her DNA has style

 

Bijou’s mascara runs into her worry lines, making her look even more worried.

She has beautiful almond-shaped eyes, very pretty feline features, dark hair, and light eyes, and that’s always a beautiful mix, and that ethnic ambiguity: you can’t tell if she’s Native American, Indian, Caucasian, or Black.

She’s a quadruple threat: she is hot and has a great walk, and she’s bi.

She openly flaunted a lesbian affair with a sexy, androgynous, all-American California babe with chick nails & a mega-watt smile.

Her only gripe with men is that she keeps having the same conversation with them repeatedly. If she ever gets three Rock Star 21�™s in her, she’ll usually admit to being tired of meeting people because they remind her of the ones she already knows.

When she’s lonely, she watches children’s faces.

When it rains, she burns incense and plays a peyote drum.

Last year, she did all her Christmas shopping at a gun and pawn shop, the year before at the Salvation Army, and the year before that at the dollar store.

While in junior college, she wrote a short story for her Writing as Communications class entitled “Stupor, Rigidity, Muteness, & Bizarre or Purposeless Activity.”

It began:  “He projected enough narcissistic magnetism to pull me in for an ill-advised one-night stand,” and ended with, “But I'm not real sure there was enough substance there to constitute a long-term relationship.”

She got an A+.

And she hadn't even slept with her professor.