City of contrasts

I am endlessly fascinated by two New York City websites that offer a glimpse into worlds that I shall never enter. The first is New York Social Diary where women with names like Bunny and Tinsel clutch stemware and smile stiffly into the camera. Nearby, two investment banker/philanthropists with roman numerals in their names discuss the Shinnecock Golf Club without giggling. When I’ve had my fill of patrician partying, I surf on over to the guest book at This is where you go to reminisce about guys named Sticks, Lefty Big Ears, Frankie Hots and Roach. Not to mention mean nuns that punched you in the face.


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