-Possible copious whining about being forced to participate in a camping trip. That involves an actual TENT. And the OUT OF DOORS. And people who are ENTHUSIASTIC about same. (Long time readers know that I wilt easily and have little tolerance for either extreme heat or cold. See: Ice Storm '09. In addition, my 47 necessary daily beauty products/routines do not lend themselves to wilderness situations.).
-I'm going to a Godsmack concert. In the middle of Godforsaken Missouri. For God's sake.
- Vajazzling. That's right, dear readers, time marches on and so do the relentless demands of the modern crotch. Gone are the days of simple decisions relating to trimming or landing stripping, shaving or waxing. Now the thing has to be stark naked and glitter like a disco ball. But never fear! If you realize too late you've gone a pube too far with that hastily performed Brazilian, there's always the merkin. And, yes, for those of you keeping score: that would be a squirrel for your beaver. We must discuss.
- I'm Suzanne and I'm obsessed with eating at Cracker Barrel. ("Hi, Suzanne...")
- Shooties. I'm in the "yes" camp. You should be too.
So, there you go.
Last, but sure as hell not least, if you're reading this outside the confines of the Bluegrass State and have a death wish, now is a really good time to wander across our state border and start talking smack about the UK Wildcats. For those of you who have been languishing in a deep coma or trapped in a remote cave under something very heavy lately, the next big game is Saturday--our half of the Final Four. Lest you wonder the import of such a game in these parts, both my mother AND GRANDMOTHER (90 years young), have inked this event onto their calendars. And, people. We are not sports fans. We are people who hear "Gonzaga" and wonder if that might be a really nice cheese? On a much more widespread note, trust me when I say: there isn't a man in the Big Blue Nation who isn't engaged, on some level, in a serious bro-mance with (say it with me): COACH CALIPARI. I know I'm right because they don't even DENY IT WHEN YOU ASK THEM. I know I speak for all of them when I say...
SSSSSSSSSSSSSCHWING! (I'm with you, dude. 1.5 million stiffies can't be wrong.)
GO CATS!
6 comments:
Hahaha...welcome back, Bizzy! It's been far too long since you've posted. And congratulations on the Suzanne Shangria!!!
1. Your blog is awesome. Write more and bigger. Bookly or something.
2.Congrats on the eponymous drink. I must have one. I may make one, but I must also have the Named Drink.
3. Regarding vajazzling: If there is a god, I will die before my husband. I have neither denuded nor bejewelled Miss Vajay, and I have a distant but none-to-fond memory of the post-cesarean "of course we have to shave it, because...uh...you know, uh...you never know" grow-back-itch. I mean really--is this now like shaving your legs? If you don't do it, are you a dirty hippy? I resent being presented with new grooming rules at this late age of 29. Although, I suppose that since I've never dyed it, I could donate the proceeds to that wig company...talk about Locks of Love!
4. My rule on camping: Holiday Inn = Camping. That's as close as I get.
THANKS for your kind words, Nicole!
I know, I can't believe either the speed of the evolution of crotch grooming styles/demands/expectations (remember the eighties? SO uncomplicated!?) and have had (and written about) many a lively conversation with people about the phenom...I mean, how is one supposed to know all this? And how does one--with a straight face--present bedazzled lady bits? I have no idea. But I do enjoy the sociological research ;)
Yeah, I mean, wouldn't a bedazzled lady bit sort of imply that you left the house intending to show it somehow? Think about that date...How is one to portray oneself as a blushing virgin "oh my goodness, I've been swept unintentionally into your manly sexual advances..." when the unveiling will reveal a "Bowm chicka BOWM BOWM" reality? Or does one no longer play coy? Is the script now, "Yes dinner was nice, but TAKE A LOOK AT THIS DELICIOUS DESSERT!" Like you, I find this fascinating.
Welcome back my friend. I reserve my comments on the bejewelling issue....
Nicole, I just laughed until I cried about "THIS DELICIOUS DESSERT"!
Maybe, it's all about OPTIONS. Like, one night, you feel all Samantha Jones and want to brazenly sling around your jewel encrusted business and then, THE NEXT night, say, you go all "Little House on the Prairie" and glue on your merkin?
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