Friday, August 04, 2006

Fairfield County's Finest

Unbelievable...



The philosphy in words

I'm pretentious, arrogant, and stuck up. There is nothing I care about more than how I look and how I'm dressed. Most of the things I do and they way I act are because I want to fit in. When my ancestors came over to this great country 400 years ago, they had a vision for a utopia, free from minorities, poor people, and immigrants. There are few today who share such lofty ideals, but we're easy to find: Pastel polo shirts, loafers without socks, tucked-in shirts, but most importantly, collars up.

Call me a douchebag. Call me an arrogant little cocksucking dickhead. Beat the shit out of me if I'm not with fifteen of my frat friends (unlikely). But just know this: I interned at Gibson Dunn this summer. Where did you work? A Blockbuster? That's right, I'm going to be your boss. So take your t-shirt wearing, financial aid, blue-collar ass over to Blockbuster and get me a copy of Old School.

Do you even own a tuxedo? Look at my girlfriend. You think she'd go for someone who didn't have his collar up? I don't think so. I remember the night I met her. I bought her so many $9 drinks she couldn't even walk. So I drove her home in my BMW "turbs", but not before I took a few "liberties" with her. The next morning I took her to brunch and then we went to Bloomingdales, where I bought her some blouses. You assholes don't know the first thing about being a gentleman.

You probably don't even know how to sail. When I get out of law school, I'm going to be making $120,000 a year. Add that to my trust fund, and I can buy a country club membership, a ski house, and still have enough money to go barhopping around the city in my designer clothes and shit-eating grin. Maybe I'll offer you a hundred bucks to flip my collar up for me. I earned it; I bet you can't even play squash. You're so predictable. I bet I can guess your political party just by looking at you. My cronies and I range from elitist northern liberals to heartless conservative bastards. I've wasted enough time with you. Get some rich parents, an internship, and a pink polo with the collar up, and then maybe I'll let you hang out with me.

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