How To Fake Being Rich When Your Credit Score Is Under 630

It’s true. My credit score is abysmal. My mother has always said that I have a “hole in my pocket,” but she was wrong. It’s more than just a” hole in my pocket”, it’s a deep dark void of theoretical mass. A black-hole that leaches money from my account. I’m pretty sure “the cloud” is stealing it. Seriously WTF is “the cloud” and why do we talk about it like it’s a person/place/thing. The cloud is invisible. It is universal. It is everywhere and nowhere. It is basically God. We worship the cloud and it steals from my bank account.

Okay so the cloud isn’t really stealing my money (any thief who steals from me is an idiot because I’m pretty much a poor peasant since I’ve been cut-off from my financial oasis aka mom and dad). It’s me. I buy shit constantly. Literally shit. Shit that I never use but at that instance adamantly believe I will die without it.

Here’s a list of weird random shit that I have bought recently much of which I’ve rarely/never used.

  • A children’s book from my childhood that features 26 children and how they die
  • 300 beads that I never used. (I wanted to get into “healing crystals” but the beads were too tiny to be strung on any strings. I bought: Rose quart faceted rondelles, Ametrine chips, Peridot faceted briolettes, moss Aquamarine faceted rondelles, Rhodonite chips, Kunzite smooth rounds, Aquamarine faceted briolettes).
  • A complete set of beach themed sticky notes.
  • A bronze sculpture of an octopus holding a mirror.
  • Ten different figurines of pottery from my local pottery studio so I could come back and not pay the studio fee each time (I haven’t been back)
  • A four-step skin care regimen and eyelash growth serum that amounted to around $350
  • $60 worth of Lush products I already probably own
  • Dog treats (I don’t have a dog).
  • Stupid skin care exfoliater “infused with gold” that I was basically guilt-tripped into buying by the hot Israeli salesperson who gave me a “discount”
  • $200+ worth of random Target items. You really should go to Target high, it’s magical.
  • A desk that doesn’t fit in my room.
  • $150 to join a soccer league (that I never went to)

I also don’t return things… So I end up with random stuff I don’t need. Hoarding is a disease I think, are there drugs I can take?

Anyway, it’s easy to spot someone who doesn’t have money. While not completely accurate, a lot of higher-class women take extremely good care of themselves. They can afford monthly IPL’s from their world famous dermatologist; their eye-brows are always waxed and flawless; their hair is perfectly blown out each week and beautifully cut/dyed every six weeks; their clothes are clean and stylish (and usually expensive); their skin is tan from vacations (or the local tanning salon); their bodies are perfectly toned (since they can afford a personal chef and motivational personal trainer).

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But there are some things you can fake until you make. Afterall, it doesn’t really matter what your credit score is. As long as your hubby’s is 750+ you’re golden. But in order to attract a million bucks, you need to be a million bucks. Here are things you should do in order of importance.

  1. Be fit. I can’t express this enough. Fat people don’t look rich. It’s sad but they are extremely discriminated against. Fat rich people can also choose surgeries to thin up (gastric bypass anyone?) and fat camps for their children (like the one where Lolita went). Being thin is about 90% what you eat. But being fit is about exercise. We recommend that women who want to lose weight stop snacking altogether (especially while high, this is when I eat 85% of my calories); drink alcoholic drinks with low calorie counts; choose either to decrease how much fat you eat or how many carbs. Being fit is a life-style, you’ll have to really focus on what you’re eating. Anorexia is the only way to get skinny. But it’s terrible for your body and not sustainable (Roberta and I know). So start with what you’re putting into your body (penises are always allowed). Next is exercise. Exercise is imperative to be hot. But without a personal trainer and a gym membership you have to get creative. Start doing some yoga (will help your sex life too, trust); run with a friend (just make sure you don’t sweat in front of anyone attractive); do the monkey bars at a local playground (unless you’re really fat and look like a predator); and find something to lift – even if it’s your full nalgene. The three things involved in being fit are: diet, cardio, strength. But easier said than done. Bonus points if you post your “weight-loss” journey on social media to show off your new hot bod.
  2. Hair. Your hair is the most noticeable thing about your appearance. I don’t care if you have to do it yourself but it must be dyed and highlighted (not a universal color, ew). You can go to your local beauty supply store and buy bleach to highlight your hair. If you know what your doing and understand the bleach process you can do a great job yourself. You hair should also be cut regularly (no split ends), and should always be styled. If I see frizz I assume the worst. You can also get a good groupon.
  3. Nails. Do your nails yourself and find a good top-coat. I swear this is the easiest fucking thing to do and it makes an enormous difference. Chipped nails = Orphan Annie. So not chic.
  4. Clothes. This is arguably the most important thing. You don’t need to wear all designers to look rich, but stay away from knock-offs (we can tell 99% of the time). Buy non-designer clothes from stores that are not heavily branded. I don’t want to know you shop at Old Navy. It’s not 1995, being a catalogue model is not chic. Subscribe to your favorite brands to be notified when their items are discounted. Shop the 70% clearance racks at the end of each season in your local department store (wear sunglasses so you’re not recognized). Go to “thrift” stores and find designer clothes for less (I have friends who do this but personally I find it gross). I also recommend you watch the trends on makeup/hair/clothes/bags/accessories closely. Know what’s in for next season and start looking for bold pieces that are on-trend. This is the only time we approve of shopping at H&M and Forever 21. A good rule of thumb is: splurge on staples but be fickle with your fortune when it comes to fast-trends.

Hope this’ll help elevate your status to seduce the man with the perfect pedigree!

Kisses,
Juanita

 

 

 

Who Needs The Gym When You Can Shop?

Since I was young, my mom has always joked that I better marry rich, The OG Jewish American Princess (JAP), my mom knows how to shop for days. I have always made fun of her, saying that I could never be that vain – that I know the value of money, etc. Well, let this be my confession – I fear I have become first world spoiled – and I want more.

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Yesterday, I looked in the mirror and realized that I finally have the body of a woman and not a pre-Bat Mitzvah pubescent. Unfortunately, that means my tiny boobs becoming almost Cs (let’s be honest – they’re still Bs) has also been accompanied by 10x more fat being deposited elsewhere. And yes, weight is just a number, but 15 pounds on a 5’ frame is a lot and I will never resort to lipo. Ew.

Anyways, excited about the prospect of a hot summer bod, I raced to Athleta – the better version of Lululemon, in my opinion. Shanice, the saleswoman, and I became fast friends.

Each time I came out of the dressing room, I peered around trying to get her eye contact and approval. “I don’t think this fits me right – I’ve got this armpit fat here, you know what I’m talking about? I hate that” I complained to her. The ever amazing Shanice, my spirit animal, replied back, “Girl, don’t I know it! Mhm!” (Not that race matters, but I know you were all wondering, and yes she’s sassy and black). Needless to say, I left the store with two full bags and a new credit card. Although in my defense, I got a discount with my new credit card; so I’m really being responsible, right?

I raced home, put on my new outfit and pumped myself up about going to work out. But it was already 1 PM so I convinced myself that I should get lunch first. I mean – a girl has got to eat her 6 meals a day, you know? I get really cranky when I’m angry and if I’m cranky I am not working out. So I went to the ritzy downtown nearby my parent’s house and got myself some chicken fajitas (tacos are so 2016). I even opted out of my usual marg and got a water glass – clearly I was slaying this weight loss thing. I’m so proud.

Belly full, I hopped on out of the restaurant and thought to myself, “Don’t all those ladies lose weight walking and shit? I should do that. Then I can become skinny and keep shopping!” Pleased with my own logic, I walked all the way up and down the street stopping at each store. I pretended I was wearing a fit bit – I should definitely buy one of those – and was confident that my excursion was productive. Nothing makes me happier than my favorite store  where the ladies all coo and give you champagne while you try on clothes. I feel like royalty there – let’s face it I’m pretty much royalty everywhere.

Exhausted from my full lap (walking is way harder than it looks) and confident with my new clothes, I skipped to my car and drove home to nap (you burn more calories sleeping than watching Netflix so I made the right choice). And yes, while I maxxed out my credit card from my heavy spending, I just got another one. No biggie. They give them out like beer at a frat party, and just like beer at a frat party you don’t know you’ve been roofied until it’s too late.

Anyway, I know I probably didn’t lose any weight today. But hey – if I’m going to look like this, I better have hot clothes right? Isn’t that what all this female empowerment and “love the skin you’re in” movement is all about? Psht, and it’s not like I need to work that hard. I’m pretty enough to marry rich and have like 10 children and be one of those moms that sits around and bitches to other moms with her wine filled 24-7 #goals – but that’s a conversation for another post.

Hugs and Kisses,
Katarina

Disney Princesses Ranked By Sluttiness

Whether we like it or not, Disney’s been priming us to be whores since we left the womb. Next time you go on a tinder-bender and would like to adamantly deny screwing a six, blame Walt. These are the role-models he provided us with:

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10. Cinderella. It’s not so easy to snag a prince. She needs some serious moves if she wants to keep her Title (Roberta knows). We’re sure Cindy spices things up with her Prince by bringing in some ladies in waiting for shared duties. Royal threesome much?

9. Anna. So naïve and quick to fall in love. She’s the kinda girl to believe anything a guy tells her, “you can’t get pregnant standing up” or “it’s not sex if it’s in the butt.” Without any parental role-models (or really any adult supervision) you bet she’s the village bicycle.

8. Moana. The whole “single” Disney Princess who “doesn’t need a male protagonist” thing doesn’t fool us. We know it’s only because Moana doesn’t need to be tied down to a man. She doesn’t want you to call her after a one-night stand either.

7. Aurora. Honey, you’re not in perpetual slumber from some dumb witch. It’s called a hangover. Or a Xanax coma. Either way we’ve all been there. A’s constant partying was bound to catch up to her eventually (what else is there to do when you’re quarantined in the middle of nowhere)? Not to mention the fairies baby-sitting our sleeping beauty aren’t too sharp either. They’re completely oblivious of A’s frequent night-caps with her woodland creatures.

6. Megara. This bitch has serious daddy issues (we can relate). Why else would she sell her soul to Hades and face eternal damnation? She’s a total sub and there’s no denying it. But we think Meg’s pretty bad ass. We love her wit and sarcasm. Her best line: “You know how men are. They think “No” means “Yes” and “Get lost” means “Take me, I’m yours.” Preach mama preach.

5. Belle. We know for sure Belle is a freak in bed. How so? Gaston’s cock couldn’t satisfy her so she needed a fucking Beast. Bestiality much? They totally do-it all over the castle and with so many enchanted objects around you know Beauty and her Beast are totally into voyeurism. Were their sex toys human at one point too?

4. Mulan. Masquerading as a man in the middle of a Chinese army means she’s surrounded by penises. The nights are lonely so far from home. We’re pretty sure she perked her butt up for a few soldiers who probably thought she was just a lady-boy.

3. Ariel. Even though she traded her beautiful voice for dumb legs, Ariel’s spent sixteen years in the ocean. She can definitely hold her breath underwater longer than any human. You know what that means: blow jobs. The Prince wants loads of them, and since Ariel can’t talk she’s every man’s dream.

2. Jasmine. She has more suitors than facebook friends, there’s no way she doesn’t like to get a sneak peak at some of the goods before turning them away. Aladdin must be HUNG, and that genie is definitely getting in on some action (after being cooped up in a lamp for 10,000 years you bet he was ready to bust a nut). Not to mention Jas has a literal tiger as a pet. Can you say Kinky or what?

1. Snow White. She lives in a house with seven men, need we say more? Not to mention all that cooking and cleaning she does puts her more in the category of whore opposed to slut. Not that either of those are bad, just that we like to call a spade a spade and this spade enjoys getting fucked.

Hope we didn’t ruin your childhood too much but next time you see someone in a slutty Disney costume remember that they may be more accurate than you think.

Hugs and Kisses,
RJ

How to Master Tinder: The Photo

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Grow boobs. Honestly. That’s all you have to do. According to our extremely reliable guy friends who peruse Tinder more than instagram due to of their huge erections, nine times out of ten girls get a mutual match with each right swipe. The theory is that Tinder is flooded with ugly guys (and guys who seem ugly because they don’t know the difference between exposure and brightness on their shitty iphone cameras), whereas every single girl at least knows something about camera angles, skinny arms, and photoshop. Not to say we photoshop each of our photos (we’re hot already, can’t make things too unfair) but we sure as hell are cropping out anything and everything we don’t want you to see. Men, on the other hand, don’t understand why their sister’s baby isn’t helping them match with all the hunnies out there.

If a photo is worth a thousand words, your first Tinder photo is worth a million. Most girls will not even click to see the rest of your pictures unless you are questionably attractive and we don’t know how to swipe. We have lots of tips to help you master the art of finding a DTF biddy, but becoming an internet Casanova takes time and patience. Here’s what to avoid with your photos:

  1. Babies. Yes, it has been statistically proven that showing that you can interact well with infants makes our ovaries tingle. But on Tinder? Not so much. Having a baby in your Tinder photo makes us wonder if it’s yours (something most women run away from, unless they’re crazy). Even if said child doesn’t belong to you (which it probably doesn’t) we aren’t going to waste time investigating. Saying “not my baby” in your bio doesn’t help either since we don’t read bios anyway. The only way you can possibly get around this rule when posing with the most photogenic baby alive is if you edit the photo and put text over it that says “not my baby.” But putting so much effort into one photo only makes us want to swipe left faster.
  2. Group Shots. These are never a good idea. I don’t care if you took a photo with Leonardo DiCaprio or if it’s a picture of you meeting the Queen. We don’t care. Group photos only detract from you (the one we are trying to evaluate). When a man has a group shot we immediately assume he is the ugliest in the group. What, do you want us swiping right so you can introduce us to your hot friends? The only exception to this rule is if you truly are butt ugly, in which case the cheerleader effect can be used to your advantage. While we don’t personally think a group shot is wise, some girls do want to know that you have a social life so one group shot is acceptable at the back of your photo queue if you have more than three solitary shots.
  3. Grainy Photos. NEXT. What, you can’t afford a good phone-camera? How are you going to provide for our future offspring or even buy us dinner. A grainy photo pretty much spells out “going dutch,” and that’s something highly respectable girls do not stand for. It’s called standards.
  4. Close-Ups. They only serve to further highlight your bad skin and crooked nose. Let us see that you’re not a summo wrestler with a skinny face.
  5. Ab Pics. If you want to get laid then keep your eight-pack photo up, but include your face or we are most definitely swiping left. We want to see that you have a nice bod but a mirror pic is not the way to do it. It makes you look sleazy and trashy. Try a casual bathing-suit pic if you must but know that it could make or break potential swipes.
  6. Smiling. It seems couter-intuitive but don’t smile in all your photos, especially not your first. Keeping a stoic and mysterious facial expression makes you like ten times hotter. Psychology bitches.
  7. Animals that aren’t dogs. As a self-proclaimed crazy-cat-lady I can tell you that a man posing with his feline friend is weird. As is posing with your ferret, snake, and or iguana. Unless it’s a dog (man’s best friend) we are going to assume you are weird from the start and will next you immediately. That’s not to say a man with an iguana, cat, or (big) snake is a turn-off, only that we don’t want to see your other friends on your tinder profile (because what normal person does that).
  8. Photos that don’t show your face. This should be self-explanatory but for some reason some men think we’re more likely to swipe right if you’ve been to the Eiffel tower. Like good for you but if you’re not cute I could care less where you’ve been. I pretty much assume that any man I plan on dating has been around the world a couple times. I mean, he will have to if he wants to keep up with my own wanderlust. We approve of pictures of you in nature, but only if we can see your hot bod and Abercrombie-worthy face.
  9. Just one photo. Do you only have one ball too? Seriously, how can we evaluate if your profile is real or if you’re a serial killer when we only have one option? NEXT.
  10. Only Professional Photos. Professional photos are extremely pompous for guys, but we like to know that you care enough about your looks to make a good first impression. But if all your photos look like profiles in GQ we are going to assume that you’re either way too high-maintenance for us (which is saying a lot coming from us), or fake. Most likely you’re a 45 year old guy in his mom’s basement looking for risky snaps. No thank you.

Remember, a girl that is looking through all your photos is only doing so for one of two reasons. Either you matched and she’s responding to your messages/considering going out with you. OR, she’s scrolling to see if you’re ugly or not (since your first photo is too ambiguous to tell).

You’re in shark infested waters. One Tinder photo fail can leave you with zero matches and no-body to bone on Saturday night post-drinks.

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Hugs and Kisses,
Roberta and Juanita

Why Do Crazy People Talk To Me?

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Do crazy people attract more crazy people? Honestly, I’d like to know. Here I am, minding my own business at the local coffee joint when this woman would not shut up. “Wow, your charger is really long,” she said as I plugged my computer charger into the outlet. I smiled and she went into this rant about how her charger is not long enough and this bitch wouldn’t let her sit at the table closest to the outlet. Not one to ignore gossip, I asked her about the bitch with a bad bowl cut giving me the stink eye.

Wow, these regulars truly have a lot of beef. “She’s jealous because I’m prettier than her,” the crazy woman said. This made me chuckle for two reasons. One. She looked a bit like the Queen when she turned into a hag. But this was only because she was like sixty-years old and she still looked prettier than the stink-eye girl with the bowl-cut. I think that if she’d let us we could make her into an old-six, easy. Two. I make comments like that constantly. Was this crazy-lady a reflection of what I might be in forty-years if I neglect sunblock, hair-care, and marry a janitor? Jarring. But enough to inspire me to get my shit together.

Crazy lady was very entertaining and she wouldn’t stop handing me compliments. “Your skin is amazing,” Really? This is the worst my skin has ever looked. I had seriously considered not leaving my house today in an attempt to shield the world from the very large white zit on my chin. Where’s your dermatologist with his set of cortisol shots when you need him?

Ultimately, after the crazy lady had tried to pass notes to me in a way nostalgic middle-school gossiper-way. I pretended not to be able to understand her and kept saying “what” progressively louder until she got the hint. Even crazy people have social grace. “I’m so sorry but I’m in the middle of something,” I told her, and she retreated back into her corner between crazy and deranged.

But it left me thinking. Aren’t we all a little mad?

Kisses,
Juanita

 

Should I Fuck My Uber Driver: An Ethical Dilemma

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As I am sure you have realized after reading our blog, uber drivers are primarily named Mohammad. Therefore, I was incredibly shocked to have a tall, white male as my chauffeur after a night of too much tequila and extreme inebriation.

During our pleasant rendezvous back to my house, I struck conversation with Mr. White Uber Driver (who could still hypothetically be named Muhammad, which is the most popular first name in the world) as I always do. “Why are you white?” I asked. The Regina George in my head was on vacation and instead I was channeling Karen Smith with my dumb and unfiltered thoughts. He chuckled uncomfortably, as I imagine any other white uber driver would do. “Are you asking why I drive for Uber if I’m white,” he asked, the amusement in his voice encouraging our frivolous conversation.

So, like all the Uber drivers who fall under my spell, he opened his heart to me. Mr. White Uber Driver had made some bad judgements in the past. Despite being an excellent salesperson (of Cannabis), he was arrested and spent time in jail. I asked him if he got any tattoos while in jail, I honestly can’t remember his answer. I like to think he had an affair with a prison guard and got his name tattoed on his ass but that probably didn’t happen.

“There aren’t a lot of jobs for ex-cons,” Not-Muhammad told my sadly and my heart ached thinking about all the documentaries about the prison system, specifically Clinton’s 3rd Strike ruling of the 90s. Thank you Netflix for educating the masses.

“How much do you make?” I asked. Money always occupies my thoughts, sober or not, and the excessive tequila in my belly didn’t help to control my speech. Not-Muhammad didn’t mind my question at all (probably because I’m pretty) and told me he got that question quite frequently. Apparently, driving for Uber can be a very lucrative career. I took a mental note of this for my next downward spiral.

Toward the end of our expedition, his voice progressively got lower (an unconscious sign that he wanted to bone me). I profusely apologized for my brazen behavior explaining it was due to too much tequila and possibly an excessive amount of recently legalize marijuana. This brought a cheery smile to his White Uber Driver face, he had an idea.

“You know if you ever need some weed, I am your guy,” he told me with a goofy grin. To which I replied, “Honey I don’t buy weed, it’s called The Boob Rule.” This was my mistake. While true that attractive women should not (and do not) need to purchase Marijuana (unless they smoke in excess), this rule does not come without obstacles. For one, incessant flirting can only go so far. Eventually said girl becomes a tease or a whore, it’s a tedious line to walk on and as of recently I have conceded to purchasing the majority of my Cannabis (though the boob rule does get me excellent wholesale prices). Not-Muhammad had not heard of the boob rule and I explained it to him, “When you have tits like these you don’t buy weed.” This was perhaps going too far, but just like Karen Smith I have discovered that my boobs have magical powers.

“If you ever want some good weed, here’s my number.” Jackpot. Except I never take numbers, I only give them. When I told me this, he immediately asked for my digits. It wasn’t until I entered my bedroom that I considered the scenarios of smoking weed with my uber driver. It could only lead to one thing: sex. Did I really want to fuck my uber driver?

Kisses,
Juanita

Every Fairytale Has A Badass Bitch

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Not every fairytale has a happily ever after. But every good fairytale has a badass bitch. “But, not every princess needs a prince!” says the angry foul-mouthed lesbian who refused to stop tweeting #notmypresident during the Women’s march (and coincidentally threw paint on my faux fur vest last November). But feminist lesbians do have their point. Why do we, women, settle for men who do not deserve our affection?

It’s because we are primed to believe that we cannot be complete without a man. Men are at the center of our lives. Don’t believe us? Think back to your favorite stories as a child. Despite an abundance of fairy-tale themed picture books that featured a female lead, according to a 2011 study, “children’s books are dominated by male central characters… with the gender disparity sending children a message that ‘women and girls occupy a less important role in society than men or boys,'” The study, which looked at roughly 6,000 children’s books published between 1900 and 2000 found that male main-characters make up 57% of children’s books, while female main-characters make up only 31% of children’s books. But what about animal characters? You may ask, hoping that those might prove more gender neutral. But you’re wrong. Male animals make up 23% of the main-characters of books each year, while female animals take the lead in only 7.5% of books.

What messages are we sending girls? It’s no wonder why we settle for men that don’t deserve us, we are unaware of our own value and self-worth. The saddest part of this cliche is that every woman must have her heart broken before she meets her knight in shining armor. Tin-foil is no substitute for authentic Valerian Steel; just as cubic zirconia is never acceptable on an engagement ring unless you live below the poverty line (in which case I am eternally jealous that you’ve found love first because I still haven’t been invited to any of Patti Stanger’s famous match-making parties).

Worse even, is that these atrocious princes have been spoiled by women with no self-respect. They are used to women chasing over them. They are used to women dropping their plans and traveling half-way across the world for them.

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These men have been spoiled by women with no self-respect. This is a call to arms for every badass bitch to dump her undeserving fuckbuddy in search of a tinder fling who wants to do more than just hang out. Bonus points if he follows you around like a lost puppy. Except, that gets old fast so make sure he has a decent set of balls.

I learned the hard way that princes can be deceiving. As our Queen B: Blair Waldorf discovered first, princes are bat-shit crazy. They’re jealous, abusive, and frequently psychotic. Is the life of a princess worth it if you’re stuck alone and miserable in an ivory tower? Unless it’s some sort of fifty-shades-of-gray spinoff, being trapped and helpless is never a good look. There’s a reason why we buy comfortable heels (whenever possible), we need the freedom to run. Run far away from our problems and our undeserving men.

Hugs,
Roberta