Tamara Mellon Makes Me Sick

I have no idea who in the f**k Tamara Mellon is except that a) she is mega rich, b) she knows some guy called Jimmy who makes fancy-dan shoes for her and c) she makes me physically ill. She is also the girlfriend of Hollywood actor Christian Slater, is completely devoid of any morals and is a total hypocrite.
In the following MTV Cribs video, (a programme I despise: "Hey losers look at the cool expensive shit I own and you don't and never f**king will."), Tamara casually gives you a tour of her modest pad exhibiting her range of fur jackets and snake skin purses and handbags. That's right PETA, if your reading this, her name is Tamara Mellon. Just to be sure now that's T-A-M-A-R-A M-E-L-L-O-N. A little hypocritical moment later we see her opening her fridge and proudly announcing that she only ever buys organic produce. So skinning baby seals and polar bears for jackets and slicing and dicing up snakes for bags and purses is cool, but eating non-organic food is like totally unacceptable, like totally?
She also suffers from another excruciating disorder very rich people have of name dropping at every possible opportunity: "This is a picture of me having dinner with the Queen", "This is where I keep my original Andy Warhol", "My daughter Minty was a bridesmaid at Liz Hurley's wedding", "These dresses were worn to the Oscars and to Elton John's white tie and tiara sex fuelled orgies".
She also informs us she was Woman Of The Year twice over, for what exactly I have no idea, except maybe for her expert baby seal, snake and polar bear hunting/trapping skills, and that her daughter is called Minty, you know like the ice cream flavour. Which reminds me, if ever I become rich and famous my first child will be called Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough...the Third.
People like Tamara, materialistic, mega rich, ignorant, hypocritical, baby seal, polar bear and snake murdering people like Tamara, who we all should, in some sort of sick MTV way, aspire to be like, dress like and live like, make me yearn for the end of days. I can't wait to embrace the zombie apocalypse, the bubonic plague, the war to end all wars, the landing of an alien race intent on wiping out mankind. Solely because as I'm loading up my pump-action shotgun, pulling on my tight, (non-cowhide), leather biker trousers, adjusting my pirate eye patch and lighting up the world's largest cigar to single handedly save the human race, Tamara and people like Tamara will turn to me and my son, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough the Third, for help and I'll just casually shake my head and walk away in a cloud of non-organic cigar smoke. Pick yourself a f**king matching outfit for that day, bitch!
Seriously though, this video will make you ill. Now if you'll excuse me I'm off to archive my underpants, so my future son can use them...in the future.