You know how when you’re a grown up and you say something and then you freeze because, holy crap, that’s something a grown up would say? You know what I mean? You reach adulthood the first time you say, “Her mother let her leave the house like that?” Double bonus points are awarded if you’re using spit to wipe schmutz off someone when you say it. Triple if you’re also wearing a pair of smart slacks.
Week before last, I used the words adorable and darling to describe fake, wallpapered pumpkins. I’ve admonished the undergarment choices (or lack thereof) of perfect strangers. When my husband complained of late-night-ice-cream-induced heartburn, I muttered something about rich food. Who does that? Other than women who play bridge every Tuesday, I mean.
My friend and I have this routine about the importance of clothes Fitting In The Shoulders. For the Geritol Set, all other fit issues can be fixed with the right seamstress, but not if the item doesn’t have good fit through the shoulders. We are also partial to clothes you “just throw on”. Oh, this? I just threw it on. Just pulled it right out of the dryer and threw it on. Being the kind of person I am–one with an aversion to both pants and irons–I like the kind of outfit a gal on the go can just throw on. Even if it makes me need to eat dinner at 4:30.
Anyway, this morning I was bemoaning the fact that Nancy Grace’s breasts were clogging up my Twitter feed.
I’m not a fan of Nancy Grace or her boobs. I will tell you if she ever says, “I’ve got more talent in my left boob than SoAndSo,” you need to listen up, brother. ‘Cause there could be a lot lurking inside them mammaries. Point is, before the proliferation of social media, I never thought Nancy Grace’s boobs would inhabit my world. But she’s on that dance show and supposedly she got all jiggy with it last night and BOOM! She fell out her dress.
Which reminds me of a story…
My Adorable Husband was once called to assist with a customer issue back when he worked retail. It was in the jewelry department. There was a couple there who were, um, on the larger side. So the couple’s going off on him and the whole time, her boob is flopped out of her shirt and onto the counter. AH is trying to resolve the issue, stay cool, and NOT STARE AT THE GIANT BOOB ON THE COUNTER because the mister half of the couple was a big fella. And a little pissy. I believe he ended up giving them a lifetime supply of smokey topaz cocktail rings just to get them out of the store.
Point is, here are some things I’ve said recently that I never thought I’d hear myself say:
- I’m still waiting. On the plus side, I’m making that bubble pop game my bitch.
- I would like to eat my weight in Cheetos, M&Ms, and zinfandel.
- Why, yes, yes, I did just spend 30 min. making a picture of Pimp Spiro Agnew.
- Meant to type vaccinated, typed cacciatore instead. Shut up. I really did. And I don’t even like cacciatore.
- It’s a tiny cake wearing panties. How could you not be all over that?
- Proof my honey is stressed out: I asked him to do me a solid and he DID NOT wiggle his eyebrows at me.
- How do you get cinnamon roll icing out from between the keys of your computer keyboard? I’m asking for a friend.
- I actually laughed so hard I leaked.
- Just realized when I get cranked up, my use of “dude” and “freaking” increases dramatically. This does not apply to my use of “asshat”.
- The decision to eat THEN ride might have been a bad one. #biscuitbelly
- Pot roast, bitchez
- The house just shook and power flickered. Anyone in [neighborhood redacted] have this?
- No more foods with “Buffalo” in the name for breakfast.
- Who forgets they have cookies? Me. I do. I HAVE COOKIES!
- I got 99 problems, and Tiger Woods’ penis ain’t one.
- See what happens when I don’t Twitter for a while? I miss awesome ideas like filling Swiffer w/ salsa!!
- Coffee and Cheez-Its: Breakfast of champions or pathetic cry for help? Discuss.
- Where are the pictures of flaming snowball farts? Nowhere.
- I will, by the power of Greyskull, write something tomorrow even if it’s a treatise on unicorn farts. You have been warned.
- And then did I “enjoy” using moist wipes to “feel extra clean”?
- Tonight, I will get knocked up with a food baby whose baby daddy is nachos.
- I did not understand the screaming chickens. Don’t they know they don’t have to be cut open to retrieve the eggs?
- @****** HOLY SHIT! What great birth control that was! Thanks!
- OK, y’all. I’m making a drinking game out of these Olympics somehow. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow, you’ll know I figured out how.
- In between Jon Stewart and Ricky Gervais. That’s how I want to die. Right there.