STEEL YOURSELF GIRLS! MARRY FOR MONEY! $$$$$$$$$$


Beautiful young women who are dating slime ball disco hunks and are addicted to them like a kid to penny candy, tell me that they are morally offendedat the idea of MARRYING some guy for his money. I am esthetically offended by these beauties dating barjockeys! The following list of women were not the least bit dainty about dating rich men. CLICK on this LIST
>>> OF AMERICAN PHILANTHROPIST WOMEN! They did these miracles with their mates millions, the generous hubby’s BUCKS!! Just flip to it, and then come back to this page. I’ll wait.

 

So, is that amazing or what? All of these gals started something that others gave to. The start-up money was small. The billons they raised were from society at large. High society. So when a gal pouts ‘Me, marry money? How crass!!” After I stop laughing, I answer that marrying RICH is NOT AT ALL like SELLING YOUR SOUL for MONEY. But deliberately marrying POOR when you could save the world with a fifty million dollar capitalization of some do-good planet-supporting business…. is really sick, demented, perverse and cruel. Don’t DO IT! Not if you’re a stunning beauty 18-30 in years, 35, 25, 35 in inches. 150 in IQ.

 

Here is my logic. It is something you will understand because I know that if you had fifty million dollars alimony like ex belly dancer, Mrs. John Kluge, you would do good for the world. Patricia Kluge was married to the richest man in the world. After her divorce, she took her alimony and bought a big grape farm, opened a winery and today, she sells red wine for 500$ a bottle. She doesn’t do much humanitarian good for anyone with that business except a few of her estate’s grape pickers who probably make minimum wage. Pert Patty Kluge could have opened a bank doing micro lending to give entrepreneurs in third world villages the start-up capital or seed money to begin a furniture factory, sewing workshop. 

 

Mrs. Kluge could have opened an international import/export business like the chi-chi UNESCO bazaars, which feed millions of artisans in the third world. She could have created a huge import business that sold fifty tons of 3rd world, hand made goods a day, like PIER ONE or PORTS OF CALL. She could have traveled, bought directly from artisans in the villages of arid Africa, China, Nepal, Afghanistan, India and repaid them with fatter contracts than any other importer gave, as well as sending doctors, clinics, digging deep pure water-wells, seed for crops, as well as all that money. Would have, could have, but Pert Patty didn’t.

 

When young beautiful women get sniffy at the idea of marrying a guy worth billions and tell me they are virtuous, I laugh in their faces. The thing is, there’s no visible proof of anything nearing charisma or humanitarianism coming off them. They’re donkeys in high heels. They have no business smarts, no ambition, and no desire to work. They probably know they’d snore off if they had a billion. Maybe their virtue is their way of keeping them out of sight, under a rock, in a trailer park.

 

But just imagine the hubris, the arrogance. They look down their nose at my suggestion they marry the multi-billionaire I found for them. They are so proud of their virtue when all I can see is a bozo boyfriend whom they're using like a headache pill, whom they’re phoning on their cells ten times a day to check on, whom they’re obsessed with. To me, some old geezer who is leaving her fifty or eighty million seems like it would be a restful vacation! But these girls don’t see it that way


I don’t get it. In every way these girls are on top of it. They exercise until their naked bodies make you bite your knuckles. They get tans, their skins are smooth as silk, and their roots are always done in time, before black shows. They get great streak jobs done so the color looks natural. Their wardrobes are colossal, to die for, everything spic and span. Their shoes are suede after Labor Day, Satin at night, and spotless white in summer. They find Armani suits on sale. WHO CAN DO THAT? That takes brains and a lot of work. There’s ample proof they are major winners. But these sweet peas think dating hunks is virtuous!

 

I tell girls who are this gorgeous and perfect and disciplined that they should walk not run, head for high society and do volunteer charity work. Or at least get a 30-day degree in real estate that does combine so very well with hanging out with the super rich at charity balls. They don’t listen.

 

I tell them that clerking at dress stores will only introduce them to other women and those women see them as rivals and those women think all cute clerks are husband-stealing twist and will never invite them to a single party. I tell them that they may hang around Armanis and Valentinos all day but they aren’t wearing them at night cuz they’re home with a clicker waiting for the greasy ducktail to call in.

 

This calls for remedial action. I then take the poor, demented girl by the hand to the charity ball. Costs me a fortune, but I do it because I know that when they walk through a room knee deep in multi-billionaires, they will instantly see that they cut it! (Cuz maybe they’re just afraid of the big time, of the fast lane.) They instantly see that they have no difficulty attracting about a dozen of the richest, best-educated men in our country. The men are flocking like bees to honey. Even more when you run the charity, which is easy to do. CHARITY STUDIES 101. Click on it, then come back. Mrs. Paul McCartney was a callgirl, then lost her leg, but ran a prosthetic leg charity and that’s how she met and married Beatle Paul and got out of prostitution for good.


A charity allows you to go to the big corporations to pass the hat. Big Corps have Ceos. Once you date one, visit the country club, once you girls have seen the ripe wheat fields, hung with grain, and see that you can be the belle of the ball, and that even older women meeting you under those circumstances respect you, you will change your tune. Look around you, the places you go at night. Pleasant places and I’m glad you love the simple life at the greasy spoon diner, shows the world you’re made of the right stuff, an honest, simple girl but dating those guys, marrying one, with your looks? Wasting a Rolls Royce lady on a Chevie life. Is this what you want? The plain and simple honest life? Doing nothing about the world falling apart.


When I show this other picture to girls who study the “MARRY WELL” material, they nod. I’ve got them. I beg them to at least TRY to be a woman of substance. Try to work for PARA LOS NINOS, a skid row daycare that helps ghetto mothers care for the kids by day so the mothers don’t have to lock them in the closet all day. I tell them there’s a second, hidden benefit of really getting involved in local charities. It is this. Out of sheer gratitude, GOD will be sending that lovely saint of a girl a heart-chakra centered man of great means. 

 

And while you’re being charitable, attending charity balls, selling real estate to the rich if by accident, a lot of bomber jacket cuties crowd around you, this isn’t a deal breaker. Boys are here to make your cheeks really pink so that someone super rich can spot you in a crowd and love you. Just don’t get involved with the BOYS in JEANS --- Not when there are MEN OF MEANS!
 

Going where rich men are and letting yourself be adored for your good character is something that a gentle person does. So if you’re gentle, prove it. Stand still while you ARE loved, adored, bejeweled, shopped for and proposed to. You call that SELLING YOUR SOUL and say you would have difficulty with it? Honey, it is not selling sex because even with a rich man, there’s no sex until after the marriage. Is it selling hugs and kisses? If you think that way, may I remind you to count the kisses, hand squeezes and hugs. Eighty million up to five billion is a damn fair price for those hugs. It is a great price for what you’re already giving away at the Disco. You could put a lot of cribs in Rumania with that money! 

500$ a bottle. So what? You’re rich. PAY IT!


BY THE WAY, after posting this webpage in cyberspace, I learned from a  pal of that lady above that MRS. KLUGE has done enormously generous things for charities in her city, lent her home for benefits and is kindly and concerned about poverty, so let me retrieve my jocular and cruel words -- I’m glad to hear it from a local citizen in her town!. And Mr. Kluge, well I adore him! He funded “THE PACKAGE” a daring TELL THE TRUTH film about the JFK hit starring Tommy Lee Jones, Hackman, Joanna Cassidy, one of the most exciting if not the MOST EXCITING film I’ve ever seen--- about the JFK hit, with a rephrasing of the events to hide all that the writers knew. They hung the hit on an innocent, duped patsy, Lee Harvey Oswald, who in this film was made to seem guilty by the PENTAGON INTELLIGENCE BOZOS when it was just an intricate setup by these spooks to get rid of a PEACENIK PREXY.  The only other film so close to accurate on the JFK HIT was “EXECUTIVE ACTION” with Burt Lancaster which looks at Texas oil men who worked with LBJ on the assassination.


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