Dear Helen of the big, poofy beehive hairdo,
I know your type. You waltz into bingo night acting all sweet and nice. You’re passing around the collection bin for supplies for our troops and making sure that there are enough hot dogs for everyone. You’re smiling sweetly at everyone and look- you even brought in a card and cupcake for old Mrs. Wrinkledface’s birthday.
Well guess what, Helen? I’m ON to you. You won the big jackpot two weeks in a row and I know you’re somehow in collusion with the bingo caller. I know it’s a conspiracy to keep people like ME from winning and keep people like YOU rolling in the dough, smiling sweetly but all the while laughing behind my back.
You wait until next week Helen. I’m going to win the progressive pot- $700 baby. I’m going to do a special little victory dance and laugh all the way home. And if YOU win it? If you win it, I’m launching a full scale investigation into your malfescence. You and your poofy beehive hair are going DOWN, lady!
God, I love bingo so much.
Z.
Oh – there’s a definite conspiracy going down with ol’ Helen… Slip a couple joints into that beehive and call the fuzz on her!
You know what the bane of poofy beehive hairdos is? A can of hairspray and a lighter. Instant blowtorch, IYKWIM. Chico says GRRRR to Helen!
You go, Girl!!