I am called a gold digger all the time. I don't care. There is nothing you can do about what other people say.
If I was a gold-digger, I would have a lot of money in my bank account. I'd be worth millions and millions.
People say I'm a gold digger, but do you see me wearing gold? No. I'm wearing diamonds.
Ignore reality, there's nothing you can do about it.
I'm here to tell you, though, ladies that the term "gold digger" is one of the traps we men set to keep you off our money trail; we created that term for you so that we can have all our money and still get everything we want from you without you asking for or expecting this very basic, instincual responsibility that men all over the world are obligated to assume and embrace. ... KNOW THIS: It is your right to expect that a man will pay for your dinner, your movie ticket, your club entry fee, or whatever else he has to pay for in exhange for your time.
The gold-digger is the enemy of the honest laborer, whatever checks and compensations there may be. It is not enough to tell me that you worked hard to get your gold. So does the Devil work hard. The way of transgressors may be hard in many respects.
Gold diggers are the wife beaters of men!
Someone stole all my credit cards, but I won't be reporting it. The thief spends less than my wife did
When I think of the gold-diggers and the Mormons, the slaves and the slave-holders and the flibustiers, I naturally dream of a glorious private life. No, I am not patriotic.
The most adorable thing about Toronto is that she remains fiercely aloof and indifferent to the fads and entrepreneurial fevers of her lovers. She is intractably herself, admissive to the most vagrant, sober in a way that gets misinterpreted as stodginess. Her generosity extends to the meek as well as the gold diggers. Mercifully, she doesn't give a hoot about our portraits of her, but just waits, patiently, for our affection and citizenship.
And frankly, I'm a huge gold digger and The Miz is about to make a lot of money!
Keep in mind that there are computers, that do touch things up. Like when I got a hold of the poster for 'Gold Diggers,' I said: 'Hey, wait a minute! Those aren't my teeth!
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