Ever get annoyed? Ever feel like someone needs to be told where the dog died? Or handed a crowbar and a tub of Elbow Grease to help them pry their head out of their arse? Congratulations--you've come to the right place.

And when I'm not commenting on the latest thing to piss me off, I'm trying to figure out my own twisted life. Because, hey, I'm like that.

On a gentler note: for anyone dealing with depression, anxiety, and other assorted bullshit: You are NOT alone.

And if you're looking for a laugh, search on the key word "fuckery." It's just my little thing (as the bishop said to the actress).

Monday, March 21, 2011

Oh, the Summer Time is Comin'...

"...and the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather..."

One of my favorite Irish traditional songs, a lovely, sweet ballad.
Happy Spring! And congrats to Madeline, Vicki's younger kidlet, on successfully reaching 13. Kudos to her older sister for not preventing it, either. ;-) (The two girls I speak of are two of the nicest, best mannered kids on the planet--just damn good kids, despite being teenagers. Three cheers for Nazi Parenting!)
Well, it's spring here in New England, and yes, despite having temps near 60F last week, it is dripping wet rain and snowing in places around the area. This is why I live here--don't like the weather? Give it a day, and you'll get a completely different season.
I can't be too annoyed with the weather (despite it giving me a miserable pressure migraine); there are buds on the trees and crocuses peeking up in the ground. Next up will be the forsythia, and then the magnolias, and once the magnolias bloom, the winter is officially vamoosed out of Dodge.

Well, as my fellow New Englanders know, spring is a fleeting thing here in the Northeast. We rarely get a "real" spring here--usually we get Winter/Summer/Spring/Winter/ Summer/Spring/SUMMER. Just like that. The weather goes from requiring a leather jacket to shorts and sandals. A tad annoying, but there is is.

And that means it's bathing suit weather!
Shoot me.
I am not much of a swimmer. Don't get me wrong--I LOVE the beach. There is nothing lovelier than the beach at night, taking a stroll in the surf, maybe skinny dipping... However, I'm not really a bathing suit person, for very obvious reasons.
Yep, we're back to the fat chick discussion. Because I was asked the other night if I'm the type of fat girl who wears a bikini. I almost had to pry my own eyes out at the thought of me in a bikini. Seriously. This body is NOT meant for a bikini--I don't care how much weight I lose, I am over 40, gravity has set in (I mean, THESE tits in a bikini top? I'd friggin' garrotte myself!), cellulite has established a firm beachhead on my thighs... A bikini? Nah.
I found a very tasteful one piece and promptly went out and bought a pair of swim shorts because I am not going to fry anyone's eyes with the sight of my saggy baggy thighs in all their bright screaming white glory under a summer sun. I mean, I have a little dignity.
I haven't found a good t-shirt to complete the ensemble, however. Because I have yet to dispose of my elephant wings.
See, this is the reality of getting older--accepting that there are things you REALLY shouldn't do, even though you can. I mean, yeah, they sell bikinis for women my size.
Why, I don't really understand.
I also don't understand tube tops on fat women.
Rolls should only be seen in a bakery case, NOT flopping over your waistband.
And this goes for fat guys, too. Honey, I don't want to see the bags of groceries in front of your six pack, and if your tits can be measured in a cup size bigger than a B, don't be wearing a skin-tight shirt.
DIGNITY, PEOPLE! Leave the skin-tight, zero to the imagination to the hot, cut kids.
Because their time will come. *insert evil laugh here*
Today's image is a classic Maxine one-panel as drawn by the talented John Wagner. I love Maxine; there are days I think I AM Maxine.

No comments:

Post a Comment