Today I go to work in a dress that I love, but is probably a little bit on the short side, and does nothing to hold in my burgeoning gut. This is why I wear support undergarments. But since the dress is a little on the short side, if I catch a little breeze, my support secret will be exposed. This makes for a fun day at work, slouching, tugging my dress down, and hiding out in my cubicle.
After work, I had to stop at the grocery store. I’m getting out of my van and tugging on the dress, thinking maybe it’s time for a retirement party for this one. It’s done its time. It’s paid its debt to society. It still has a small and barely noticeable mayo stain about the size of a quarter from when I dropped a Whopper Jr. on my lap about a year ago. It is with these thoughts going through my head when I walk into the entrance of the grocery store. Heading out of the store in the other direction is a 20-something guy, decked out in basketball shorts and jersey, hat cocked askew on his head, large gold chain. He looks me up and down, literally LICKS HIS LIPS, and says “Mmm mmm mmm, you lookin’ fine TODAY.” Read more…
Technically, it should be Whoreticulture Friday. For those of you expecting a WF, here is your blog post: Kim Kardashian. Period.
In other news….
Whazzup, Bitches!?! I can’t believe I haven’t even been to the blog since Dec. 26, so Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Boxing Day, etc. I hope you all enjoyed a lovely holiday – mine was fan-effing-tastic, mainly hung out with my Chiclets ate, watched movies, ate, drank wine, ate, read a couple of books, ate….you get the idea. One of our family traditions is that we always do a 750-piece or more jigsaw puzzle. I know how to party, no? I should note that Current Husband refuses to do puzzles, and he takes to our geriatric nursing home bed with his iPad in protest. He’s like Gandhi without the hunger strike.
Oh yeah. I like to party.
Something else we did as a family this year is watch all eight Harry Potter movies from Dec. 21 through Dec. 26, because nothing says Christmas like Voldemort trying to kill you, and the death and resurrection of your favorite wizard. We pulled out our IKEA sectional couch that lifts into one large couchy pad, covered it with comforters, popped popcorn and opened peanut M&M’s (they go together like rumalumalumakadinketydinkdedong), and all five of us plus George the Superpet got on it and got our Harry on. After about the third movie we started speaking to each other in Madonna accent British voices, and saying things like “You have to use the loo? Brilliant!” Another favorite we’re still using is the Hagrid, “I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.” It was a total Slackerfest.
Yay for the British!
For New Year’s, we told the kids they could all have sleepovers, so we ended up with a total of 15 kids in the house, five of whom spent the night with our three. CH and I drank Gruet and ate more cookies and played Scrabble (For the record, I won two games out of three. We are cutthroat competitive with Scrabble. I will cut a bitch for taking my Triple Word Score.) Some folks stopped in for a drink right at midnight, and we slept in the next morning. And then drank awesome coffee and ate monkey bread and egg casserole. Yum. It was all perfection. Until the Wii Fit board RUINED EVERYTHING. Read more…
Last night, as I was making homemade cinnamon rolls for my co-workers (because I am a GIVER, folks, and not because I personally was craving cinnamon rolls) I was thinking to myself,
“Self, why are you ceaselessly stuffing your pie hole this holiday season? You know your metabolism is completely shot. You know your moustache shows up better when your upper lip is swollen with butter. You know your Spanx are starting to tear. What gives?”
I’ll tell you what gives. I’m eating my way through the Apocalypse. Pass the Mayan-aisse, make it a double, with sprinkles. And shake a leg, the world is ending in 72 hours!
Actual forecast for rest of the week. Am I going to need a jacket? Read more…