"Don't worry
-- it's fake!"
Back to: |
Ask Miss Fromack!
by Margie Fromack
(the one and only)
ello, my dahlings. Margie Fromack here. I want to
apologize for the unfortunate lateness of my column. It's not
because I don't love and appreciate you, my public. Dearest fans, I
was holed up in the clink. And what, you may ask, is a 55-year-old
woman (I don't mind telling people how old I am because I look
damn good) who lives 9 months out of the year on Long Island,
and 3 months out of the year wherever she pleases, doing in the
Big House? Dahlings, it was for a noble cause.
Well, last week in honor of Fur Free Friday, I decided to have a little fun at Sax Fourth Avenue. I took my floor length white mink coat, a gift from (excuse me while I spit) my ex-husband, Mr. Fromack, covered it with red paint, hailed a taxi, arrived at Sax, and proceeded to sashay through the store smiling and waving at all passersby.
One would think that after 25 years of actually paying retail prices
to those scumbags that the management would have treated me
with more respect. Instead, they called their 
burly, mutton-headed
security guards (apologies to the vegans for using the word
mutton), who put their grimy hands upon my body (which
I've been told by the way that I do have the face and body
of a 30-year-old woman -- thank you, Dr. Stuart
Rosenblatt!), and held me prisoner until the flatfoots could
arrive.
Would you believe that they actually arrested me for disturbing the peace, and had me thrown in jail? Me! Margie Fromack! Sitting in the hoos gow with a bunch of prostitutes and drug dealers and other malcontents!
What would my mother think! What would my children think? What would Mr. Fromack think? Oh wait, he's off cavorting with his 20-year-old girlfriend who has the face and body of a 20-year-old. But believe me, my dahlings, he's paying dearly for it. I've got a good lawyer. (Thank you, Marty Rosenbloom, Esq.!)
Anyway, since I don't care what my favorite nephew, jacko, thinks, I called him up to bail me out of the slammer.
"Aunt Margie!" he said. "Pay off the judge and let's get out of
here!"
Taking my nephew's advice, I asked the judge if I could approach the bench. I whispered in his ear, "Hey, judgie. I got five 100 dollar bills in my pocketbook with your name written on them, if you can just tell that nice young bailiff over there who needs a haircut to turn the other way as I walk out of this courtroom."
jacko's great idea bought me another three nights in lockup... So I missed my deadline for this article. But I would do anything for the animals, even spend a night in jail. I don't think my red Chanel suit with the big gold buttons will ever be the same.
But let's get back to the business at hand.
I think my nephew, jacko, asked me to do this column because he knows that people are constantly asking me for advice, and I am more than happy to offer my opinions on anything and everything. There is hardly a subject in the world that I don't know something about. I'm a Know-It-All in the best sense of the word. I've been around the bend a few times, and have a lot of knowledge stuck in my perfectly coifed head.
And after all, as it is my greatest joy to stick my nose into other people's business anyway, I might as well get paid for it, right? I am getting paid, aren't I? jacko...?
I'm new to this whole computer deal, and am eager to play with the big kids on the Net. I just received my first question via e-mail, and I'm absolutely thrilled to answer it. So here goes.
Dear Miss Fromack: I am 55-years old and my husband just left me for a 25-year-old schifosa. As I write this, they're cavorting together in West Palm Beach with all his friends. What do I do?
Sign me,
Bitter in Brooklyn
Dear Bitter: My dahling, four words: Stuart Rosenblatt and Marty Rosenbloom. They're in the book.
__________________________________________________
Do YOU have a question for Miss Fromack? Write to her, and your question may be answered here! Write to:
__________________________________________________
Margie Fromack is a well-known Long Island socialite and animal rights activist. She is divorced from Mr. Fromack (thank God!), and has two brilliant children: her son Manny the doctor, and her daughter Tamara the lawyer.
Margie's column, Ask Miss Fromack, is a regular feature of VegSource On-Line Magazine.