In the wake of the Spitzer scandal, all weekend there have been articles in the papers about high-class hookers and the fast and expensive sex-and-champagne lifestyles of the financial wizards, many of them guys in my age bracket, who get to party with the young and beautiful chicks. It really makes me envious, because I can't afford that kind of excitement and adventure...but with my heightened imagination, I can well picture what it would be like...falling asleep after a rambunctious night with a busty blonde cuddled under my right arm, and a sparkling Japanese under my left...or the blonde under my left, and the Japanese under my right...

Ah, why do I complain? I've had my share of thrills. Just not lately...

Not that I would want to spend $4300 on a call girl like Spitzer is alleged to have done. No wonder hooker slang for the wad of cash is "the Brick" at that lofty level of the sleaze world. Oh, did I call it sleazy? It is at EVERY level. That's part of the appeal, the tingle, and any john who denies that is deluding himself...anyway, a smart shopper like yours truly could have a great time for $200. I used to in the past, and I could tomorrow...if I had $200 to blow.

Alas, I brought my tax figures to the accountant last Tuesday, and I have to prepare to borrow on credit to pay my tab to the government as a self-employed freelance worker...

It just irks me to hear about how much money is floating around out there...these rich idiots spending hundreds of dollars for "bottle service" in the hot clubs...and Sir Cranky resents spending $6.50 for a glass of house wine at the Italian joint the other night! It tasted like the whole bottle cost $6.50 retail...or less, wholesale...

Money! Money! Money! Dough! Dough! Dough! The hooker involved in the Spitzer affair is going to make mountains of it, mountains! Just for being in the right wrong place at the right wrong time! And you just sense she's going to get the book deal that every struggling scribe I know is lusting after, waiting for their agents to get back to them with a crumb of good news...but all this girl had to do was spread her thighs and wham! The dough rolls in...true, she's into her music, and it's supposedly not bad, and so she was indeed ready for her moment in the sun...or is it a flashing neon hotel sign that I see in my film noir-loving brain? In any case, her story is still an envy stirrer-upper...

Oh, to have one good solid opportunity to whore myself and make a couple of million!!!