Bank On It

The SJG:  The Blonde Years

Whenever my grandpa gave us money for birthdays or Hanukkah, he always said, "To the bank! To the bank!"  The SJG took his advice to heart.  Early on, I put every cent I earned babysitting, street-sweeping and weed-wacking, in the bank.  When I worked for a newspaper, I went "to the bank!  to the bank!" just like Grandpa told me to.  I deposited my humble checks and guess what happened?  They bounced.  Did I sit idly by and do bupkis?  Oh, hell's no.  I took the publisher to small claims court and they took him "to the bank! to the bank!"  That's right, they attached his lowly bank account till I got all my money.  Thanks to Grandpa, I'm now a multi-millionairess.  I've sued everybody I can think of; I'm kinda litigious that way.  Piss me off and look out.  Of course, I don't like to brag about my vast sums of gelt, but now that I'm buying my twelfth home in Sherman Oaks, or maybe it's my thirteenth, who can keep track, it's time for me to give back.  You heard me.  I'm handing out dough at the Sherman Oaks Galleria.  Today only.  It's strictly first come, first serve, people.  Why?  Because my Goddess DNA told me to.  Duh.  So look for the SJG at Mrs. Fields, somewhere between noon and five.  I'm working there now.  Free samples for everyone!