If You Give A Biddy A Malibu Bay Breeze...

...she's probably going to ask for a gluten-free, sugar-free cookie to go with it.

It's been a strange week biddies, diddies, and kitties (I think that just about addresses everyone). My thoughts are in quite disarray. The truth be told, I am a little perturbed and I will tell you why. Here I sit perched on my biddy throne thinking about both myself and the world that revolves undoubtedly around me.

Thoughts like where am I? Who am I? What am I? and most importantly, why am I? Deep, existential shit, if you will.

I have figured out one thing about myself... a fault, if you will. I am a genius and I need to stop forgetting that. Lately I have even been thinking that I should unpack and dust off all of those ten trophies I earned in Recreational softball back in the day. Perhaps I should line them up all around the perimeter of my room as a reminder of my unsurpassable achievements. Shit, did I make sweet designs in the grass in the outfield all of those years. I think each week when I would sit out there crafting, I would take comfort in the fact that my spot was still warm from the week before. MVP motherfuckers.

Um, I'm very important. I have many leather-bound books, and my apartment smells of rich mahogany...

In all seriousness, I have been perusing the interwebs (per usual) and I came across something that I could have told you a long time ago:

http://shine.yahoo.com/healthy-living/sugar-free-bakery-closes-after-sugar-found-in-treats--can-you-trust-what-s-in-your-food--191810062.html
Call it wisdom beyond my years or a desperation for money but I have always said that I would love to use my allergy for economical purposes. Let me break it down. Bitches who know me know that I am deathly allergic to eggs. I believe it is my dream, nay, my purpose in life to taste test every so-called "vegan" establishment and test if they are actually vegan. Then, if I end up having to shoot up with epinephrine, it is pay day for Jules (depending on if I live to sue...death is but a minor obstacle to a biddy). Look at this, what I once viewed as a weakness of mine was really a gift, all along. Anyways, this article is anything but surprising to me. People will literally put anything in their mouth without one regard to what it actually is that they are eating.

They put bugs in yogurt these days and shellfish in microwave popcorn. Ingredients people, know them.

The other thoughts I have been considering are concerning Saint Patrick's Day. Ah, a classy holiday indeed. A holiday filled with drinking, creepists and rapey people. A smart bitch will listen up and remember my words of advice. A Saint Patrick's Day Tutorial, if you so please.

1) Order a Malibu Bay Breeze (light on the Bay Breeze). The drink of biddy champions.

2) If a 50 year old man hits on you but realizes you are not into older men and then decides to try to hook you up with his 22 year old son, it does not matter if this son is hot...this is weird. These are creepists. Of course, I do not speak from personal experience...

3) If a guy is staring at you in the bar and you do not want to poke, you must avoid eye contact with him at all costs. Look at the floor, look at the wall, look at your nails or even close your eyes if need be to avoid his glance. If you look, he will think you want his dick in and around your mouth. (Note to men: just because she looks at you, does not mean she wants you to penetrate her! Common mistake!)

4) Hook up with as many short gingers as humanly possible. Saint Patrick's Day is the only time when ginger leprechauns are acceptable. Go crazy. I will look the other way.

5) Biddies, wear clothes. Pasties at the very least.

6) Lastly,

I think that just about wraps up my week of jumbled thoughts.

Fuck bitches, get money.

XOXO,
Jules