#43 Los Angeles

Hot Bitches love Los Angeles.

In part three of our travel series entitled "Oh, the Places They'll Ho," we discuss Los Angeles. Randy Newman loves L.A. and so do HBs but HBs love L.A. for reasons different than "Rollin' down the Imperial Highway - With a big nasty redhead at my side." Los Angeles, City of Angels. It might be more appropriate if it were called Los Putas Caliente. L.A.'s got everything an HB could ever want. Plenty of appletinis flowing to fuel the urge to dance on elevated surfaces and plenty of douchebags to purchase said appletinis. Rodeo Drive is a Mecca for the HB. A magical place where one can purchase plenty of Tiffany collars, designer pants with words on their juicy asses, really big (really really big) belts, overly large (really overly large) sunglasses, and the list goes on. Thanks to L.A.'s driving culture, it's more acceptable for HBs to not only wear heels that would under normal (real world and not plastic fantasy land) circumstances be inappropriate, but because one has to drive in order to get anywhere in L.A., Driving While Under the Influence (something normally frowned upon) is considered the city's pastime, next to counting calories/drunkorexia. No such thing as unnecessary plastic surgery here. Nosejobs? As commonplace as a teeth cleaning. Implants? You got something that needs stuffing and Dr. 90210 will pump as much saline into it as you want, and then some. Rib removal? The perfect way to get an even slimmer waist after multiple lipo sessions (in which those precious lipids were moved into an HBs lips). And the job market? A veritable cornucopia of opportunities ranging from actress, porn star, shotgirl, laker girl, and the list goes on. Yes, the TMZ (thirty mile zone) is a land of wonders and excitement. Go forth and stake your claim. Go west, young HB!

#42 South Beach

Hot Bitches Love South Beach.

In part two of our travel series entitled "Oh, the Places They'll Ho," we discuss South Beach. "Miami" is Spanish for, as far as I can figure with my less than rudimentary knowledge of Spanish, "my friend" and oh, what a friend it can be to the HB. Documentaries like "Nip/Tuck" (that's on Discovery Health, right?) show us that South Beach is filled with pretty people with the highest and most noble of aspirations, to be prettier people. Groundbreaking shows like MTV's short lived "8th and Ocean" (short lived because it's reality was just way too real for the average viewer) showed us the inspiring lives of young people with nothing but their wits trying to make it in the grueling world of posing for pictures, or else face becoming homeless in what is considered to be clearly among the most inhospitable environments for a young, goodlooking homeless person. With the media providing us with such an honest look at South Beach, its no wonder that HBs want to test their hottness meddle in such a tough, sink-or-swim city. But HBs, no need to fear. You will make it. There's always the last resort for the HB in SB to achieve fame and fortune. The greatest gift that Miami has given mankind. No, I'm not talking about the lyrical greatness of one, Mr. Flo Rida (whose love of Bootz Wit Da Furr is well documented). No, clearly the greatest gift was provided by one, Mr. Dirty Sanchez and his world famous BangBus. If you aren't aware of this bus, one more magical than even Ms. Frizzle's, google it and catch a ride.

#41 Vegas

Hot Bitches love Vegas.

In the first of our travel series entitled "Oh, the Places They'll Ho," we discuss Vegas. Lots of people love Las Vegas: alcoholics, compulsive gamblers, hooker lovers, alcoholic compulsive gambling hooker lovers, Guidos, Japanese businessmen, douchebags but none love Vegas more than HBs. While old school Vegas was built for the Rat Pack/Goodfellas type, modern day Vegas is an HB mecca. Free booze, douchebags, high end shopping, cheesy club-like atmosphere, lots of money, loose morals, Vegas can fulfill any HB need. In Vegas an HB can let go of what little self-restraint she has remaining. Afterall, Vegas is the childhood home of one of the greatest HBs of our generation, Miss Jenna Jameson. Even Jessie Spano fell into the Vegas trap and look how she turned out. We all know how she can get so excited, so excited... It's okay Jessie, after all, just look to that new instant comedic classic for some solace: "What Happens in Vegas"... well, you get the drift.

#40 Dancing on Elevated Surfaces

Hot Bitches love Dancing on Elevated Surfaces.

The origins of the HB desire to dance while on an elevated surface are murky. There are cave paintings of Cave HB's dancing on mammoth carcasses prior to being knocked out by a Cave DB for some good old fashioned fornicating (the wooden club was the prehistoric equivalent to the roofie). Cleopatra on her many booty call visits to Rome for Marc Antony would dance on the edges of aqueducts. One of the rumored uses of Stonehenge was to provide a platform for Hot Druid Bitches (Druish English Princesses or DEPS). Everyone remembers Rose from Titanic dancing on that elevated stage down with the common folk in steerage. Modern HBs site one movie in particular as their greatest influence on their desire to dance on high: "Coyote Ugly." Coyote Ugly influence on our society is so great that it's nearly immeasurable. From bringing Piper Perabo into the HB spotlight, to legitimizing Tyra Banks as an actress and fierce media icon, to popularizing a little bar in NYC into a chain takes the best things about Hooters and TGI Fridays and nightlife and merges them into a sum greater than it's parts. I know, sounds unbelievable, but believe it. The greatness of Coyote Ugly has spilled over into the highly acclaimed realm of Reality Television with "The Ultimate Coyote Ugly Search" in which singing-dancing female bartenders compete for a position with the company's traveling troupe, and a $50,000 prize. Ladies, don't let anyone tell you that you can't make your wildest dreams come true. Especially if you dream about being about popping bottle caps off with your cleavage.

#39 Various Types of Diaries

Hot Bitches love Various Types of Diaries.

The perfect form of literary/cinematic expression and appreciation that is acceptable to the HB is the diary. The diary allows the HB to write on her favorite topic: herself. From writing about how cute her new Dooney and Bourke purse is, to how she is so much like Holly from the Girls Next Door, to her sexual fantasies and conquests (HBs, come on, admit it.), to how men are all assholes (just letting you know, ya'll have a tendency to cherry picking d-bags). Such is the stuff of that an HB's literary soliloquies are made of. Arguably even more entertaining than writing one's own diary is reading or even better (easier) watching another girl's diary unfold before her. A few examples of the diaries that HBs thoroughly enjoy.

The Princess Diaries - Every HB dreams of being an actual princess. Clothes, money, jewelry, servants, being considered better/more special than normal people, HBs love all of this. While normal girls/woman outgrow their childhood fantasies of being a princess, HBs perpetuate their fantasy until they're swept up by their Prince Douching so they can live vapidly ever after.

The Nanny Diaries - Being a nanny? Not usually acceptable to an HB. Being a nanny to rich little kids in Manhattan? Much more acceptable. Most girls babysat at some point and most can be honest and admit, it's a pretty f*ckin' easy gig. Put the kids to bed, have house and a kitchen to yourself, have a place for a few hours to practice hooking up with d-bags. Such is the way of the high school HB. So, a movie like the Nanny Diaries appeals with both a nostalgia factor as well as the enticing glamour through a Hollywood lens of the Upper East Side.

Bridget Jones' Diary - HBs do love fantasy. And clearly, nothing is purer fantasy than the idea that a fat girl can find love. Especially with a Dude with an Accent. (see post #30)

The Diary of Anne Frank - required reading for a Jewish American Princess in training to remember that there was a time when her people did not dole out Tiffany Chokers and nosejobs to every JAP on her Bat Mitzvah. We all know she would have been one Hot B if the Nazi's didn't get to her. May she rest in hottness potential.

#38 Drunkorexia

Hot Bitches love Drunkorexia.

Today, on a very special SHBL, we discuss "Drunkorexia." Now, many a young person has been under a tight budget and chosen booze over food (at least many a young 1st worlder, I dunno how many 3rd worlders have given back their cup of rice from a UN relief worker and said, "Bitch, give me a bourbon."). But HBs (and meathead Douchebags who spend half their waking life in the gym "getting big") have taken choosing booze over food to a whole new level. "Drunkorexia" has been discussed by news sources including the New York Times as well as via a video post by Breitbart. This article and video frame the issue pretty darkly. But THEN there's this other New York Times article on how it's just how young people these days are making a go at that pricey big city living. Since the Drunkorexia Times article was written in March 2008 and the Bright Lights Big City Times article was written in May, we can safely make the assumption that the NYTimes has clearly come to its senses and realized that Drunkorexia is awesome! "Eating cheap lunches and skipping dinners — not just to save money, but so that drinks pack more of a punch and fewer need be consumed. But there are smaller measures, no less ingenious, that round out the lifestyle. These young people sneak flasks of vodka into bars, flirt their way into clubs, sublet their walk-in closets, finagle their way into open-bar parties..." Finally! The mainstream media realizes how brilliant young people, HBs especially, are in getting funding and fueling their alcoholism. American ingenuity at its finest. Who says we're falling behind? We're clearly falling flat on our face forward. (*Note: the blogger must admit a tinge of hypocrisy with this post. I, SHBL blogger, has dabbled with Drunkorexia from time to time, but hey, the first step is admitting you have a problem. The second step, at least for the ladies is to look at this picture.)

#37 The Token Gay Dude Friend

Hot Bitches love The Token Gay Dude Friend.

This blog has previously analyzed the HB love of the TFF or Token Fat Friend (see post #12). Well, HBs love of tokens isn't limited to simply a rotund gal pal who makes them look even hotter by comparison. While HBs love Douchebags (see post#4), the constant getting hit on can be a little off putting for the HB when they aren't in the mood for having fake tanner, hair gel, or excessive levels of Abercrombie Fierce cologne dripping all over them. Thus, comes the Token Gay Dude Friend. The TGDF and the HB have a symbiotic relationship, like sharks and remora (those sucker headed fish that stick to the sharks, eating parasites off them. I saw that on an episode of the Magic School Bus.). The TGDF can act as a confidante for the HB, someone to complain to about their Douchebag boyfriends (though the Nerdy Dude Who's Been Best Friends With Them Since Childhood can also fulfill this role. Sorry Dawson, Pacey gets Joey.) or to discuss sexual techniques/experiences. Or the TGDF can simply be a lapdog during shopping sessions, one who is eager rather than a wallowing douchebag in the corner wearing sunglasses, popped collar and iPhone earbuds. The TGDF in return gets a "beard," an HB that can keep up the illusion of straightness in front of his Republican parents. That's f*ckin' teamwork. Plus both can share their passion for Appletinis.

#36 Apparently, These Days, Wearing Really High Waisted Pants

Hot Bitches love Apparently, These Days, Wearing Really High Waisted Pants.

From the late 90's through 2007, waistlines got lower and lower to the point that Whale Tail was spotted at every mall, bar, club, sporting event and NOPI Nationals event. Then, something happened, something so counterintuitive that this blogger continues to be perplexed to this very day. Waistlines instantly jumped a solid foot and a half. The 70's were back in swing, unfortunately, only in regards to the wearing of denim and not the more important former trend of coke fueled, pubic hair flowing, sweaty disco orgies (what has America become?). While the trend might have worked for Farrah Fawcett, Jaclyn Smith and that other chick on "Charlie's Angels" (aka 3 Hookers with Guns), these days, for the most part, this fashion anachronism is confusing to the point of throwing off my equilibrium inducing feelings of nausea and vertigo (not the good kind). HBs, if you're trying to induce boners amongst all men around you, dressing up like my middle-aged to elderly high school biology teacher isn't very effective. Note: this blogger has no qualms with high waisted skirts, probably because of wishes to be a 1950's-60's ad man.

#35 Complaining About Getting Hit On All The Time

Hot Bitches love Complaining About Getting Hit On All The Time.

A little attention is usually nice and flattering. Exchanging glances and smiles on subway always helps to start your day the right way with a little pep in your step. HBs are a different animal than you or me. Their natural response to a carefree smile toss their way is to do the Roll-Eye-Sigh combo. Dismissive hair flips or stifled laughs might be tossed in for good measure. No. This isn't rude. It's just an appropriate response to all the attention that HBs get all the time. Whether at work (ha, just kidding) or at the beach, club, bar, mall, spa, cruise, etc, HBs get so much attention, particularly from men (whether its a douchebag grinding on them or an average joe tripping over his jaw), that they get annoyed. It makes sense. Too much ice cream will give a person a stomachache. Too much attention will make an HB vomit (and not even the good kind of vomit). In order to combat this, HBs take up a favorite pastime of Bitchin' 'N Moanin' and focus it on the flirtatious overtures that dudes attempt. "Ha, did you see him try and say "hello" to me? What a loser!" "OMG I KNOW!!" "Another guy smiled at me. Can you believe it?!" "I mean, you do look HOTT" "I know, but really." Guys, save your apples for someone that doesn't immediately think "Why didn't you buy me an appletini?"

#34 Getting Stuff from Dudes for Free

Hot Bitches love Getting Stuff from Dudes for Free.

She take my money, well I'm in need
Yeah she's a triflin' friend indeed
Oh she's a gold digger way over time
That digs on me
Jamie Foxx and Kanye West clearly know a few HBs. The bumpin' lament that they sing is an old tune but still rings true. HBs love stuff. Free stuff. Especially from dudes. Whether it's an appletini (see post #11), or a Tiffany choker (see post #33), or a pair of expensive Overly Large Sunglasses (see post #2), HBs will take trendy, expensive stuff via a couple of methods of manipulation. Method #1) Being Cute/Playing Dumb - plenty of dudes enjoy playing the role of the provider, taking care of their HBs every need. The act of coddling HBs helps these kinds of dudes inflate their ego and/or other things. HBs usually learn this method of manipulation while young thanks to their interactions with Daddy (see post #7). Method #2) Sex - this is the method that the HB utilizes primarily during the peak years of their "hottness." The promise of procreation is strong within most humans and the idea of procreating the sh*t out of an HB is even stronger. HBs will allow themselves to get hit on, date, marry, divorce, remarry a Douchebag as long as he can provide anything along the gift spectrum, from the Appletinis to unlimited unnecessary surgery. Remember ladies, it's only prostitution if cash is received. Exceptions include cash tucked in birthday, Christmas, Valentine's Day, Hanukkah, Labor and Arbor Day cards.