Somehow, the smiling female face on page 1 of the paper today kicks off a sense of crabbiness ... just an amorphous distaste for groups in which, like slenderized divorcees looking for a second chance, there is a gathering of people whose teeth are impeccably straight and, if they're not wearing a single strand of pearls, they might be. Everyone's smiling. Everyone's intentions are good. Everyone has a heartfelt mission hovering over a goblet of medium-to-good wine. They have a mission, a wrong to right and they are smiling in the process ... smiles are attractive in the camera lens.
The crowd eddies gently here and there. Très WASP-y and white, each willing to rub the mental genitalia of the next.
They all have check-books.
God, their teeth are straight!
But what will they do when no one is looking?
Probably more than I will. I'm just a crabby old fuck.