The girls and I met last Saturday for high tea at Marriot and shopping at Tangs (thanks to the Tangs voucher I got from you ;-). It was a highly charged session because we had royal time btiching about our ex acquaintance, Ms SPG whom I shall call the S for simplicity, and also because we had a roaring good time trying out various combinations of nasty lingerie and them poking my boobs (yes, I’m such a victim… *sob).

No I did not take any pictures and sure as hell wouldn’t post them here even if I did… duh.

As for the S, she crashed in with us last year. Being Liz’s friend, we accepted her, even though we didn’t really like her, and being a really non-judgmental group of bitches, we let her hang with us. Because S do not have any other friends, and in a while, you’d know why. Liz, of course, being the sweet pretty little angel she is, never had much of an issue with her. Liz never had much of an issue with anybody, so that don’t really count.

S is a not particularly pretty, not particularly slim, and not particularly curvy woman. She is probably a worst case scenario. Plump (size 10?) with no boobs and no butt. *cue sympathetic look* However! However, she is particularly insistent on trumpeting her angmoh husband as a trophy (ageing rich fart) and flaunting a pseudo European accent as if she has lived abroad all her life, when really, the farthest she has been before her marriage, is Malaysia. I suppose she got the weird combination of assorted accents from the vast assortment of different angmohs she dated before landing the old bird.

So, be it suffice to say that she has none of Cassy’s Audrey Hepburn petite, none of Liz’s angelic prettiness and definitely none of my survivor instincts. She strives mainly like a parasite, living off the fats of her trophy, flaunting the Pradas and Ferragamos of her kill. No opportunity will be wasted to emphasize how “high class” and “presentable” she is. A plankton of the very highest order.

S is the type of woman who cannot afford any designer goods on her sole income if she is to work. She is the type to die if her trophy casts her aside.

I fact, to us, she can absolutely nothing going for her without her ageing farang trophy, and being the unassuming bunch we are, we didn’t lynch her for that.

Until the day she made a mistake by blah-ring to Cassy about my blog entry.

Something to the effect of

“She must have given him a b*** j** or something to get an ex gift like that”

Apparently Ms Sour Grapes SPG with no boobs/ ass/ looks/ intelligence/ literacy couldn’t comprehend my writing. That I have not met or even spoken to B on the phone before. How on earth then could I administer the said treatment?

And of course, my friends being the classy bitches they are, promptly axed her from our exclusivity. No one in our group bitches about each other behind. We do it upfront and forget about it promptly. We have no patience with backstabbing, sniping and stupidity.

And good riddance to toxic. I had quite enough of her pseudo accent to last me a lifetime.

*****

PS: And that bitch Pink had to comment, when I bitched about this to him, that

“Wah, at least now you establish your rate for bj lor… $800
a pop”

BITCH. But I still love you. *giggles*