then I threw such a tantrum, that the employees now use my performance as a training video on what to do when a customer throws a scene and starts tearing the toilet paper out of the wrappings in the middle of aisle 4. They gave my nanny the marble set on the condition that we would not return to that King Kullen. I was by no means an enlightened child, an intelligent child, or even a pretty child. I just existed, I went to school, I went through the motions of suffering in the world of excess where too much is never enough. The fact is that I wouldn’t trade any of it. I have no regrets because I never look back, not because of that Eckhart Tolle New Age Spiritual Wealthy Bullshit, but because I have amnesia. But I remember the anecdotes, like the time I successfully shoplifted a 16,000 dollar handbag from Chanel on 57^th street with a KGB like designed plan, a skill I inherited from my mother