Time for a new editor at the Globe's Style section.

There's a really great article, you see, on page L-12 of the Style section today about - get this - a white trash party at the Beaches in Toronto last weekend. It's so funny. You see it's about these well-off folk who get good cheques after writing lots of memos and stuff - then they make fun of white trash by having a white trash party. It it so funny and I really wish I was as great as these guys who had the party.

The losers who did this (and their pal who set up and wrote about the party and his Dad, who gotta be the editor given the whole Leah McLaren bore) are so stunned that they don't get it right and, as the Lord said, know not what they do. First, they had so show a stubby in the photo - so it is an import, Jamaican Red Stripe. Lots of that brew going down in the boonies.

There was much posing, a smoldering cigarette at her lips, over the pot of beans. If it were't for the espresso maker on the back of the stove, it would have been all too literal.

Sure, people eat white bread and Cheez Whiz... because they have little cash and no options. We know - unlike author Tralee, Maureen (never heard of the potato famine) O'Shea and named guests Ravinski and Crothers - folks who were lucky to get as much. It's not just that making fun of poor is so pathetic. It's the whole white trash / poor trash crap thing. Trailer Park Boys if funny to me because I went to school with them and knew the crap they had to put up with. I was proud as a kid of the friend's Dad or, as a adult, of the neighbour who hunted, hanged and dressed deer, grew their food, who fixed their cars and their homes - who knew how to do when money would not do. Folks who are capable - who the Beaches party set rely on when the money won't fix the problem.

The funniest thing about these Beaches losers is that they voted NDP in last week's election. Dorks.