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Sunday, February 23, 2014

Targets Worthy Of The "F" Bomb

Before anyone accuses me of being hopelessly naive, I realize fame and wealth both confer immense privilege. But here in my tiny corner of the blogosphere, I make no apologies for these harsh words to the famous and the wealthy: If you need a new liver or other vital organ, wait your fucking turn. Please. And if you're going to cheat people out of their money to support a lavish lifestyle, pay some of those people back with the money you make selling your fucking memoir. Please.

To avoid having my blog turn up in key word searches with porn etc., I have assiduously avoided using the "f" bomb for almost three years. Then two things recently coincided to convince me it was time to temporarily abandon my previous restraint: 1.) A conversation with a good friend about a famous musician, widely rumored to have jumped to the front of the line when he needed a liver transplant several years ago. 2.) My lingering revulsion since seeing "The Wolf Of Wall Street" as it dawns on me over and over how the reprobate featured in that film is profiting handsomely from his story of materialism and greed run amok.

To all regular or irregular readers offended by my choice of adjective in the first paragraph, I apologize. To anyone stumbling onto my blog for the first time, I'm also sorry; not my style, I promise. To anyone key word searching and finding me instead of what you were looking for, better luck next time.

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