Special election to decide if we should save homes built on sand

This isn't so much a class warfare piece, because the taxes it would affect are only for those who are directly effected by erosion, but Newsday ran an interesting news story about a vote coming up in February to decide on two $13 million plus tax levies that would pay for emergency sand drops on properties threatening to wash away in future storms.

The two votes are for districts in Bridgehampton and Sagaponack, each calling for a little over 13 million in tax increases.

Question: Where are they getting the sand from?
Answer: Beaches where poor people live.

OK, now it's a class warfare piece.

Unintended hilarity of the story: the amount of absentee ballots that will need to be sent because the vote is being held in February and rich people don't exist in the Hamptons in February.

Right-Wing Jabrone of the story: This guy-- Snafu803: Of course they should get it. They work hard and everyone is jealous they get nicer things then the average person. Who wants to go to jones beach with all the drunks and city trash. I say close jones beach and give it all to the hamptons where it will be appreciated

Jerry Della Femina's Problems Would Make Jesus Christ Want To Murder Him

Jerry Della Femina's idea of poverty is so rage inducing we saw the Dalai Lama read this Business Insider article and then immediately turn around and punch an infant in the face.

Della Femina, the sleazy, slimy lying gold-toothed creep ad man was one of the few Madison Avenue execs who amassed his fortune and didn't manage to blow it on a coke habit in the 80s. He's been a permanent fixture in the Hamptons since forever and even opened up a successful restaurant with the money he made convincing people with money they don't have to buy shit they don't need.

Now he's sold his house because, well, because his poor unborn great grandchildren may not be able to sit by a pool lined with the skin of Mexican day laborers while doing lines off a blonde co-ed's back. Or as we used to call it: The American Dream.

That's right, a man who lives in America in 2012, with full knowledge of how high the unemployment rate is, who no doubt had to lay off some of his own workers at his various business ventures, who flies his helicopter over thousands of foreclosed homes, has the balls to complain that he's selling because he refuses to pay more taxes under the Obama administration.

Taxes? Really? Taxes? You do realize, Della Femina, that your tax bill is probably quadruple the monthly mortgage of the average home just west of where you live, right?

Instead of feeling fortunate that he even has the money to PAY those taxes, he's selling low just to avoid them. His ginormous, disgustingly lavish, and grossly unnecessary oceanfront house went for $25 million. He wanted $40 million. But he's settling for 25. A fact that makes us just...so sad.

“I want the proceeds of this sale to go to my kids and my grandkids,” he told The Post's Jennifer Gould Keil and Selim Algar. “I don’t want my money going to Obama, and that’s what’s going to happen in the New Year. That’s why I sold right now, that’s why I wanted to get this done.”
“I’m basically the loser in Obama’s class warfare,” he added.

Wow. That really gets us...right around...the chest/heart region or thereabouts. Another loser in Obama's class warfare, according the article, is Discovery Networks CEO David Zaslav, who inherited Della Femina's meager 8 bedroom, 6.5 bathroom, heated pool-even-though-there's-a-literal-ocean-500-feet-away, mansion that sits on 1.7 acres.

On a side note, we'd like to know how an advertising/marketing guru can be this culturally tone-deaf. On a sider note, we'd like to know how Della Femina's brain didn't say to him: 'please don't call the NY Post and...say anything like what you're about to say.' On an even sider note, we'd like Della Femina to eat a bag of dicks.

How Does All Kinds of Awesomeness Reside In One Person?

We're late to the Twitter game, and still haven't followed this man, but if you like Hamptonyte Blog, you'll love Hamptons handyman Joe Schwenk's Twitter account. It is filled with all sorts of nuggets about the type of requests he fills and people he encounters while doing odd-jobs for the Hamptons wealthy.

New York Magazine just printed a summer wrap-up article with Schwenk, who has over 6,000 followers on Twitter, all frothing at the mouth to hear what he encounters on a daily basis. Like my favorite new term "Beachtrepreneur," which perfectly sums up these women who have hitched their star to successful men and now find all sorts of time to whittle away the hours paddleboarding, taking instagram photos of themselves eating produce, and spin-cycling.

The best. Plus he has ginormous balls to risk losing business in a region that still has an old-school privacy about them. He even mentions some staff signing confidentiality agreements when hired. For those reasons, Hamptonyte Blog feels sad around him. Unaccomplished. Quite the posers, really. We can only wish for such access to that world.

So follow him. He's better than us.
But we're funnier. So follow us too! Go.

Hamptons Homes: Not Cheap Anymore. Boo!

According to Business Week, the average price of homes in the Hamptons is on the rise. After an agonizing half-year hiatus in which opportunistic Wall Street and Hollywood types (See: vultures) had to forego the third home, they're now smelling blood in the water, which has increased sales on the east end to the biggest annual jump in seven years.

Jonathan Miller smells bullshit: "You had a lot more high-end properties in the mix and that skewed the indicators. I’d still characterize the housing prices in general as stable."

What does seem apparent is that buyers and sellers are engaging in a classic poker game staring contest. The sellers know what they're holding. The buyers know the sellers are shitting themselves to sell. They cancel each other out and meet half-way. Must have been tough, that long, hot summer of 09, but congrats everyone! You made it through!

In other news: Mastic Beach is still poor.