The Eighth Page

Accolades & Escalades

Jack Handy once said, “I’d rather be rich than stupid.” Snoop Dogg once said that he would like to roll down the street doing [something the copy editors took out] and sippin’ on [another something the copy editors took out] mixed with juice. Keeping these pearls of wisdom in mind, Sarah and I decided to live it up over break instead of, I don’t know, something else (or pretending that we had an endless stream of cash that we found in unmarked suitcases in the airports when we were traveling). It was a tough decision. Unfortunately, Sarah and I live 500 miles apart. So, early in December, after I had lived it up in my Gucci linen with an enormous tub of money-flavahed caviar, countless bottles of chilled Cristal, my Moto, and, you know, some hotties (HOLLA!), I rode in my golf cart through my estate to my “lot.” I decided on the red, love-colored Bentley convertible over the Escalade truck. I hitched up the money-colored U-Haul, stuffed with my Louis Vuittons, and dropped one on I-95. I drove until my fingers bled. So when I got to Connecticut, I hired a driver and was able to refill on Cristal legally this time. And we stopped off under the golden arches (HOLLA!) and I got a Number 5, and my driver got nuthin’ because he wanted an extra value meal and I thought that was selfish and he should really learn his lesson. [Editor’s Note: What lesson is that, Lizzy? Maybe a****] Then I partied like P. Diddy and slept like Snoop Dogg, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind, and I woke up in Chicago. I picked Sarah up and she stuffed herrrr accolades in the back, and kicked the driver out because Sarah can drive legally (she is fifteen and a half and could have her permit if she actually took the time to get it.) We decide to get on LSD, you know Lake Shore Drive. We don’t do that LSD stuff or crack for that matter, for in the words of Whitney Houston, “Crack is too cheap.” And we’re not!!!!!!! We just like attention because we are, after all, Lower girls! So we turned on “Bad Boyz Fo Life” and rolled down to Atlanta where the playaz (us) play. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find the playazzzz, so we opened our own restaurant called ChiBo, pronounced Ch-eye beau (like Beau Frrrrrrrreknasty ’05) due to the recent success of Britney Spears’s restaurant NyLa. You know how we do. Billy Blanks was at the star- studded opening of the event (say the restaurant name out loud.) Unfortunately, the restaurant was closed down a week later because we stole all the money and used it to buy more accolades ‘n’ Escalades cause we husslas baby…..just want ya to know. In conclusion, we are attention-cravin’ school-hatin’ noise-makin’ money-lovin’ ballas. We’re just tryin’ to make a dolla out of fifteen cents. But, most importantly, no matter where we go, we still know where we came from! (The Chi, and the burbs and the really prestigious private prep school). Holla back, B-rabbit. Word.