Futile Friday - LV dog collars while children starve

In an effort to come up with some sort of catchy phrase for Friday posts, I took B-dawg out for a contemplative pee (he peed, I contemplated).

While in the elevator, I met my neighbour on the 27th floor - in she trotted, blonde haired, black suited and all with a nine-year-old-mutt named Bordeaux, "...like the wine..." she informed me, in a I buy only the 60 dollars and up bottles of wine from the Bordeaux region and I have no idea why I'm even talking to you because you live below the 27th floor kind of way.

I couldn't help but feel a little insecure, me in my 30$ tight jeans, $2.75 clearance sale fitted t-shirt, knock-off Gucci sandals and B-dawg clamoring about Bordeaux's ass, trying hard to shove his nose up her arse for a sniff.

TrottingBlonde made a face and pulled Bordeaux towards her.

"Hey, is that a real LV dog collar?," I asked, half amazed, "and a matching LV leash?"

"Yup, I called everywhere and they only had it at the store in the Fairmont", TrottingBlonde replied proudly, sticking her surgeon-tailored chin up in the air.

"Nice," I responded, shifting my feet under B-dawg's sitting loins to hide my fake Gucci sandals away from her view.

Ah yes, welcome to the little superficial, stuck up, douchebag, douchehag and chlamydia-infested corner of Vancouver, Canada, that is Yaletown.

Got money? Nope. Just hit up your Sugar Daddy for cash and head out to the nearest LV store and pick up an overpriced collar and matching leash for your mutt while the rest of the world starves and people continue to lose their jobs.

People in my hood never fail to amaze me with their foolishness.

Tisk. Then again, I've heard New Jersey's worse... is it!?