Heather knows what she's doing. Remember, she's famous worldwide for promoting Yummie Tummie. If I were trying to brand a product I would call Heather Thomson. In fact both the RNC and the DNC should consider hiring her. She stays on message like a politician in a dead heat.
However, I can't keep my eyes off Mrs. Morgan. It's unthinkable, isn't it? Mrs. J.P. Morgan packing a suitcase, which should be filled with evening wear and yachting clothes, and filling it up with a toaster oven? It's such an unpleasant thought that I can only process it if I am assured one of the interns was assigned to this task. That she even has to roll it around the streets of New York makes me shudder.
I hear the soundtrack to Fiddler on the Roof in this scene. Don't you?
"If I were a rich (wo)man,
Yubby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dibby dum.
All day long I'd biddy biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy (wo) man.
I wouldn't have to work hard.
Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum."
Sonja needs more biddy biddy bumming than she is getting. Sonja Tremont Morgan was not put on this earth to carry a toaster oven around in a Tumi suitcase, crumb tray or no crumb tray. A Morgan should be selling bonds for sport, not toaster ovens. Sonja is simply too sparkly. She should be in tiaras and feathers from morning to night. I've said this to her many times. She was born to host in fabulous homes in the South of France. She was born to be the matriarch of chateaus, yachts, and a staff of seventy. I've never met this ex-husband, Mr. Morgan, but like Sonja I keep all of my money with him and now I'm worried. I'm closing my investment accounts and moving to South of France. Anyone want to join?
I don't think Big Guns and Sonja are getting along. Keep your eye on that. I can't wait for the photo shoot. Trust me on this.
Where are the notepads, by the way? This whole meeting is malarkey because there are no notepads. No one brought the notepads. It's hard to keep track of those fonts.