2009 was a banner year for Ruth Madoff. She was livin’ the dream if the dream includes her husband Bernie Madoff pleading guilty to a $65 billion, decades-long Ponzi scheme and being investigated by the feds. Greedy assholes getting their comeuppance resulted in Ruth passing the time by smoking copious amounts of weed, drowning her felonious sorrows in numerous bottles and taking out her munchies on innocent bags of Funyuns.
“Ruth had a network in place to deliver pot up to the apartment,” a source told Page Six of life inside the couple’s posh duplex penthouse at 133 E. 64th St. “If she didn’t have anything to smoke it in, she would order someone out to a bodega for rolling papers because she felt unsafe leaving the apartment herself.”
“After Ruth smoked up on their rooftop patio, she’d walk around munching on bags of Funyuns or other types of chips.”
Okay, maybe not exactly like a college stoner since Ruth and Bernie reportedly downed thousands of dollars worth of wine from the family’s extensive collection while he was on house arrest instead of hitting up a gas station whose bunk-ass marquee sign boasts “lowest licker prices in town” for cases of Milwaukee’s Best. And I’m assuming her pot delivery network wasn’t helmed by a guy named Ziggy who drives around in a 2005 Chrysler 300 and is fooling precisely zero motherfuckers with the aftermarket Bentley grille held in place by zip ties.
Page Six notes that while Bernie is in the slammer serving a 150-year sentence, Ruth lives in a modest apartment in Connecticut, drives a Prius and was allowed to keep $2.5 million of her husband’s mostly ill-gotten billions.