Millionaire GoldDigger Matchmaker!

Ok.

So, I understand some guys are rich, like rich enough to be called millionaires. Great. Why any of them would actually use the 'Millionaire Matchmaker' service is beyond me. I mean, women can smell money, and few things are more attractive to them than money, right? Yes, of course they love money (even if they deny it). It represents power, freedom, indepedence from a crushing 9-5, freedom from oppressive bosses and few worries about paying the gas bill.

So, why on Earth would some guy put the Golddiggers™ of the world on notice that he's ready to be fleeced? Maybe the women who sign up to meet millionaires through this service are just looking for a true love, you know, the simple life where important needs are met.

This suit is NOT black.

Like zombies slowly convening on their prey, these gold-diggers close in on their targets, brushing aside red-flags to hopefully develop genuine feelings for a rich guy. Makes sense right? Why fall in love with a poor guy if you can work toward the lap of luxury, get on MTV's 'Cribs' with your front-and-faced energy drinks or better yet, start your own clothing line (along with all the other housewives who married rich and suddenly became fashion-designers).

To make it worse, the emasculating Chrissy Somers lookalike biatch that runs the service is telling these guys, accomplished millionaires, how to date? We're not just talking ideas, we're talking about specific instructions about where to go, what to talk about (or not talk about) and when to start laying out the bucks for 'nice' dinners?

Here's an idea, just match me up with a gold-digger and shut the fuck up! These guys can do their own talking, after all, they made a million bucks before they met you, right? How the fuck are these guys supposed to find out how wack-a-doo these chicks are without actually discussing anything important, like religion or politics? What, is the guy supposed to be engaged with a caterer hired before he's allowed to find out the airhead he's dating practices Santeria, has a knitting-bee social with psychic ghost-hunters or likes to protest abortion clinics on weekends while listening to Rush Limbaugh podcasts?

If I were one of these rich dudes and single, I'd be stealth-rich. Walk around like a poor bastard in some beaten-down Datsun B210 straight outta 1975, wearing an old pink Izod (collar up LOL) and rockin' Tiffany's 'I think we're alone now' on my stereo cassette player as I pull up. Maybe even a Flock-of-Seagulls hair-do to top it all off. Let's see how far they 'run....run so far awayyyy'.

I figure that would be a good filter....better than two bitches on my jock coz I made some money. Forget Millionaire Matchmaker.

How about Thousandaire Matchmaker? Might be more interesting.


-dB-