Dance Fundraiser Quotes

Hillary mingled with old friends in Sag Harbor under a tent on the night of August 30: Calvin Klein, Harvey Weinstein, Jimmy Buffett, Jon Bon Jovi, and Sir Paul McCartney. Buffett and his wife, Jane, were the hosts of this extravaganza, which capped a multiday fund-raising blitz through the Hamptons. For a minimum of $100,000, VIPs were treated to dinner, “premium seating,” and the option to dance the night away with Hillary, Bill, and a few of their A-list pals. Hillary put on a brave face, reveled with her donors, and even joined in singing “Hey Jude.” But, below the surface, she was tense. Her closest aide’s personal life was blowing up in a fashion so spectacular that the campaign was at risk of becoming collateral damage.

Speaking of fundraisers, another special educator had a suggestion. She wore a black leather belt with metal studs that was at odds with her slender frame and long brown hair. She was the chair of the special education department at Peachtree Alternative School. “At my son's school in Tucker,” the chair said, “the principal stood on the roof and did hula dances in a grass skirt. She also let students throw pie pans of shaving cream at her." The idea did not appeal to Ms. Henderson. “You've got to remember our population,” she said. “If our students threw pans of shaving cream at me, it would hurt. I've had to suspend eight kids, today, and did it alone because I don't have an assistant principal. I'm not very popular.

Heavy Issues (Bowen #2) : chap 9 Chapter Nine Christy paid for her soda and looked around. Tonight was a low-key event, no fund-raising dinner or dance, just good old outdoor-movie night. And thank God for it. Alden was a small town, but boy these people knew how to party. The whole park was packed, but she soon found Sophie at the far end and walked toward her, dropping onto a wooden chair the second she reached her, tired after a long day. She hadn’t had time to properly sit when Rose and her entourage approached them, the beautiful blonde glancing around and then focusing on Christy, disdain oozing from her. “Where did you leave Cole? Or has he gotten tired of you already?” Sophie snorted. “Wouldn’t you wish that.” “He’s filling in for Mike down at the gym—karate lesson. I’m very surprised you aren’t there drooling.” “We weren’t drooling,” Rose retorted. Ah, so they’d been there. What a surprise. “I still can’t believe he’s dating you. Did he lose a bet or something?” she asked, looking toward her friends. Bitch. Christy shrugged and offered her a sweet smile. “What do you want me to say? I just want to fuck the man, but he insists on dating me. Go figure that one.” Rose’s malicious eyes narrowed on her. “Enjoy it while it lasts. You can’t hold on to a man like that. You don’t have what it takes.” And with that parting shot Rose strode away, all long legs and swinging hips. “‘You don’t have what it takes,’” Sophie repeated, mocking Rose’s tone. “And what’s that, Botox and a bad case of sluttiness?

CYGNUS EXPRESS – A PROJECT ODYSSEUS FUNDRAISER Vastness of space, planets orbiting distant suns, partygoers in gleaming imitations of vacuum suits, bleeping sound of contact through the static of cosmic background radiation, overlaid with driving trance rhythm. Frances shrugged. Damn, she felt good pressed against him. “In space,” she said, “no one can hear you dance.” Kade shrugged. “Next.