How spoiled is Patsy Klein? The sound of her whine echoes throughout this book, which isn't really a book at all, but an idea for a magazine article that someone should have killed a long time ago. Klein's grandfather developed the Klein stores headquartered in Chicago, and her mother "was from a long line of diamond merchants, part of the famous Oppenheimer family." Based on such credentials, the poor little rich girl tried to write sort of a kiss-and-tell, but the problem that is no one ever kissed her. And even if someone had, Klein wouldn't know what to write about it because she offers as much insight on life in Beverly Hills as a salesgirl at Giorgio. What she does, and does poorly, is list her favorite plastic surgeons ("Dr. John Williams knows about beauty and women. He's been married to several . . ."), country clubs, discos, restaurants and private schools. One of her most embarrassing observations comes in the chapter on children: "When I attended John Thomas Dye School . . . a few mothers picked kids up, but mostly it was the maids who were relegated to this duty. Pearl, our black jewel, was constantly told to drive 'faster, faster, faster' . . . ." This book is so bad that it should be banned by the Beverly Hills City Council.