Lingerie and Man Boobs
Yeah, I know. But I have a good excuse. I was on a mission last night. It was lingerie Tuesday at the local skank bar and it was absolutely necessary that I abduct, at squirt-gun point, my two favorite local scribes for an unofficial Press Club meeting. I'm not exactly sure why, but I felt it my responsibility to show these "noobs" the other side of the tracks. The West side if you will. The discarded must pile of a quaint little wine country.
Even though I spent most of the morning in the bathroom at the office, it was totally worth it. In addition to learning about where to find the hidden porn on these guys computers, I learned a couple of less-important things.
Drinking on a Tuesday night isn't a smart idea if you have to work on Wednesday morning. I think I also learned that I can't drink like I used too. Since when does a few drinks give me a nasty hangover? I think someone may have slipped ipecac into my whisky.
So, that was for yesterday, even though I technically learned it this morning. Today I learned that:
Lavender and tea tree oils can make boys have boobies.
A few weeks ago I read that something called sodium lauryl sulfate, which is found in most soaps and shampoos, is processed in the body like the female hormone estrogen. (Click above to learn more about why this is bad)
So after learning that, we spent a bunch of money at Whole Foods (Whole Paycheck according to cousin Jason) buying shampoo, soap and deodorant that is SLS free. Of course what we bought was lavender shampoo, tea tree oil shampoo, and lavender soap.
So fuck this. I give up. We're all going to die with big boobs. I don't care.
3 comments:
What a selective memory you have. How could you fail to mention your inspired conversation with one of the lingerie models, in which you discussed whether stickers resembling stars could be comfortably removed from one's nipples? Or that a woman (of the "ridden-hard-and-put-away-wet" category) felt compelled to share with us, completely unprovoked, the intimate details of her three-way, in which she discovered that one of her lovers was "too big" to accommodate? Or even that, upon squirting tequila into a friend's mouth, he expressed horror that said tequila might be "laced" before explaining, in a monologue that lasted several minutes, his most recent unwanted experience with LSD?
It's not surprising to me that you woke up with a hang-over. What surprises me is that none of us woke up in a jail cell.
Actually darling, the stickers were hearts. That much I remember. And that someone in our group bears a foreskin, and it's not me.
And the guy with the new looking, bright orange, leather Jagermeister jacket who kept staring at me. How many bottle caps did it take to get that beauty?
And of course my brand new (I hope) spider-web lingerie, courtesy of the innocent LSD tripper, whom is also my friend and amazing co-workers husband, my lovers good friend, and my sons future father-in-law.
Oh, and that Daedalus has a shoe thing.
We may all die with boobs, but I don't think they will all be "big". I wish I could have seen Donna in action Tuesday night. I've seen her in action before and it sure is fun!
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