Maybe if it had been Uncle Joey.

Piles of money?
Check.
Money to tape together and wrap up the piles of money?
Check.
Money to shred and use a papier mache to make giant replicas of oneself?
Obvs check.
Dignity?
...............


As I JUUUST got finished saying how i don't even like Sweet Paradise, I read on a gossip site called mollygood.com, that the Olsen twins were there on Sunday.

Lower East Side pub crawlers, who tend to hop from bar to bar on skateboard, were a little surprised to see two black Escalades roll up to Orchard Street dive bar Sweet Paradise at 2 a.m. Sunday. Passing up standard hot spots, Mary-Kate Olsen and her posse slummed it up with some die-hard hipsters.

Ok, that little peice of shit text just made me want to throw up my soul.

I'm gonna be honest.
I'm not sure I care, but part of me wants to get all protective Chinatown and be like, "Ewwwwww no they di'int, they need to take their Hollywood baby Michelle I want some ouwse cream asses back to wherever the rich people drink."

Then I realized something really sad.
Which is that downtown New York is absolutely crawling with rich kids feining struggle and normalcy.
I'm not even going to delve into that topic because my brain will fall out of my skull and I don;t have time to do that kind of clean up.

The Olsens just happen to have EARNED the money that made them so god damn rich.
The rich kids I know (who try to hide being rich typically) never lifted a finger to get that paper, nevermind work EVERY DAY since they were 16 months old.
No wonder they need coke addled nights in shitty bars, they are ragged!
Not only that but they must be so hungry!
Sometimes I just have beer for dinner, and it makes me not hungry and I think thats what they do, only they substitute beer with speed and glasses of room temperature lemon water.
NIGHTMARE.

Anyway.
Who I am to be like Hey go back to where you belong?
Cause last time I checked, I'm from a nice little town on the Jersey shore.
I would imagine plenty of New York folk want to tell me to bridge and tunnel my suburban ass back there.
And I get all defensive and insecure like HEY I LIVE HERE NOW OK? I PAY RENT I TAKE THE F TRAIN I DONT GO TO TIMES SQUARE I EAT ETHNIC FOODS TAKE THAT.
That is how edgy people are about their turf.
Its instant fear about being an insider vs being an outsider.

Imagine how these stupid famous people feel?
Sure, they get whatever they want, but they have to deal with assholes like me blogging about them cause they had the audacity to show up to a bar 4 blocks from my building.


Conclusion:
A) no one "belongs" anywhere and there are probably better things to rant about.
Especially when its over a bar that smells like death and feels like a college drop out basement.
B) I am obviously bitter about rich kids.
C) its too early for this shit.