A broken boob , Corey Hart and planning a wedding. Back to bed, say I.

 I'm a 40 yrs old teeney bopper.
Aaaand I'm getting married...again.

Yaaaay..oh, wait are you one of those religions who don't own a mirror?
'Cause lady, you is old.

As we all know, a wedding is all about who looks the best and who gives the best gifts.
Just like a marriage is all about who out lasts the other and gets the other's stuff.
(I started putting little red stickers on his stuff the minute I said 'what eva'" when he proposed.)

Unh unh unh...don't give me any of that romance and love crap.
If I want romance I'll get it where any normal girl does.
In the Fire Swamp amongst the Rodents of Unusual Size.
11 1/2 points for the person who doesn't know what movie that is from.

The frenchmen and I have been together for 16 years and raised two kids.
Romance for us is a day when I get his name straight or remember his birthday.
(You would think I would remember his birthday then wouldn't you?  Now myself, I have a birthday week and hell hath no fury if the world doesn't correspond with that.)
I'm sorry what were we talking about?
Oh, yes getting married.

Since a lot of the people who were at my first wedding will be at my second naturally they will be comparing how I looked then compared to no-..

"No, no Moi, they'll just be filled with love and well wishes and won't even noti-"
"Excuse me?"
"Really, most people go to weddings and they'd be hard pressed to tell you any details about what the bride even wor-"
" 7 "
"Sorry?"
"7 missing crystals on the left side of the dress and two minute spots of red clay on the right side of her 9 1/2 foot train. Plus she must have had extra deodorant on because some transferred to her dads tux when he walked her down the isle"
"Oh"
"By the way, is that part of the design of your shirt that you have two spots of deodorant on it and a missing button or should I not be pointing that out?
"...never mind Moi, go back to your story."
"Thank you"

ANYHOO...

Since the whole wedding day revolves around me and how I look I decided that certain lady parts needed to be spruced up a bit.

Just reread that last sentence and realized I sounded like I might be wearing a crotchless wedding dress...which we all know is reserved for the fourth wedding.
Hey, wedding dress wow factors get harder to achieve the more we wear them so a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

I decided to go to a personal trainer for just one day a week.
Being the competitive person I am I lied about how fit I am.
He used a lot of odd terms that I didn't understand like isotonic, fartlek training (*giggle* sorry!) and over training.
I being the brilliant person that I tell you all I am, just nodded along and did what ever he said.
He started telling me about a chest exercise involving lifting barbells when his phone rang.

"Go ahead Moi, start those chest exercises. I'll be done of this call in a minute."
"Alrighty then"
I stared at the barbell, then stared at my chest, shrugged and got to work.
" Yeah, dude, I totally powered out 25 reps of 275...JAZUSHCHRIST! IGOTTAGOMAN!
WHATTHEHELLAREYOUDOING?
"What? You said it was an exercise for my chest so I just assumed..."
"How did you even get them to fold over like th- you know what, I don't really want to know?"

Needless to say I broke my boob.
Trainer boy tried to use fancy terms like pulled tendons, ligaments and mindless moron but to put it simply I broke my boob for a wedding dress.
It sounds kind of odd when I say it so with me being an 80's girl maybe I should put it into song.

See, I was born in the 70's but aside from wishing I was a boy for a year so I could ride Black Beauty('cause I'm guessing I thought the wee willy wanker had special powers for steering back then) I don't remember much about that decade.
The 80's though is burned into my memory.
Every breath I took went into squealing Stings name when he sang that famous song.

Young self -Mom, isn't that song romantic?
Mother to self- I think we will have to go over the whole psycho /stalker scenario again.
Self- Okay, but first I promised that man in the black van that I'd help him find his lost puppy.

When Morton Harkett from Aha, was trying to beat his way out of that cartoon stanza, my heart was in my throat aka my vajayjay, like the rest of you girls with our wind defying bangs.

What are you doing up there?
Just watching some videos, mom!
You're been looking at them for four hours now.
Mmmhmm...yup, you betcha yaaaa..ooooh yaaa.
(Coincidentally I started smoking at the same time)

And I got many a bruised forehead from wearing my sunglasses at night, ♪so I can, so I caaaan ♪, look as cool as Mr. Corey Hart.

"Beside that fact that I Corey, am awesomely cool for wearing my sunglasses at night, my willy wonka is this big!"

I tried to think what 80's iconic song would best fit my painful chesticle saga.
Of course Mr. Hart with his lovely pout (which I take as him saying 'Aww, poor Moi's chesticles")
was the winner. I may have changed a word or two but the tune is the same.

♪ I broke my boob last night, so I can, so I caaan, fit into a wedding dress I don't really want.
Iiiit's deceiving me.
Got my fat rolls tucked inside my v-ooops,
Iiiit's deceiving me.
I turn tothe mirror and saaaay♪

♪I can't masquerade as a bridal maid, oh-no
I'm forty yrs old
And my cherry hasn't been saved, oh- no
I don't remember
But it's been a while since I got laid, oh-no.♪

Okay, okay I am going to have to stop here as I'm supposed to be writing a short story for an anthology my writing group is doing.
Some other writers are doing poems or short stories, while as usual I'm asking the gaggle of writers if 'crotchless' is spelled properly.
I'm starting to think maybe something is wrong with the frenchmen for wanting to marry me.

♪ I just wrote this, you think I'm craaaazy, but don't call my number 'cause I'm way too laaazy'♪

It's Fall now which means my writing group is starting up again. We take the summer off because surfing the net/Facebook/ not watching  cat videos and writing for 7 minutes a day is  damn exhausting. 
So no more fooling around, getting butt in gear here on the 'Gentle Island'.


Blog interruption 

Can I just say that is the lamest slogan for a vacation spot ever.

 Let's go on vacation!

Wife- Where do you want to go?

Husband- How about Vegas, Sin City!

W-Or New Orleans, The Big Easy!

H-California, Surf City, USA sounds like fun too.

W- Wait, I got the perfect place.

H- Where?!

W- PEI, the Gentle Island.

H- AWESOME! A gentle vacation! Let's go, oh did you pack my hand cream and my fancy loofah, honey? (said no husband ever)

Honey, these loofahs are great!
What's that?...you're not supposed to use them for ...but it really feels good on my... you use it where?
Ok, yeah you're going to have to buy a new one then.

Back to irregularly scheduled blog.  

The writer's group meets once a month at the Queen St. Commons. (We also have the Queen St. Fancy but we aren't... you know. )

There was just four of us today but they are an amazing foursome.

The Writer/ The Actor/ The Businesswoman - as in she pays her mortgage with her earnings kind of writer. As in you could stick a memory stick in her ear while she sleeps and probably have about three different series started. (along with a little wax, hello!)

"Hey Moi(Mistress of Immodesty), let's get together to talk global warming and it's effect on goats."

"Okilydokily! What's a good day for you? I'm free..."

"Ummm, the rest of 2012 is pretty filled up for me. I have 4 books coming out, two screenplays, in a music video about goats and  teaching a writing course at a school along with a couple of seminars on self publishing and world domination, so how's about mid spring 2013?"

"...anyda...or next spring should be fine too. Let me just check my calender and get back to you."

The Publisher/ The Animal Whisperer/The Candy Sushi maker - the girl who decides that she likes a book and it should be published. Then why doesn't she just become a publisher, set up a company and do that? Oh, okay she did just that.
(Note: I like toast and peanut butter but the PB is on the top shelf and I'd have to stretch to get it so   ..meh. Since toast isn't the same without PB I'll just get back in bed and complain for an hour about how hungry I am....yeah, The Publisher and I are like two peas in a pod aren't we. Makin' an effort! Gettin' 'er done!)

"Hey Moi!"

"Wuuuuz up?"

"Did you get that short story done for the writer's group anthology?"

"Hell no! Haven't even come up with an idea yet? You?"

"Noooo, same boat you're in. It's hard ya know...."

"I know, isn't ...."

"...when you have to complete two other short stories already started, beta read a bunch of other authors books plus have a book launch to organize for my award winning author AND  make candy sushi. On the plus side I taught the injured parrot some geometry and the one legged snake is now kicking butt on the pogo stick."

"...it, yeeeaahhhhh....sigh."


The Lawyer/Writer/Magic Pony - from the little bit I understand she resolves crises, comes up with amazingly original book ideas  all while floating around as a magic pony. Okay, one of those seems odd. 
Fact checking commences...Bing! Finished.
Turns out she does resolve crises in a lawyer way. Check!
Her book sounds amazeballs, (which means awesome, mom) Check!
AND she is a Magic Pony except she doesn't float, silly me, she FLY'S is all. At least according to her roller derby teammates who help her fly around the rink at craziness speeds.

"Hey Moi!"

"Hey Toi!" (One third of foreign language dictionary is now been used up)

"That was an interesting book launch the other ni...hold on, looks like a crises going on over there. Back in one second."

"No problemo. I can entertain myself. Dooobedooo  ♪I never met you, and this is craaazy, Matt Bomer ,here's my number, don't care if you're gay. It's hard to look right, aaaat you baaaby, but here's my numb...♪" (I have to come up with a second verse to that before I send it to Matt. I haven't noticed any official looking mail arriving yet, so I'll just keep sending him those lette...)

Moi, can I have your address so I can send you a letter back?
WHAT? YESYESYES...!!!!
HEREHERE, TAKEIT!!
Thank you...Sargeant, you can now mail that restraining letter.
Craaap.

"I'm back, sorry that took so long but..."

"You were only gone for 3 minutes.."

"...I had to set up a crises intervention back at the office, plus finish a conference call, send my book to my editor and do a video as Magic Pony for junior high girls to keep them focused on  their inner  strength. So what did you do while I was gone?"

"Oh, geez, where to start? First I...oh, phone's buzzing. Never stops, got to go chat soon.

I'm looking around the table at them all as they busily type up their book, screenplay,sushi recipe, crises management skills and am amazed that I'm at the same table as them.
I wonder what they think when they look at me?



"Wish she would stop staring at us."
"I thought we were supposed to have the door locked with the lights off when she came a knocking?"
"I wonder if we can add our names to Matt Bomer's restraining order?"

Freddy Mercury, sneezing pandas and men in slingshots. It's a good month!

Most people when asked what their favourite time of year is would normally reply Christmas time or summertime or Hammer time...

Hey, it's a legitimate TIME. 
Anyone who agrees with me, kisskiss I love you and you look skinny. Have you lost weight?
The rest of you please focus on the picture below for 30 seconds without looking away.

That was your punishment, you are now going to have dreams about him for the next week. 

Anyhoo like I was saying, I try to avoid answering that question  because it just leads to more questions and phrases like 'power of attorney' and 'but doors that lock on the outside are a good thing, Mel '  suddenly start getting thrown around.
So I decided today to just get it out in the open once and for all.
                         
It is time for the best time of the year to begin.

               I am Queen of All and All I Sayeth is the Trutheth month.

Freddy Mercury says - You goeth girl! Being a Queen rocks!!
Actually he would probably just be muttering 'brainzzz,brainzzz' cause he's dead and would only speak as he tries to munch on your head all zombie like.

So 'I am Queen of All' month has been kept in the downlow for a while now.
This too is an actual time you naysayers.
No no no no, don't bother looking it up because it is only in the ' we are too cute and funny to have to make sense '  calender. Not the old ' I have wrinkles from boring old working and worrying about paying bills, not from laughing too much at baby panda's sneezing videos instead of looking for a job'  people calenders. 

                                       Hahahahhaha...*sniff* too cute! Sorry, there pops another cutie patootie wrinkle.

My fiance , the Frenchmen, says I should be putting 'decade' instead of 'month' but he is a member of the old wrinklyworrier group so he doesn't know any better.
You'll just have to take my word on it.
(It's okay, Frenchie I'll still hang out with you though.)

                                

I would tell you more about it right now but it is officially Nacho with a sprinkling of blue cheese (from being too old, not from being actual blue cheese) day and I have to be at the actual ribbon cutting ceremony. 
By ribbon I mean nacho bag and by cutting I mean ripping open with my teeth.
It's very stressful keeping all these ceremonies straight but since I'm the 'Queen' I have to suck it up and push ahead.
Will keep you updated on the following 34-93 days (see being the Queen I also get to decide how long a month is now. Sweet, right?) about various activities and events going on.
Just a sample of upcoming fun might include
How many days can I be in the same clothes 24/7 without anyone commenting week?
and 
The old blind fold smelling contest of 'Which one is the actual dog?' For some reason this one usually follows the previous.  
Go figure!
We usually end the month with my version of the Hunger Games but in my version you put two reality stars in a room and ...well, you'll see.
Let the Month begin and may the odds be...well, odd.

So if I was wearing a shark suit with sunglasses in the desert at nighttime I'd be just fine?

Actual conversation between customer and Sunglasses shack employee.

I bought sunglasses here a little while ago.

Ok

They were very expensive

Un hunh

The screen on them seems to be falling off the lens.

Hmm!

Is that normal?

Umm... let me think for a minute.

Alrighty. 

Let's see, do you wear them alot?

Yes, when I'm outside.

So you wear them in direct sun light?

Well ...yeeeah.

There's your problem.

Sorry?

That's your problem. You see if you wear them in direct sun light the screen starts to erode.

Whaaat?

If you wear them in the sun all the time, they start to erode.

Let me get this straight.

The.   sun.  is.  destroying.  my.  sunglasses?

Funny but irritating.

Same conversation at scuba shack except replacing sunglasses for a shark suit.

I bought a shark suit here a little while ago.

Ok

It was very expensive.

Un hunh

The chainmail seems to be falling off.

Hmm!

Is that normal?

Umm...let me think for a minute.

Alrighty.

Let's see, do you wear it a lot?

Yes, when I'm in the water.

So it get's wet?

Well...yeaah.

There's your problem.

Sorry?

That's your problem. If your wear your shark suit in water it deteriorates.

Whaat?

If you wear your shark suit in  water it starts to-

Well, you get what I mean.

Painful but irritating.

Pitt, Bolmer, Clooney and virginal underpinnings...how can your mind not let you read this?

I know I have to put up a post but...
I've been staring at this screen for about two hours, knowing it's time to give it up and nothing.

Hmm, 'give it up'...remember when you were 13, 14,19 21 and  decided it was time to finally 'give it up for Christs Sake!' but there was no one interesting enough to do it with.
(The first time is really just to get it over with and have a good story to share with your girlfriends over drinks 10 years later.
That and for the 'mind altering pleasure his throbbing member gives to our virginal underpinnings!')

Um, excuse me but isn't he supposed to be 'ravaging ' me about now?
Sorry, no, you're confusing Mr. Colbert with someone who actual has genitalia.

I was kind of old when I gave up the goose.

I'm a little wonky.
I've been down there for way too many years just honking to get out!

It was the day of my wedding...my, it was a confusing, scary time but my mother sat me down and chatted with me about the duties of a wife.
I nodded demurely then knelt down with  George holding my bible and turning the pages for me as I prayed. I found him a little chatty though, Ocean 11 this, villa in Italy that, so sick of dating gorgeous women, poor me poor me blahblahblah and it didn't help that Rickman and Pitt were arguing while making my grilled cheese in the kitchen.

Hello, look at this face. I'm so intense  and serious actory like.
Yes 'actory' is a real word!
 It's not?
Maybe it's Shakespearean, I've done lot's of that.
 I can act smart really really good...er, well? Good?

Yeah soooo, I'm all...ummmm.
(Psst, you were the sexiest man ali-)
Oh, yeah, Sexiest Man Alive!
Suck on THAT!
Naner naner naner!!

Finally Matt and I got married and climbed on top of our donkeys and retreated to our cloud on top of Mt. Olumpus with the other gods.

For the life of me I can't think of any  thing to say.
Seems all the blood in my brain has went elsewhere.

It almost didn't work out though, as though he was kind of dumb....*snort* as if that would matter. I've got the alphabet down pat enough for the both of us.

*ring ring*

It was kind of difficult getting a construction crew up on the cloud but some-

*ring ring*

-how we figured it out. Odysseus was very helpful with-

*RING RING*

WHAAAAAT?! I'm trying to tell a story here!

Yeeeaaah, it's Reality calling.

Oooh...

Yup, sorry but I couldn't ignore this one. The bible? Grilled cheese? Mt. Olympus? Seriously!

That's what you have a problem with? Not the men?

Nope.Just make it a little more realistic.

Ok.


There was a enormous flood that washed away everyone in the entire world but me, George, Brad, Alan and Matt.
After a year or so they got sick of  'interacting' with the monkeys and decided 'ah, what the hell' and asked me out.
The End.

That better?
More believable. Thanks!

Will never look at Thumper and Flipper quite the same again

Bootcamp, bootcamp,bootcamp....blahblahblah, does she talk about anything else?

Notice she doesn't have any pictures up of herself showing her results of all this bootcamping. 

Hmmph!

I'm so moving on from this blog, it is getting kind of  bori-

Sextoys

I'm sorry, what was that?

Sextoys

Baking powder? (42 1/2 points to whoever gets that movie reference)

Sextoys

Okay, attention has returned. Very good class! Now we will talk about the history of the lightening bug and it's effect on the ecosystem...no? You sure? Back to the sextoys? Fine.

I am the Sammy Davis Jr of bugs.
Yeah, baby yeah
My rear end lights up, that's pretty sexy right?

Usually there is a reason to bring up sex toys at a party.

Bachelorette parties

Swingers parties

Grandma's 90th birthday party.

My reason is that I was invited to a Bachelorette party over the weekend.

(Will discuss other parties on some other post.)

My first thought when invited was:

Strippers!

Rowwrrr...yeah, no. There is something off here.
Hmmph, can't decide if it's the delightful socks he's wearing
Or the fact that he's about 75 that is just not doing it for me.
Yeah, it's the socks.

Yaaay, I'll get my money folded in advance and start yodeling so my throat won't give out on me mid delighted scream. Right now I'm squeezing stress balls so my hands won't cramp up when I - 

Sorry, what's that? Ha, no really.....oh, you're serious.

Ok, so there isn't going to be a stripper. 

You're going to have what instead?

Hmmph.

There is going to be a 50 yr old lady holding up dildos and repeatedly saying the word clitoris with a lisp instead?

Yeah, that's pretty much the same.

Woohoooooo...yeah.

"Hi! My name is Sex Lady"

"Hello, my name is Mel-"

"Did you know that I came four times last night because of this uber gel?"

"Hunh, that is... nice?"
"Did you know that my husband and I have multipl-"
 "Oh, excuse me my phone is ringing"

"I don't hear anything"

"My ringtone is a dog whistle so you wouldn't hear it. I better take this outside, um... you have to meet my friend Cathy, she'd love to hear that story."

Sacrifice of a friend so as not to hear anymore orgasm stories from strangers...priceless.

We are supposed to have one hand out for lispy sex lady to put lotions on that cool down or heat up nicely in the hooha region. 

Strictly told to not lick that hand.

Other hand is put out for her to put down under munchable spreads on.

"Pleassse lick away ladiessss" says lispy sex lady.

Suddenly not hungry one iota.

(Hey, did I mention how much better this is than a stripper. Yeehaaw!)

My drunk friend to my left keeps mixing up her munchable and non munchable hands and has proceeded to think that she is having allergic reactions to everything while on my right is the young one who keeps watching my reaction to see what she should be thinking.

Am very tempted to do a When Harry met Sally table moment to mess with her.

Decided have already sacrificed one friend to Ms. Munchable orgasm lady, and don't have a lot of friends left who will admit to knowing me.

Lispy labia lady has finished her speech and now is the time you're supposed to  spend $400 on various toys that I can't get past the names of  let along figure out how to use. 

I mean when dressing I regularly try to push my head through the arm hole, so imagine where I would accidentally  put some of these things.

Me at Hospital- I have a Dolphin stuck in my (fill in the blank)

Nurse- Sorry?

M- I have a Dolphin stuck in my (you know the drill) and he is not being 'a diver's best friend' right now.

Nurse- Um, but shouldn't that go in your-
M- ...that's where the wrong end of the rabbit is. Can we just deal with Thumper at another time?

Bet you wished I talked about Bootcamp?
On the plus side any time you watch Bambi you'll be giggling over everything Thumper says.

 You're welcome.
Now remember when you comment about this:

Pet sanskrit, birthday carnage and I really want some M&M's NOW!.

There is a lot of blogs out there giving advice because as you all know if you have at least one working finger and  a computer then you must be an expert.
(Probably not on snapping your fingers, what with having only one fing...well, you know what I mean.)

So I have decided to post the one thing I know for sure to be absolute.

Do I know the sun will come up tomorrow? Nope, could be the dawn of the M&M for all we know.
Can an M&M really shake his booty that well to 'I'm sexy and I know it'? Only the non naked M&M knows.

She's made out of chocolate
Can talk without a neck
Her eyebrows float in mid air
Yet, she needs glasses?

Can you tell I really want M&M's...

Sorry, back to the exciting announcement!
So here it is.
The one thing I know FOR SURE!  



Do not forget your pet's birthday.





Can you read that?
I'm scared to put it any bigger just in case Crazeecat comes along behind me and reads this.
It is now 6 -3 in favor of the animals in our house and they have a lot of pointy bits poking out of everywhere with no fear of using them.

You're probably wondering why I felt the need to warn you all.
Actually I don't care if you were wondering or not I'm going to tell you either way.

Apparently we missed Sally the dog's birthday today.

Ummm.....Yaaa, ya did!

Awwww-

NoNONO!
No awww's!
Not allowed!!

She had a grand time, she took herself to a little restaurant called the compost bin and had a delightful supper of sausages, three day old burnt marshmallow and horseradish.
Then she decided to do a little Sarah 101 and redecorated the kitchen with the less unappetizing bits from the compost.
(To find pictures of things a dog would find unappealing from a compost bin, Google rotting zebra carcass after a week in a lions stomach. Picture that as your birthday cake and then think about what would be considered garbage compared to that.)

Sally then settled in for a comedy show after enjoying her dinner.

This is my comedy show hat....not it's not supposed to be  cute or funny.
It's just a damn fine hat, yeesh!

She watched as the owner (moi) asked the offspring in a sweet manner (shrieked) to take the Crazee cat
out of the kitchen down to the den to keep him from ruining Sally's masterpiece.
Said offspring then slipped in unseen fecal matters (resulted from clashing marshmallow and horseradish in my delicate flower Sally's stomach.) while carrying Crazeecat down the stairs.
Crazeecat decided that he must be falling over a cliff instead of slipping 3 feet off the ground and decided since death was just around the corner that he would practice his Sanskirt etchings up and down the offpsrings arm.

Besides transcribing Sanskrit, he also a fine phlebotamist
and makes a jimdandy cappuccino! 

(We think he was trying to draw the picture of the rotting zebra carcass for you all, 'cause he's just that darn sweet!)

Sally laughed so hard at this she decided to share this by telling everyone loudly and repeatedly at the open window.

Betty, the birthday girl's mom decided that she was a
little embarrassed of her daughter.
So she decided to remind me of her upcoming birthday by
depositing a little reminder(about a gallons worth) just so all this won't happen again.
Thoughtful, isn't she?

So what are your absolute's that you feel free to send out in the universe?
Comment below so I know what kind of experts are checking up on my blog.

गूद्निघ्त (Sanskrit for  Goodnight, see what CrazeeCat has taught us!)

Robin Williams syndrome, camel toe and rinsing brain out with soap...all in all, normal day.

There is a great Robin Williams joke where he has had a few too many and is pulled over by the po-po.
As the officer is walking up to the car RW is practicing saying a common phrase all so soberly.


'What seems to be the problem officer? What seems to be the problem officer? What seems to be the problem officer?..okay,okay, I'm good, here he comes.'


'Sir, license and registration'


'Vat zeems tabe depobem-  hic -ossifer?'


Utter fail.


I'm Robin Williams, without the drug or alcohol problem and about only half the body hair.


(Rowwwr, sounding kinda sexy aren't I?)

That's my sexy pose,
 Mixture of I think I have malaria ,feel my fore head
and
Eww, I think I touched something sticky.

That saying of 'You can dress them up but don't give them pie....or take them places that have pie, something like that'. I'm told that all the time.

Example #1 - At bootcamp as usual,(just realized that with the amount of time I talk about bootcamp that people who read this and don't know me must think I am TOIGHT....yeeeah, not.) and I'm looking like all the other boot campers. (To a degree.) 


t-shirt- check
yoga pants - check
ankle socks- check
sneakers- check
hair in ponytail- check
Go and sit in my normal spot
Start bootcamp.


Sounds normal doesn't it?


Behind the scenes


-put on tshirt...maybe I'll wear yoga tank top today, arms looking okay,not bad..sitting in car at the end of driveway, suddenly throw car back into park, race in and throw three sizes too big t-shirt back on. Hello, my old friend.
-put on yoga pants- hmm, they're loose on my waist but I seem to  still have the dreaded camel toe. Surely you can't develop a muscle on your..." 

...and the problem with my toes is what?

Spend 10 minutes googling 'Possiblility of exercise giving you  a muscular vajajay?'
Wondering if other's have this, spend couple of minutes picturing fellow bootcampers then realizing I'm  picturing if fellow bootcampers have muscular vajajay...rinsing brain out with soap.
-ankle socks- sneaking up to sleeping offspring and peeling off socks while they are dreaming about pie.
-sneakers- take out of locked curio cabinet since I spent more time and money on them then I did my first wedding
-hair in ponytail - wash hair, dry hair, pull it all back in messy ponytail so it won't look like I was trying...elapsed time of not trying: 40 minutes, really not giving a shit: 60 minutes min.
Go sit in normal spot- put away shiv, carried just in case someone had tried taking my spot
Start bootcamp.


So that's all fine, but then the Robin Williams syndrome kicks in.


Scenario- sitting on precious spot on floor waiting for boot camp to start
Have E-Reader up as shield so don't have to speak/embarrass myself.
Cute, fit instructor comes up(obviously not having crazy syndrome coursing threw her veins) and asks,


"You're a reading fan I see."


Normal response (I know this as I have read them in books, not because I ever give one)


'Yup, love books. Can't seem to put them down, obviously'
They both laugh politely and she moves on to the another normal person.

Yuuuup, pretty normal.
No crazy here, nope, nope nope.

My response (*resigned sigh*)


"You're a reading fan I see"


'More than my own kids, I would run you down before looking up from my book...seriously, dude I would'...awkward pause...followed by trilling insane giggle and anecdote about being a bit of a slut 20+ years ago in Montreal and how I know lot's of Spanish swear words from spanish men I slept with back then.....why this topic? No clue.

...then there was Vincent, then Alejandro and  Henri and  Maria  eep...umm, I mean Mario.
I'm sorry,what were we talking about?
Hello? hello?...Wonder where she went?

I now look at all the other non- camel toed, normal looking bootcampers and wonder if maybe there is one or two that have a touch of the Robin William's syndrome like me.


Anyone?
Anyone...just a smidge?
*resigned sigh #2*

(Liar, liar camel toe on fire)

Adiosfolks!

Put the lotion in the f*#$in' basket!(10 pts in huge giveaway if you caught the movie reference)

I tend to do weird things when I'm bored.
The End.












That's it.
That's the whole post.










Hello? I'm not kidding.








Dumdedumdumdum...








Go away.












NOW.




















Seriously












I'm feeling kind of sorry for you now since your life is obviously more boring than mine.


I mean not in the way you feel sorry for those kids on tv who haven't eaten for a week.


You- Oh my,  those poor little sprouts- (yeah, I don't know why I'm suddenly sounding like Dolly Parton either)- I just want to gather them to my delicate rock like bosom and feed them jelly donuts till they spew. Now where is my check book? My, that's odd it was lodged under my left boob. Wonder how long it was there?

Come here you cute little itsy bitsy darlings
Why I could just eat you right up, you all are so sweet!

Umm, you know what scary nice lady
We're good eating what we have right here.
Yummmy, sand....
Is she gone yet?

'Oh,those poor little darlin's whatever I can do to help I'll do it -
DING!- oh, my popcorn is ready, yumm, .
Now what was I doing....oh, yeah. True Blood marathon!


That's pretty horrible.


I mean not staying up to date on True Blood weekly just sends a poor life lesson to your kids.
Just saying.

Anyhoo back to feeling sorry for me...or you. Whatever, I can't keep track so let's just focus on me 'cause J'adore moi.
(Mistress of Immodesty folks, not Mistress of Fake Boob Bitches pretending to care about the rest of the world)


I was telling you that I sometimes do weird things when I'm bored.
It was brought to my attention by my eldest offspring when he commented on something in my living room.
Let's see if you notice it in the first picture.

Eek, needing some new furniture.There goes the frenchmen's holiday plans.
Damn, I'm a keeper.
You'd think I must be really good in bed.
You'd think it.
Anyhoo, did you notice the oddity?

Nope you say? (Ignoring you keeners in the back who already have their hands up, put them the hell down you stupid wankers. Hmm, another career to be crossed off list,Teacher)


Here's another picture closer up.

Anyone...?
 No, you boring twats. It's not that I need  curtains!
Imagine if that was it.
Wow, soooooo funny!
Going to tell everyone about this blog with the window that needed new curtains.
Conan, I have this writer for you. She does this bit with a curtainless window..
Bwahahaah.....ah, no.

Still nothing? (I swear I'll cut your hands off if you put them up one more time. Anything to do with children, crossed off career list.)


I'll give you a hint.

Betty, all around cutie pattotie, pee supplier ('cause wood floors can't get enough moisture especially in this hot weather) and distributor of....

Do you get what it is? Do you want a closer look, 'cause if you're still with this blog post you obviously have nothing better to do...

Yup, it's just as pretty close up. Kind of like  a Picasso.
It's a bowl of Picasso like dog hair.

Now this wouldn't be so weird if I had just recently brushed Betty but I did that three weeks ago.
 The weird part is that for some reason I don't want to get rid of it.


My offspring and I had a chat about it and the sad thing is that isn't the weirdest conversation we had that day.


OS - Nice decorating Mom. Hair bowl is the new black this season?


M- I like it, it gives the room texture.


OS - Like Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs thought the women screaming in the hole were just ambiance?


M- Yeah, like that. 


OS- (Eyebrows raised)


M- Wait, no....um..is this where you tell me I need to get out more?


OS- It's either that or stay in with a lock on the outside of your door.




See, aren't you wishing that you had left when I told you from the start?