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Monday, April 04, 2005
Now that I am officially a blonde, there have been a few changes around here.
First of all, my boobs have swelled to the size of basketballs. My stylist said it would happen. Something about all the silicone in the hair dye seeping in through my scalp and dripping down my veins to my heart.
Secondly, I am now entitled to make the sort of demands of which brunettes and redheads can only dream. Men must now, no matter where or with whom they are sitting in a restaurant, pay for my meals. The Blonde Code states that now I must only drink champagne (or beer, if in a redneck setting).
Furthermore, the Code also requires me to enter any and all wet t-shirt contests. Eat that, brown heads.
Plus, men on the street slip dollar bills in my bikini now. So I quit my job. No need to waste my time slaving away at work: I made $46 walking to my car in the supermarket parking lot yesterday. The coin was a little cold but I guess the guy didn't have any bills.
Things aren't all rosy in my new fair world, though. My ex-boyfriend (my friend introduced me to him last night at the club) threatened me this morning that he will put our videos online. That'll hurt my acting career, I told him.
But things might be ok after all. I just got my acceptance into Harvard Law School. I never applied. It turns out Harvard has a special blonde clause. As a result of protests, discrimination against us is illegal. We all get accepted; some blondes complain that we're just the token minorities in a bigger sea of nerds. I'm ok with it myself.
As soon as I get my law degree, I am so opening up my own nail salon.
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