Tag: money

Be Caligula for three easy payments of just $29.98

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latest aristos playing at shepherds fuck entire country

You know what you really don’t want if you live in an impoverished sub-saharan African country? Well, obviously you don’t want flies laying eggs in your eyes or dysentery. One other think you don’t want is asshole famous rich people deciding to have a child there becauses it would be special.

Go find yourself at the Beverly Hills Hotel and let Namibia alone. Or just write a check. Jerks.

The unspeakable lured by the unreadable

I try not to to be too hard on hack writers most of the time. It’s hard to make a living in journalism, and a lot of jobs are at boring and stultifying industry house organs or shilltalk ad rags. These are people who wanted to be ink-stained front page reporters or film critics and they get to write about aluminum foil or fabulous getaway weekends. Sometimes, though, they cross a line. This piece, from a credit card company’s luxury travel magazine, is… well, I’ll pay you a quarter if you read the whole thing straight through. It’s for our local South County seaside resort, and the writers decided that instead of the usual luxury porn template that bored them so, they’d use an alternative literary form for thier puff piece: A film script! Because that’s what they really wanted to do anyway.

THE SCRIPT

Don’t call them trailer trash

In my part of Orange County, affordable housing is rare. One of the disappearing features of the landscape is the trailer park. We used to have quite a few around here but one by one they’re disappearing to be replaced with more familiar suburban things like parking lots and office buildings. The one down the street from me exists solely because the land is owned by a family that is resistant to change and has lots of money already, for example.

Until recently there was a trailer park on the campus of UC Irvine, where my father was charter faculty in 1965. The University, being college administrators, needed a new parking lot, so off it went. But not after some spirited student resistance from ornery and inventive graduate students!

A film has been made of the last days of Irvine Meadows West: http://trailerparkfilm.com/

I recommend seeing the trailer. It’s a bit hippiebongoburningman but gives a good idea of the scene. One of my college friends from the 80s, Maggie Sullivan, was involved in this scene but I don’t see her in the trailer. I mean the movie trailer, not the actual trailers in the movie about trailers.

Only Sheriff Frank Booth Can Save Us Now!

So, you remember the guy who wiped out at 162 mph on PCH in Malibu in an ultra-rare Ferrari? Right. And he turned out to be a Swedish criminal and failed video game entrepreneur? Right. And now it turns out that the guy he was racing, another Swedish criminal, had a house full of illegal guns and was arrested for using a fake cop ID to avoid background checks? Right. And that the fake cop ID was from the San Gabriel Valley Transit Authority, who represent themselves as a Homeland Security police organization because they give rides to old people? Right.

Hey, guess what! These guys have ties to our own Orange County Sheriff! The guy who tried to cover up the gang rape of a 15 year old girl because his buddy’s son did it! The guy who additionally covered up the kid’s crimes during his trial! And, of course, the guy who hands out deputy badges and guns to all the boys in the back room so they can crank off shots at miscellaneous citizens at the golf course or over a parking space! Turns out one of those guns from one of those guys ended up in Big Steve Eriksson’s house, along with the other guns that, as a foreign national and a felon, he’s not allowed to have. Gosh. Mike Carona, what sleaze have you NOT been involved in this year?

Deputy’s Gun Is Latest Twist in Ferrari Crash
The weapon of an O.C. reserve officer is found in a raid at the home of the car’s alleged driver.
By Richard Winton and Christine Hanley
Times Staff Writers

April 26, 2006

Detectives are trying to figure out why a handgun belonging to a reserve deputy for the Orange County Sheriff’s Department was found at the Bel-Air mansion of the former European video game executive accused of crashing a rare Ferrari Enzo in Malibu in February.

Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies confiscated the gun during a raid at the home of Bo Stefan Eriksson, who faces grand theft, embezzlement and DUI charges related to the accident.

Continue reading “Only Sheriff Frank Booth Can Save Us Now!” →

Reposted from a friend’s journal with permission: O.C. Life

Scenes from the class struggle on Pacific Coast Highway, Lady Bountiful:

I was sitting in my car at a busy intersection in Huntington Beach, and a woman pulled up next to me in a giant Escalade. I looked over at her because she was flayling her arms about while she was on one of those “important” cell phone calls one has while in the car. She was blinged from here to eternity, her diamonds almost BLINDED me. Her hair was bleached, her skin was orange, and her sunglasses were Gucci. Fo shizzle.
So anyway, I am looking at this woman and she suddenly opens her car door. Like, at the light, she just opens her door.
I’m thinking, so she’s going to dump out some old water or something?
NO.
Change. I mean, she took the ashtray full of SILVER MONEY and dumped it on the ground and drove away.
MONEY.
ON THE GROUND.
LIKE TRASH.

I’m so glad our boys are over there protecting our Way of Life.

I don’t think “porkulent” is even a proper word.

I’m on call, the system for which I’m responsible blows up and needs restarting about every 2 hours, and it’s not getting fixed any time soon. This is similar to having a baby without the poo but also without the promise of a future. If this goes on all night tonight I am going to be Lieutenant Colonel Grumpy Q. Asshole of the Royal Annoyance Force tomorrow.

I genuinely like prunes. You’re not supposed to, because they’re funny (P sound, associated with shitting and old people). But I really like them.

I saw two Bentley coupés, a Ferrari 612 Scaglietta, a Lamborghini Gallardo, and a Maserati Quattroporte on the road today. The wealth around here is approaching Kuwaiti levels. As a spectator sport it’s fascinating. I saw the larval form of a soccer mom today at Trader Joe’s. She was about 19, probably an OCC or Vanguard student, fake ‘n’ bake tan, very skinny, pants slipping off hips, Hollister sweatshirt. She was purchasing three bottles of tequila, eight avocados, and an energy bar. She left in a late model BMW two-door.

The kids working for minimum at the fast food joint I went to were so genuinely friendly, upbeat, and competent that it broke my heart, after seeing her zoom off into her perfect life.

Would you rather always be right, or always get the truth?

Lionel Hutz meets Sideshow Bob in Rapetown

cavalloDefense lawyer/supervillain/accused bailbond fraudster Joseph Cavallo is included in a lawsuit by the Jane Doe victim in the Haidl Gang-Rape Case. He’s responded as expected; with threats and hints of blackmail. Meanwhile, it’s clear that L.A. Times’ columnist Dana Parsons has completely and permanently disgraced himself with his coverage. I know that columnists are more “personal” in their approach than daily news journalists, but letting your seething misogyny ruin analysis of a gang rape case that highlights the bizarre world of Orange County wealthy teens and reveals corruption and collusion all the way to the top of County government is… lame.

But back to Cavallo. Clearly, if he’s included in this lawsuit, then that little bitch is going to find out what happens when you fuck with Joe Cavallo! Why, he’s going to tell the ENTIRE SCHOOL what a SLUT she is, and she’ll never get to have lunch with the popular girls again! Dude, she was raped with a Snapple bottle and she’s after blood. I don’t think you can do much worse to her now. Go ahead and release your terrible revenge upon the town of Springfield.

Attorney vows SoCal sex assault victim will regret suing him

ASSOCIATED PRESS

1:50 a.m. March 20, 2006

SANTA ANA – The attorney for one of three young men sentenced to prison for the videotaped sexual assault of an unconscious teenage girl vows that the victim and her family will regret naming him as a defendant in a $26 million civil lawsuit.

“They’re going to rue the day they brought me into this case,” said Joseph G. Cavallo, who represented Gregory Haidl, son of a former Orange County assistant sheriff.

Haidl, 20, and co-defendants Keith Spann and Kyle Nachreiner, both 21, were sentenced earlier this month to six years in state prison stemming from the July 2002 incident.

The civil lawsuit filed in December by the victim, now 20, names as defendants her attackers, Cavallo and two defense investigators, John Warren and Shawn Smigel.

The victim, known only as Jane Doe, alleges that Cavallo and the investigators harassed and intimidated her by staking out her Rancho Cucamonga house, improperly obtaining her medical records and revealing her identity, among other things.

“We’re taking these people to task about what they did,” said her attorney, Sheldon Lodmer. “They crossed the line in terms of appropriate legal defense.”

Cavallo said he did nothing wrong. He denied Jane Doe’s claim that investigators screamed out her name at her new school and said they had to stake out her home to serve her parents with court papers.

He characterized the lawsuit as “revenge” and said that during the civil trial, his defense will include bringing up new information about Jane Doe’s past.

“By the time I get done with Jane Doe, the case won’t be worth $10. I know more about Jane Doe than her lawyer and her family,” Cavallo said.

Haidl, Spann and Nachreiner were convicted last year of 15 felony counts for sexually assaulting the then-16-year-old victim with lighted cigarettes, a pool cue, a Snapple bottle and a juice can as she lay nude and unconscious on a pool table at the home of Haidl’s father, who was not present.

During the criminal trial, Cavallo and other defense attorneys portrayed the victim as an emotionally troubled, promiscuous, would-be porn star who faked unconsciousness on the tape.

Lodmer said he anticipated Cavallo would attack his client.

“I’m sure he will use this opportunity, and she’s ready to stand up to it,” Lodmer said.

L’apres midi d’un dorque

Idling at Kéan with Mike (used to have a big black beard Mike) today, I saw a stream of Newport Beach stereotypes including:

  • 85-year-old man with perfectly trimmed white beard parking a brand new $200,000 200mph Porsche Turbo sports car, which I then observed to have an automatic transmission
  • A young woman of classic magazine cover head-turning beauty accompanied by two rich and tough-looking beefy older guys. The three of them were having a business meeting, no doubt about her career. They toasted one another with Bubble-Up. The two guys looked serious the way Mafia guys look serious. She looked depressed, which in someone with her looks comes out as a pouty, puppyish yearning look. She smiled once, revealing 47 very bright white teeth.
  • This woman’s Ghost of Newport Past showed up, too: a 14-year-old future model, all dressed up in fluffy sweater and tight jeans and slightly-too-grownup heels. Same perfect model face. Her mother was identical and 35, with a very hard and focused look to her.
  • An assortment of very large expensive cars with grilles on the front that looked like BIG MONSTER FANG TEETH MOUTHS. Each of these cars was larger than the others. Several very large diesel trucks driven by small, finely-built men in pressed jeans are included in this category.
  • One 80something gentleman all covered in liver spots and combover who was trying to guide in his friend Mike to the place. He kept getting the names of things wrong, and telling Mike that he wanted to meet him at Plums but they had an hour wait “even after I told them who you ARE”. There were at least five of these calls. Two other people showed up to sit with Liver Spots but Mike never showed. His dog, an ancient cocker spaniel named Annie, was doing about as well as he was and kept walking into things like brick walls and trees and then harrumphing.
  • An outrrrrrageously Italian employee of Kéan. This guy was maybe 30 and looked a lot like Antonio Banderas. He was wearing the kind of lacy, frilly shirt that only guys from the Mediterranean can wear. He was slightly sweaty and had a huge 500,000 watt grin and whooshy airy hair that he held back with a headband. I don’t know how he carried it off, but he was every housewife’s dream European waiter/lover. Jean-Luc!