America the Inscrutable

I am done with America. I must get out of here; morality calls for a coup or abandonment.

Watch this:


Fuck you, George W. Bush. And your daddy, too.

I apologize to non-American persons on the planet for this ongoing atrocity. I did not vote for this dipshit, or his hideous regime. Frankly, I wish he would get violently ass raped by an angry mob of VD-infected serial murderers during the State of the Union address on live national television. And then stabbed until he's dead.

To all of you "Americans" who proudly followed the herd and voted this fucktard into office, I hope you're at the top of the next tower they fly into, and that you stay alive long enough to burn on your way down to the ground.

Unbelievable.

The New Seven Wonders

Above is a picture of the pyramids of Giza, the last remaining of the Seven Wonders of the (Ancient) World. Still pretty breathtaking, if you ask me.

Now a search is underway for the NEXT Seven Wonders of the World. Presumably Sterculian Rhetoric's thesaurus just missed the cut.

Here are the nominees (pictured are ones I think deserve consideration):

(1) Coliseum, Italy - Sure, half of it has fallen in. This damn thing held 50,000 people!!!!

(2) Taj Mahal, India - Gee, it's WHITE. Next.

(3) Timbuktu, Mali - Yawn.

(4) Great Wall, China - Can be seen from SPACE. Instant entry on this list.

(5) Pyramid of Chichen Itza, Mexico - Maybe. It might be number seven...I can't decide. I mean, it's in MEXICO.

(6) Kiyomizu Temple, Japan - No paper castles can make the list. The waterfalls are cool, though.

(7) Angkor, Cambodia - It's almost a SWAMP, for God's sake. When these people learn to read and write, then we'll make THAT a seventh wonder.

(8) Eiffel Tower, France - The world's prettiest artificial phallus.

(9) Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany - Nominate Auschwitz before THIS. It inspired Sleeping Beauty Castle in Disneyworld. Nuff said.

(10) Sydney Opera House, Australia- It looks like some sort of bug. Interesting architecture, but a SEVEN WONDER? The only amazing thing about the place is the fact that anybody goes there and listens to opera.

(11) Hagia Sophia, Turkey - It sounds more like a Scottish dish than a Seven Wonder. It's just like the Taj Mahal. Nominate THAT instead of this.

(12) Machu Picchu, Peru - I thought this was a board game. This might make it because it stands into the clouds at 8000 feet above sea level.

(13) Stonehenge, Britain - The world's first Lego set. What were they thinking?

(14) Petra, Jordan - Cool church built right into a mountain. You've seen it in dozens of movies masquerading as an alien building.

(15) Alhambra, Spain - An overrated villa.

(16) Christ the Redeemer, Brazil - Statue as comment on global religious fascism. Pretty amazing, though.

(17) Acropolis, Greece - Iconic.

(18) Easter Island, Chile - Everybody likes a giant dose of head.

(19) Statue of Liberty, USA - Probably the best known symbol in the world. I really like America's decision to incorporate burning twin buildings behind it, to really emphasize freedom.I am surprised that the St. Louis Arch was not among the nominees due to its unique and complicated design. Maybe I'm just prejudiced. I just think it's telling that most of the wonders nominated are hundreds or thousands of years old already. We think we have such a progressive society, but in reality we haven't accomplished too much more (architecturally) than our ancestors.

What do you think? What would be your choices for Seven Wonders of the World?

P.S. Please do not say "my cock," or in the case of Scorpio, "my cunt." You probably do not have the most impressive genitalia for your household, let alone gender or planet.

God Bless Our Troops

We Americans are the good guys. Just remember that.

We went over to Iraq and deposed Saddam Hussein, freeing the Iraqi people from the cruel conditions of his reign. Then we installed a democracy, one modeled after our own beacon of sweet, sweet freedom right here in the good ol' U.S. of A. We have spent BILLIONS of dollars, hundreds of lives, and the patience of the human race to make this all-consuming goal a reality.

And yet the world hates us:

I wonder why...taunting kids with water when they are lacking the basic necessities of life - because of us - should instill love and admiration, should it not?

One sad someday this country will learn the hard way.

Discothechno

Say what you want about Madonna - like a hardy cockroach, she continues to thrive. She may very well be the Patient Zero of the current wasting disease of music that I have been bitching about recently, but who cares. She has more intelligence in her pubis than Fergie has in one well-defined leg, and more than Lindsay Lohan's family tree dating back to the landing at Plymouth Rock.

Here is a clip from Madonna's "Confessions" world tour in support of her disco album "Confessions on a Dance Floor." Notice the brilliant riff from "Disco Inferno" she incorporates into her song "Music," accompanied by a dance routine that not only mimics "Saturday Night Fever," but also the original "Airplane" spoof of that film.

Sure, she has been rudely relegated to the scrap pile. How unfortunate. Madonna still has something to say, even if it's something as vapid as : "Let's boogie."

Let's indeed.

Fountains of Pretension

I have two friends, an older couple, who lost their son in a car accident when he was 18 years old. I never knew him personally. However, I did come to know him through the experiences of my friends. Whenever I would visit, they would pull out scrapbooks of their son's childish drawings, or an essay he wrote, or a letter he composed while on vacation. Their memories, still fresh for them, they related to me in an effort to help me understand THEIR LOSS. And while I learned about the kid through them, his memory and his life do not impact me emotionally. I UNDERSTAND their grieving, and out of my love for them I support them, but I cannot ever relate to their son and his life in any way other than the abstract.

Such is the ultimate undoing of "The Fountain," the newest creation of film festival favorite Darren Aronofsky. The film, primarily concerning a scientist named Thomas Creo (Hugh Jackman) and his attempts to cure his wife Izzy's (Rachel Weitz) inoperable brain tumor, leaps through three separate stories set in radically different time periods. Besides the present day Thomas and his frantic race against his wife's death, we see a 15th century conquistador named Tomas (Jackman again) searching for the Tree of Life, as well as a bald astronaut named Tom (Jackman yet again) floating through space to rendezvous with a nebula in a far away galaxy.

Aronofsky has Big Ideas he wishes to present to us, replete with fancy editing and camera tricks to EMPHASIZE the importance of his message. Unfortunately Aronofsky, obviously overcome with infatuation for this message, falls victim to the same trap as my friends: these ideas appeal to Aronofsky in his mind, but in trying to relate those ideas to a paying audience, he presents images and words as proof of these ideas without making us care one way or another.

Early press compared the film to "2001," and stylistically and tonally there are tremendous similarities. However, "2001" tackled scientific ideas of evolution, invention, destruction, and rebirth, so its cold, calculated tone underscores the message. "The Fountain," however, tackles loss, death, and love - topics that need to be FELT, not pondered over - and so the cold calculation of the execution severely undermines the story. Jackman and Weitz strike pretty, "important" poses as doctor and patient, but in reality this is nothing more than eighties movie of the week stuff. Yes, we have it all: the gasping pauses and the tears whenever anyone says "die" around the wife; the somehow unblemished, radiant, and wise dying cancer patient; the distraught, powerless husband angrily throwing things and then collapsing into a crying fit on the floor; the wife slipping away silently just as the cure for her condition is found. Turgid, turgid stuff. Even Lifetime doesn't make them like this anymore.

Without anything in the film to emotionally connect with as an audience, we are left to ponder the symbolism and the Big Ideas. Certainly Aronofsky has worked out a complex diagram for his Ideas. Unfortunately, the basic premise of the movie - death leads to rebirth, leading to eternal life - isn't really as smart or as complex as Aronofsky believes. The movie itself attests to its own self-importance, with its glacial pace and funereal, somber tone; it wouldn't have been any more obvious if, during the movie, Aronofsky himself appeared onscreen and said, "Pay attention. This is really important."

While Aronofsky, during the editing phase, should have realized how ponderous and pretentious this high school thesis/film seemed, his direction is quite interesting. The film's strong point comes from the cinematography by Matthew Libatique; there may not be a more beautiful looking film in 2006.

Ultimately, "The Fountain" provides lots of eye candy and little else. By creating a film without real characters and situations, and loading it with pretentious Big Ideas, the water in Aronofsky's "The Fountain" proves to be shallow and cold, indeed.

Butchers of Music - Part I

Read the companion piece to this blog entry here.

I swear to you that music continues to sink into an impenetrable morass of stupidity and incompetence. I almost dread the next song on the radio; my brain cells huddle together like a herd of elk after sniffing the scent of lions on the breeze.

I cannot take this lobotomized assault on an art form that actually inspired changes in the political and social landscapes just a few short years ago.

The latest criminal: FERGIE

The former "singer" for Black Eyed Peas has apparently decided to conduct tests to see how many CD's her breast implants can sell to masturbatory boys and cheerleaders. If only she would have let her breast implants write the songs and perform them, then she might not have made this dubious list.

Try, if you can, to stomach this "song," which happens to be the musical equivalent of ASS:

For those of you who were unable to fathom the mind-bending, life-altering, cosmologically-important lyrics contained in the "chorus," I reprint them here with kind permission:

"How come every time you come around my London, London Bridge wanna go down? Like London, London, London - wanna go down like - London, London, London."

Ah, yes. Thank you, Fergie, for continuing the pedigree of songwriting craft handed down to you and you alone from the greats of yesteryear. I have no doubt that somewhere Maya Angelou is wrapping up her poet laureate award and sending it to you, her head hung in shame. Your brilliant words, timeless and untouchable, humiliate the efforts of all who have come before you. John Lennon and Kurt Cobain are probably glad they're dead, and therefore spared the agony of trying to top you.

One question - what the fuck does any of that shit MEAN?? And why, oh why, do you speak these lyrics in a "song" on the radio which contains no MUSIC?? Drum patterns are NOT MUSIC!! Figure it out, you dumb bitch!!
In order to to really set my stomach on edge, here is Fergie's latest shit-covered spear of a song, which she is currently thrusting lustily into the gut of music:


Please note that the chorus of this song consists entirely of a black man spelling the word "delicious." Fascinating.

Oh yeah, and also note that this song also contains NO MUSIC. Drum patterns are NOT MUSIC.

Ugh. Patsy Cline flies into a mountain and dies. Mama Cass gags on a ham sandwich. Hendrix and Morrison overdose. Even goddamn Elvis gained 600 pounds and dropped dead on the shitter. And yet, Fergie lives on and on.

Time to load a gun.

Nigger

Well, that pesky "n-word" made a spectacular, vomitorious appearance on this blog over the weekend during a nice little discussion about O.J. Simpson and his dumb-ass nigger jury. I'd like to thank Webpirate for losing his head inside of an oversized Klan hood. Woozie helped him find it, and then convincingly punted it into the endzone. Fun stuff!

Race relations obviously continue to struggle along. Not only did it get ugly here, but over the weekend Michael Richards - Kramer on "Seinfeld" - went into a tailspin onstage, abandoning his comedy act to hurl hateful and occasionally bizarre racist slurs at two black men who heckled him. Of course, thanks to the digital age, the entire debacle was recorded for our enjoyment:
Woooooo ... nice meltdown.

Of course, we do not know exactly what the hecklers initially said to set Richards off. The hecklers can be heard calling Richards a "cracker-ass motherfucker," a racial term for which they will never need to apologize. Regardless of what they said to initiate the outburst, however, Richards was obviously wrong to use a public forum in such an ugly way.

We have a long way to go.

Juice Fasting

Shortly before midnight on June 12, 1994, ex-football player O.J. Simpson crept into the yard of his ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and murdered her and her male companion, Ron Goldman. Here is the crime scene photo of Nicole, a black bar covering her almost completely severed neck:
Of course, that was not the verdict handed down by the predominantly black jury in the sensational, dramatic trial that engulfed the nation over a year later. Make no mistake - this was a trial about racism as much as it was about murder. Notice the reactions of people as the verdict is read: white people - shock. Black people - jubilation.

Also notice Matt Lauer, in his youthful pre-"Today" job as a local anchorman.

Now, O.J. Simpson has a book coming out entitled "If I Did It, Here's How It Happened," which is being touted as Simpson's "confession" of the crimes. And so the media circus begins again...

Some of you might be too young to know much - if anything - about this case. I watched it unfold live on national television on Friday June 17, 1994. My friends and I were watching a Cardinals game when suddenly the news broke in to show a white Ford Bronco driving down a highway in Los Angeles, followed by a battalion of police cars. Inside the Bronco was driver Al Cowlings, a long-time OJ friend, and OJ himself, holed up in the back with a gun, $8,000 in cash, and a disguise - surely the tactics of an innocent man. At this point, the murders were primarily a local case in Los Angeles, and not much had been made in the media about O.J.'s possible involvement, so we were taken by surprise when this happened. From that moment on, we were hooked.

The "Trial of the Century" ensued, and anyone not familiar with the particulars of this trial should spend some time examining it. I recommend www.crimelibrary.com for extensive information about this and other notorious and sensational crimes throughout history.

The trial stands as a masterwork of chess-like structure and deception. Two long-standing rules were upheld in this trial:

(1) Never overestimate the intelligence of the jury. The trial hinged on painstaking DNA testing and hair samples, all of which pointed directly to O.J. Simpson. Lead prosecuting attorney Marcia Clark, tense and mannish with her tightly-curled hair, tried gamely to tiptoe the jury through this heavy evidence. In the end, it only confused the jury, whose eyes glazed over faster than a Krispy Kreme donut.

(2) When in doubt, focus on hate. Lead defense attorney Johnnie Cochran, faced with almost insurmountable evidence that the smirking black man sitting next to him was a multiple murderer, played the only card guaranteed to sway a jury comprised mostly of black people in Los Angeles: RACE. And that card WORKED. Unfortunately all of those dumb niggers - oh yes, they are because THEY were the ones that felt it was about race in the first place - not only let O.J Simpson go free of these crimes, but they also supported him afterwards.

And wouldn't ya know? All of those dumb niggers are WRONG.

Now O.J. is thumbing his nose not only at the families of the Browns and the Goldmans, who lost their loved ones, but also at all of the dumb niggers who supported him through the trial and afterwards. Now he publishes a book, guaranteed to earn him millions of unearned dollars, in which he confesses to brutally murdering those two beautiful, flawed young people.

Johnnie Cochran, orchestrator of this racial fiasco back in 1994/1995, is thankfully dead. However, many of the idiotic jurors from that trial still walk the earth, hopefully with their heads hanging lower than Nicole's the night of her murder. They should all be strung up from the nearest tree, like in dem good ol' days.

If anyone in the Brown or Goldman families had any balls whatsoever, they would have put that murderer Simpson in the cold, hard ground by now, sparing us from this shocking book. Perhaps now that he has 'fessed up to the crime, someone will execute him, Juice-style.

Good riddance!

Burning Bush

I cannot imagine being George Bush. How does he go around every day, trying to appear conscious and alert, while every single person on Earth despises him??

Bush-bashing has nearly become an Olympic sport. If that were the case, then the editor of this video should win a silver, if not a gold...

"And tonight I have a message for the people of Iraq: Go home and die."

Motherfucking BRILLIANT!!!!!

Suffering More "Fitz"

If you want to know what the hell this entire extravaganza is all about, CLICK HERE for more information and the title sequence.

We cut together two trailers using our animatic material. We just wanted to see what a couple of trailers might look like for a project this bizarre and unwieldy.

TRAILER #1

We wanted to create a teaser trailer for "Fitz" in order to play with some of the timing. We spoofed the famous teaser trailer for "Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace" because it made us laugh. Why else?

Here it is:

TRAILER #2

We then created a second, longer trailer with actual situations and dialogue from the film. The trailer focuses on Crotchrot, the disgusting, mutated blob discharged from the pussy of a checker named Carrie during an ill-timed quief. The government steps in, and Fitz, Big Don, and Stumpy are called in to clean up the mess.

Here it is:

Yeah, pretty tasteless...but what exactly did you expect from me? A cute children's television show?

Oh, I did one of those also...I'll save that for another post.

Tee hee hee...

Things I Loved About My Childhood - Part I

They simply do not make cool children's television anymore.

Every Saturday morning I awoke around 6 a.m., made a bowl of cereal, and scampered downstairs to watch television until noon. It was the only block of time I ever devoted to television; the rest of my time I played outside. But those six hours of television...ahhh...nothing like it.

Back then, kids actually had television made from equal parts of imagination and heavy drug use. It resulted in some bizarre television.

Let's see... you had a boy with a magic flute who ends up on Living Island, protected by a giant dragon/policeman and pursued relentlessly by an overly made-up disco bitch named Witchiepoo...

I am, of course, referring to "H.R. Pufnstuf." Just look at that picture and tell me that you don't immediately think DRUGS.

And then there was the show about a boy who befriends a piece of seaweed and takes it home to live with him in his treehouse...

This one, of course, was called "Sigmund and the Sea Monsters."

But the spaciest show of all might be "Land of the Lost." Sure, it had totally cheeseball production values, horrid acting, and crappy sets; that's what made it SO DAMN GREAT. The show had the scariest villains ever for children's television: the evil, reptilian Sleestak...

The show revolved around - well, let's just play the damn theme song...

Ahhh...those wonderful yesterdays when children's television existed to ENTERTAIN kids, not (A) try to teach them boring life lessons or Spanish, or (B) try to sell them a fucking toy. If these shows did anything , it caused kids to use their imaginations and exercised their ability to fantasize and create wondrous new worlds and open up exciting possibilities.

Somebody needs to make shows like these again. Hmmmm... looks like another project!!

American Revolution - Part II

Liberals are dancing in the streets of America today, shouting in ecstasy over their meager yet decisive victory in Tuesday's election against the Republican axis of evil.

I just don't get it.

How quickly people forget the ineptitude of Democratically-controlled governments. Bill Clinton? Intelligent, to be sure, but unwilling to take the bold steps and morally...well, haven't the jokes been made already? Think, people!! Has there ever been a look on a man's face that more closely resembled a question mark than the one Jimmy Carter sported during his Presidency? Can you say RECESSION? Can you say TERRORISM? Both of these wondrous terms fit nicely on the heads of the last two Democratically-controlled White Houses.

Frankly, these criticisms can apply equally to Republican governments. And that, my friends, is my point. NEITHER PARTY is the answer!!

Anyone with a keen eye and a manageable intellect can see the immobility of the current system of government in the United States. The two party system chokes the promise of America with squabbling and agenda. No longer can we have an Abraham Lincoln in the White House, gamely attempting to unify a fractured country with heartfelt logic and a strong moral backbone. If Lincoln existed today, more ink would spill over his sleeping arrangements with men rather than his Gettysburg Address. And, more importantly, Lincoln would be unable to get anything productive done in this environment, where his actions must appease his party's fortunes in the next election, rather than make decisions to benefit his people: the common citizens.

America has become an ugly place where people turn a blind eye to the suffering of others, yet expect their own suffering to gain national attention. A place where actual issues are swept aside for the sensational and the trivial. A place where liars and thieves and backstabbing leeches make profits on the grinding corpses of the common man. A place where freedom has a dollar amount attached to it. A place where those that govern serve not the people, but are served and grow fat off of the people. It is a cold, fractious, hollow place.

The wholesale corruption within all three branches of government, which were originally designed to check and balance one another, continues to shock. The stunning election fraud in 2000. The absolute lies forged in order to invade Iraq. Clinton pardoning everyone except me before he left office. Enron. Whitewater. Iran-Contra. The JFK assassination. In other countries, such behavior by a group of elected officials would be met with a coup d etat. Not here in America. Instead, we have partisan bickering and media sniping, followed by a puppet commission to assess the situation and pardon everyone. The sole benefit of such machinations is to preserve the power of America's leadership, Republican or Democrat. The power left the hands of the People a long, long time ago. Instead, they need to have a majority vote in order to give themselves a raise in minimum wage to a whopping $6.50 an hour! I wonder what the representatives of "the People" make an hour, and I wonder if they need to jump through a bunch of hoops to get a raise in their hourly wage. Hmmmm...

The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution are two of the greatest documents ever written about governmental theory, penned by thoughtful men who wanted to craft something unique and - gasp - noble. Unfortunately, these men also saw that such a government, so promising on paper, might eventually not function properly "for the People." Notice this dire warning, written into the Declaration of Independence in 1776 and much more relevant today:

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all
experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such
Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security."

The time has come when Americans need to face a sobering reality: the government no longer works for them; instead, it works them over. Their votes, each individual one of insignificant size, have altogether become irrelevant in the face of electoral college frauds and the policies of those elected to lead who steadfastly refuse to heed what the People have commanded in those votes.

In 1776, men of courage broke away from the bonds of a corrupt and greedy form of government that had enslaved them. For many of those men, it took more than courage - it took their very lives.

The articles that founded this country themselves cry out for revolution under these circumstances. Who today will be the ones to take up a stand against tyranny?

We need another American Revolution.

Rubber Johnny

In 2005, one of the more disturbing videos of recent times exploded out of the mind of Chris Cunningham, a visionary director of music videos. It's called "Rubber Johnny."

Here is the official description:

"Johnny is a hyperactive, shape-shifting mutant child, kept locked away in a basement. With only his feverish imagination and his terrified dog for company, he finds ways to amuse himself in the dark."

Um, yeah. Here's the clip:


Yikes.

"Fitz" Title Sequence

I have continued my practice of attempting 2,594 projects at the same time, and accomplishing none of them.

One of the projects near to my heart is "Fitz." I completed the screenplay with one of my partners, Chris Daniel, in 2005. We searched fruitlessly for animation companies to tackle the animation for us. The lowest estimate came from a Flash animation facility, which gave us a bid of around $100,000 for limited animation and little lip synch. Others estimated the costs to be in the several hundred thousand dollars. Yes, I know it's relatively cheap, but none of the companies offered what we really thought the project needed.

So we decided to do the damn thing ourselves.

Well, sort of. Our solution involved creating rougher animatics of scenes, utilizing my own brand of haphazard, slapdash Flash animation, in order to get a sense of timing and style to the movie. While I can certainly tackle graphic arts and handle character design fairly well, I DO NOT have the patience for full-fledged animation (see above). Still, I think it turned out okay.

The story involves three retards named Fitz, Stumpy, and Big Don. Yes, they are actually retarded. They live in a retard orphanage named "Churchill's Downs." The caretaker, Churchill, farms out his retards to local businesses in order to collect their paychecks, and the businesses, in turn, receive tax credits. The three retards get into a series of misadventures, desperately attempting to grasp the meanings of some of life's more disturbing oddities, such as quiefs, condoms, and retard sex. Despite all of the obstacles thrown in their way, the three (lovable, mostly) retards manage to overcome all odds and become unlikely heroes.

Suffice it to say that "Fitz" is not "Saturday matinee with the kids" material. It's a hard R-rated movie, filled to the brim with sex, foul language, and non-PC ideals.

Here is the rough cut of the title sequence to "Fitz."

Ugh ... I need a new project, or several million to finish this one.

Got Lymphoma?

About eight months ago I stopped drinking cow's milk in favor of rice milk. This was triggered by a report linking the Monsanto-produced bovine growth hormone to a 300% rise in lymphatic cancers since 1995, the year they began injecting cows with this hormone.

Of course, rice milk tastes somewhat similar to skim milk, but it is not nearly as good to someone like me who regularly consumed GALLONS of milk per week. Gradually I adjusted to the taste, but I never liked the astronomical cost. A quart (32 oz.) of rice milk costs $2.49 here in St. Louis, as opposed to $2.60 for a gallon (128 oz.) of skim milk.

Last week I was feeling budget conscious, so I bought a gallon of cow's milk. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I began drinking it, I got sick and the lymph nodes in my neck became swollen and painful. At first, I just thought I was sick (and perhaps I was). But after considering it, I decided to stop drinking the milk and go back to rice milk.

Wanna guess what happened?? Immediately, my lymph nodes felt better and I started recovering.

This reminds me of all the secret genetic testing the damn government did on innocent people in past decades, only to cause them harm in later life.

GET OUT OF MY CEREAL, GEORGE W. BUSH!!!

A Valuable Girl

No words. Just watch:

Not that I could give her a run for her money, but where oh where is this girl???

I love the reactions of the two girls seated on either side of her. They clap respectfully, but deep down they envy her. CATFIGHT!!