Oh, well; on with the nonsense (I have never really wanted to write the obituary page). And I know everything must be getting better because Baroness Seitzinger invited me to the botanical gardens tomorrow for the cunningly named "Begin with Begonias" lecture. Who comes up with things like this?
If I know her, the baroness probably has some flashy gem to show off, or perhaps a gaudy hat. She's had some other things to show off, too; namely a photo of the genital region of some waiter she picked up. The image is striking, but she reports the face is a bit of a problem; somehow I don't picture that coming into play much. The young man works at one of the most expensive (and good) restaurants in town, so we may have all just found some good seats and service.

Once again I caught that pompous wind bag, Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, acting up at Ye Old Gin Hall. Here she is paying for her cheap glass of pinot grigio at happy hour with a hundred.

And for that reason, Mamie is awarded The Porker, my porcelain tribute to conspicuous consumption, high hair, and a "What depression?" attitude. (I changed the name to be a little more palatable.)