Bubbie Love

So yesterday morning, I went for a scooter ride in my bikini.

I mean, that's not all I was wearing. (Bitch, please!) I may be many things, but giant attention-seeking whorebag isn't one of them.

At least not anymore.

Okay. So, I was going over to Ro's house for a dip in the pool (Which, by the way, Universe, I've been visualizing MY house with the pool for months now and it ain't happening. WTF?). And, you know, cars start honking at me, and I'm like, yeah, I'm hot.

And then I realize that maybe it's not that I'm hot, it's that the top of my dress is down around my belly button (whatchu know about Susan?) and my pushed-up bubbies (thanks, VS Miracle Top!) are, like, out there for all to see. I mean, they were at least partly covered by my bikini top. But still out there.

Shazam.

So I move my hand off my lap. You know, the hand that is preventing my dress from flying up over my head, and attempt to pull my dress back up over the goods, simultaneously showing everyone some bubbie AND privacy love.

At least my bikini was on this time, and at least Neighbor Girl waxed my bikini line (you know your Bitch is sweet when she'll get down and dirty for you) so no one saw anything except maybe some saddle bag cellulite and possibly some nips.

To summarize: I didn't learn my lesson the first time and I flashed a bunch of random strangers.

Again.

This does not make me a giant whore.

Because everyone knows whores wear skanky shoes. And I was wearing flip-flops, which cancels out the entire slutty story.