Anger Management for a Young Biddy

Sorry about the brief hiatus. I was off doing biddy things and clearly (and ignorantly) shirking my responsibilities as the royal biddy queen. My crown is both a burden and a blessing, after all.

Ugh, my life is so hard!

Originally, I was going to write this entire post about the repulsive Kim Kardashian and her repulsive wedding with the repulsive Kanye West. However, amidst my throw-up, I found myself in an uncontrollable fit of rage. A rage that is not a stranger to the average young biddy. This was a rage that needed to be tamed and just could not be.

Why do such morally corrupt people procreate? Why can't gays have to suffer through marriage like heterosexual folk? Why do boys not get periods? Why is there so much injustice in the world? Question after question popped into my mind, thus fueling the biddy anger. The biddy fires were raging, but then, I remembered something key, something important. I remembered the dissertation I wrote on this very subject a few years back.

I cleverly titled it, "Biddy Anger management for Dumb Biddies." These are my five steps for any biddy who finds herself/himself on the verge of punting a cunt or two.

Step #1: Breathe in and breathe the fuck out.

I know it sounds cliche, but studies have shown that it is important to, you know, breathe. Oxygen apparently is a big deal in some cultures, so make sure that you are getting it.

Step #2: Unload the gun.

Listen, we have all been there. Let's just say, some dumb biddy you know has decided she would take it upon herself to go buy the same exact dress from Free People that you bought just days before (and no, contrary to popular belief, imitation is not the sincerest form of flattery... it is just fucking annoying). Instead of shooting her, there are some better options (but less enticing, nonetheless). For instance, you could break into her house, steal the dress and burn it. Another option could be stealing her pet pomeranian or pet parakeet to teach her a lesson. Or, perhaps, you could take the "high road" and return the dress.

BUT... for the love of everything holy, do not, I REPEAT, do NOT wear that dress. I am not trying to turn you into a doormat here, I am just trying to stop you from committing murder.

Step #3: Pour yourself a cocktail (or mock-tail).

A biddy needs to get her biddy drink on almost immediately after unloading the gun. Alcohol can be a beautiful thing, of course, however, that is not the important part of the drink. All that really matters is that the drink is pretty, we are biddies after all (virginal or slutty, it really does not matter). Malibu-bay breezes are good, Pina coladas are decent and Shirley Temples will work in a pinch.

Enjoy that cocktail, you have earned it. To be honest, if you made it to this step without getting arrested then you have already exceeded my expectations (and my personal abilities).

Step #4: Get your hair done.

Get it dyed, get a perm or get a fucking trim. Do WHATEVER you can so that you can immediately post a selfie to Instagram or Facebook and acquire as much attention as humanly possible. Receiving attention for looking hot over social media is extremely therapeutic. Try to round up as many likes as you can. Make sure you post the photo at the correct time during the day (not too early and not too late) in order to maximize your chances of getting likes. If no one likes it, re-post it again...and again and again and again, until they GET the picture. Everyone needs to know you got a haircut...EVERYONE!

Step #5: Write a blog post about it.

To bring closure to the problem that you are dealing with and to diffuse any residual anger you may have, even after completing the previous steps, you must take to your blog and talk massive amounts of shit about everyone and anyone who you can think of. This step is crucial. You must be catty as fuck, it is a requirement.

Now, I do not know about you, but I am feeling zen as fuck right now.

XOXO,
Jules