Good lord how nasty to be unsolicited
Your mom was not a celebrity or in the public eye which means people talk about them
I assume you cared about your mom
Yoko Ono was no different and no better than any other
rotten hard-left twunt living a life of luxury on the Upper West Side.
She wasn’t a celebrity, either. You might as well call E. Jean Carroll a celebrity.
Not taking back a thing. People hear about 90-year-old Yoko Ono in a wheelchair and go into full “oh my God how horrible” mode. Those same people, if they were stuck behind my mother in the grocery store, would have been visibly irritated at the inconvenience.
If I sound nasty, it’s because that’s my mood. The sooner Yoko joins her husband, the sooner a big apartment becomes available in the Dakota. That’s as positive as I can be on this occasion.
Did I mention that I went out of my way to avoid setting foot in the part of Central Park that includes the “Strawberry Fields” memorial, and particularly the “Imagine” inscription, all the years I lived in New York? Spit.