07 March 2008

The 'Gucci' Gang. WTF!

The term 'Gucci Gang' has always puzzled me. None of then actually wear the stuff. And why would they? Its not cut for the Asian women. Its a big fashion scam inflicted upon a hyper group of spoiled rotten selfish wanna bee's who believe the ads. None of them would actually pay for 'real' Gucci. Maybe pinch some from a shoot. Borrow some with out asking. Steal it from your boyfriend. And never return it.
Only fools buy Gucci. Its crap. Bench all the way. Its crap too, but at least its affordable and fun crap. Plus the boys who work there are super cute. Go Bench! Fuck Gucci and the group. Fuck em all. I say. Ha!

When I first heard about this group, it was from DJ. I was still working in Australia to keep up with the payment plan he put me on for our two 'business's' in Manila. The restaurant called Bonza we were to open with Celine and Marcel. They were to put in 100,000 dollars. As silent investors. So much for that. In so many ways.

The other was our Travel business which I was to operate on Bora. This would ensure my immigration would be sorted quickly due to my business contributions. I had it all planned. Three years on Boracay, then move to Manila. I had the boyfriend, the plan and money to keep both going for a while.

Delfin loved the Gucci Gang name. They all secretly love it. Collective moisture when they cluster at Martini Bar. You can see them rubbing their thighs together. The can't believe they have made it. He thought he had made it. His objective achieved. Mr. Montano had indeed arrived.
And Celine. WOW. The biggest prize of all. The big Kahuna. A LOPEZ! BIG FUCKING DEAL. Lopez. He was triumphant in his glory though, (cue trumpets and horns). Carpet rolls out. The wretched two. You deserve this Celine. You have no reality in your life. Tell DJ to give me my money. I need it.

Get your finger out of your throat, and get your skinny ass into re- hab! You selfish selfish girl.
You still have time to redeem your self. A few seconds only though, so hurry dear.
Celine lives draped around DJ, always sniffing around his mushroom shaped frame for her next meal... er line. I have seen her lick the back of a toilet seat. No shit. They are both shocking. I was there. I did it a few times. But I always felt strange after. DJ always made me feel insecure.
But now you and the 'concept' of you has worn thin for everyone. Your as popular as your groups moniker is now. Not very. And I am not finished with you yet. You still have my money.
No one individual should feel less then you just because their mother didn't 'luck out' in the baby lottery. Every girl in the Philippines should look away from you as a role model. I would rather my daughter be put in a nunnery, then have any possible exposure to the likes of you and the other monkey's in your G Gang. I can't even say the name anymore.
You still owe me money DJ and I want it.
That money was for my future.

People with HIV have enough to worry about , without having to look over their shoulders, wondering if their boyfriend is stealing their money. We only have so much for our futures. I could get sick.
I don't know what my future has in store for me. But I do know that I have a lot less money to face problems with if need be.
Where is the Christianity in that Delfin? Your mother should be proud. But your mother does not know the real DJ.

You will never be able to afford Tom Ford dear. So I understand why you stole my sun glasses the night at the hotel. You know I coveted them. They were a gift from my mother. She bought them on e bay. From New York. Cried when she gave them to me. Now you have them in your grubby sweaty little digits. Touching the gift from my mother. Infecting them with your touch. I hope they look good on you mate. They looked great on me. Ask my mom.

I have nothing against anyone in Manila society. I just despise the hypocrisy. It turns my stomach.
Before moving to the Philippines, I had never seen before what passes for 'high' society in a third world country. I get it now.

None of you are better then anyone else. A lesson your parents failed to teach you. One lesson among many they skipped.
Grow up you guys, and do some charity work. Look around you at the poverty and sadness. Open your heart Celine, ( cue crow bar), and do some good with your life.
And DJ, I have totally given up on your heart.

Money please.
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