The Poor Get Poorer, the Rich Get Kardashian

Q: How many narcissists does it take to sew Kim Kardashian into Marilyn’s “Happy Birthday, Mister President” dress?

A: That’s weird… I could have sworn I heard the sound… of someone else’s…. voice…?

Ukraine? What war in Ukraine? That’s sooooo last week! Our attention spans, like our imaginations, have shrunk like boiled mohair and we’ve moved on, Murgatroyd McGraw! Tell us, I dare you, tell us why we should spend more than the allotted two days of light-to-moderate concern on some dinky quasi-conflict with no oil, no shock and awe, and, adding insult to injury, all the bloodshed off camera!

Gimme something to work with, can’t ya? What’s the angle, here, the payoff, the claim to fame that’s mainly in Ukraine?

Smocked blouses spring to mind, very Von Trapp Family Singers, but any item of clothing documenting the tragic history of your people in cross-stitch is hard to carry off at the best of times. Pair these with shoes that don’t just require, but are actually made of, socks, and we’re talking a small fortune, especially if you take them to an ethnic cleansing specialist once a year, as Diana Vreeland would certainly have advised.

Then there’s ethnic dancing, which is just one big thing. All ethnic dancing is just exactly like all the other ethnic dancing, its goal…