(Photo courtesy of the Boob Lady's brother... This is my nephew.)
I really need one.
I've had the worst run of bad luck lately and I really need a hug.
You know all about my troubles with Carl, the shitmobile, but there's more.
You're thinking: "How can some poor schmuck have so much bad luck?"
I don't know.
On Thursday, I'm making my regular trek to work, driving the tuna can, listening to my iTrip, minding my business.
I pull into the parking lot, remove the iTrip from its holding area, pop it into my purse like I always do, and head into the store.
When I try to re-activate the iTrip, it won't work.
No signal, no little red "ON" light, nothing.
I am on the verge of tears since I'll have to listen to The Motown Series AGAIN.
Don't get me wrong, I love me some Motown, but everyday? NO! I can't take it.
I know all the songs, I know all the words, I even have fucking dance steps down pat.
I can't hack it.
I turn on the radio instead.
This is a major faux-pas.
I don't care.
Jump to Saturday.
I get to work without incident and proceed to grab my cell phone.
Wait a minute...
It's not in my jacket pocket.
I find it in my purse, grab it without putting too much thought into why it was in there, head out for a breakfast sandwich, and proceed to turn it on.
I'd fully charged it last night so it was ready to go.
It turned on for a fraction of a second and what I saw of the screen looked like an aquarium.
A totally trippy aquarium since my background scene is a bare tree branch kind of wintery scene.
Very barren, very white, very cool.
It looked like it had started to flood.
Well, I call the cell phone store that's across the hall (I got my phone there...) and explain my problem.
The girl actually walks across the way to my store (very kind of her) and proceeds to ask me the routine questions.
"Did you drop it?"
"Did you take it in the shower with you?"
"Did you leave it in your car overnight?"
"No, it doesn't leave my coat pocket."
Well, fuck me silly, I had it in my purse didn't I? There's something wrong here.
The only thing I can think of is that once I'd charged it, my pockets were full so I just tossed it in my purse.
Turns out I had a full can of hairspray in there.
All over the inside of my bag.
And contents therein.
Cell phone included.
Apparently the girl was able to tell that it had severe water damage by looking under the battery.
You see, here's where, if your phone is UNDAMAGED, you'll find a small white papery dot.
This dot is actually Litmus Paper.
My dot was no longer white.
It was blood red.
Severe doesn't begin to describe the damage done to my phone.
I don't EVEN use hairspray.
I'm totally locked in to a three year contract and am now without cellular telephone service.
I'm thinking about turning to the hooch. The bottle.
Un cerveza por favor?
I need a hug.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
(Photo courtesy of the Boob Lady's brother... This is my nephew.)
Friday, March 30, 2007
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 10:26 PM
* The lovely lady who was breastfeeding her child on a bench in the middle of the mall. (I'm not opposed to breast feeding in public, but when your child is around the age where he or she can ask for your boob, notsomuch.)
* The young man who came into the store this evening to yank down the panties on a mannequin. (All while his posse looked on laughing their asses off.)
* The kindly group of young men standing in a corner outside of the mall smoking a doob.
* Me telling a certain someone that she's in for a "Baloney Pony" ride and listening to silence and crackling over the telephone line.What don't you have qualms about?
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:53 PM
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
I stopped off at the gas station on the way home from work this evening for a few necessities.
As I'm walking in the door, the big burly cashier is looking at me with a smirk on his face.
Curious, I walk closer.
I get to the counter and he asks me if I've got my points card.
I say no, I have no points card.
He tells me I need one.
As he's giving me the points that the last lady didn't want, he tells me that the card has my picture on it.
Having already worked since the asscrack of dawn this morning, (Not really, but it felt like it...) I smile politely.
(I'm secretly thinking that he's on crack.)
I gather up my purchase and as he's handing me my points card, he says heartily:
"Look! It's a tiger! You're a tiger!"
I stare, bewildered, at this man and his points card.
You could have heard me blink. You know, the little clicking sound you hear if someone blinks and it's really quiet?
So, he proceeds to tell me that I'm like a tiger; smart, attractive, and probably fast.
Had he taken a look at my purchases (And no, I won't go into detail!) He would have known how wrong he was.
Attractive? Of course.
Maybe in my heyday, not anymore.
Again with the digressing.
He then tells me that everytime I come in there now, he's going to call me Tiger.
I tell him and the young lad working with him that when I come in next, I will have nicknames for the two of them.
Burly man tells me that I can call him the Friendly Giant since that's what other people call him.
Or, I can call him Bear.
I told him that I'd like to think of something unique, and fresh.
He lets me leave as long as I promise to do it.
I think I've narrowed it down.
Burly man is going to be "Big Poppa", young working lad is going to be "Slugger".
What do you think?
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 10:38 PM
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Sweet mother of pearl.
Boots came back.
If you aren't familiar with the story of Boots, you can go here, here, and here.
I've linked them in chronological order...
Now that you're all caught up, HE CAME BACK.
I mean, sure I deliver superb customer service, have a thousand watt smile, and a great rack, but still, is this any reason to repeatedly come to me?
Why not come in when one of the other girls are working?
Sharing means caring right?
He came back to tell me that although he loved two of his pairs of panties, his thong was a smidge on the snug side.
I don't even want to think about it.
Everytime Boots comes in, he smells more and more like a well used hockey bag.
He's sweating just a little more profusely, he's got more and more "Smackies" (The white pasty shit that gets caught in the corners of some peoples mouths), the string of spit that is connecting his top and bottom lips get thicker, and his glasses are a little more smudged.
Pray for my soul, I'm destined for eternal damnation.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:35 PM
Here is your disturbing picture for the day.
*Author's Note: This is actually a photo taken by moi during the Holiday Season. Please disregard the other knick knacks on the entertainment stand. I would like you to click to enlarge, and then take a good look at the menacing clown. I actually bought this for my brother. I like to go to Value Village and buy crazy/creepy shit for him. He refused the clown as it terrified him. I kept it. The clown actually turns around and the reverse of is another frightening face. Good times.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:23 PM
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 8:50 PM
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
I am to list seven songs I am into right now...no matter what they are.
They must be songs I am presently enjoying.
Then I am to tag seven other people to see what they’re listening to.
1. Back To Black - Amy Winehouse
2. You Know I'm No Good - Amy Winehouse
3. Danse Macabre - Wintersleep
4. Like I Love You - Justin Timberlake (Don't judge me...)
5. Sing Theresa - Greg Laswell
6. Skin and Bones - Foo Fighters
7. Smile - Lily Allen
Dammit, I have more, but I'm limited to seven. Okay, these are at least the top 7 that I've been playing lately. Kind of. I guess.
I now tag:
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 10:48 PM
Saturday, March 17, 2007
How do you always know where to touch me?
You delve deep into my innermost workings and slowly bring me to the brink.
Your twists and turns are unparalelled.
You know just how to touch me, reach my most sensitive areas, make me smile.
I'd like to think that my hand guiding you in the right direction makes a difference.
The little moan that escapes my lips as you work your magic is indescribable.
I don't know how you do what you do, but please, don't stop.
Reaching deeper, bringing me closer...
Don't stop, keep going!
I'm not done yet.
There, that was amazing.
I couldn't have done it without you.
Thank you Q-Tip.
You know right where to get me.
You're the best.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 7:17 PM
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Thank you so much for your lovely letter.
I appreciate it.
I really do.
Let's get one thing straight.
I pay for you.
If I stop said payments, you're a goner.
How do you like them apples?
Me telling people I want to drive you off a bridge was nothing.
Wait 'til you get a load of what they're going to hear tomorrow.
That Versa has more balls than you'll ever have, you pussy.
Turns out that Kia sucks donkey balls.
You're lucky that I didn't kill you off long ago.
By the way?
Your Magic 8 Ball can suck my left tit.
Oh, and about this morning...
Yeah, this morning, remember?
Ring a bell?
That's about the time that your sorry ass decided to conk out on me in the middle of daytime traffic.
I bet you had as much fun as me coasting uphill through three lanes of traffic, only to come to a complete halt in the middle of a convenience store parking lot at an angle.
The wait for a tow truck sure was sweet wasn't it?
Bet you didn't know that Mamma could swear so much did you?
About those lights you so generously left on for me last night?
Thanks for that.
You're an asshole.
I think it's awesome that I got to spend $500.00 this afternoon fixing the alternator on your broke ass.
I really didn't want the money anyway.
Especially since I'd just paid off my Visa.
You're a real champ.
We'll see how tough you are when I go trade you in next week.
But, then again, you're worthless, so they're going to laugh me out of the dealership.
You'd better sleep with one eye open, MY FRIEND, since you're the piece of shit that's going to be turned into scrap metal.
I did you a real favor by calling you a tuna can that time.
I actually made it appear as though you were worth more than you are.
You're a sorry excuse for a car.
Don't you "fuhgettabout" THAT.
I'm going to haunt your dreams.
The Boob Lady
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 11:50 PM
It's me, Carl.
So, listen...About that whole plow thing?
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 7:36 PM
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I have one word: Phenomenal.
I received one of these the other day in a care package from my Mema.
The iTrip is a virtually weightless plastic box that allows your iPod to play right through an FM station on your stereo.
No USB cables, no headphones, nothing.
Once I stopped cursing long enough to figure out how to manually change the station on my car stereo's radio rather than just scanning through the available channels, I was quite pleased.
All I have to do is slide my Nano right onto this tiny wireless gadget and click the small button on the side of the iTrip to activate my screen.
Once the screen on the Nano is turned on, it tells me which radio station to put my stereo on and away it plays.
No muss, no fuss.
I can put the iTrip in the backseat, in the ashtray, anywhere for there to be signal enough to transmit and away I go.
I actually brought it to work the other day, laid it beside the stereo, tuned to the proper FM station and the good tunes played on.
It only lasts as long as the battery in the Nano lasts, but if you have a port that you can keep it constantly charging in, you won't run into any problems.
If you have an iPod and have no way to hook it up in your car, or to any stereo without auxiliary ports, I highly recomment that you get an iTrip.
This little piece of plastic allowed me to not rip my entire dash out to get at the aux ports in the back of the car stereo, allowing for much peace, and very little screaming.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 11:25 PM
I totally missed the one year anniversary of my own blogging expedition.
It was on the 4th!
I can't believe I did that.
I'd been so pumped about the upcoming extravaganza that it must have slipped my mind.
That, or the extraordinary amount of free porn I've been downloading has clogged my normally brilliantly clear brain with clouded pictures of people fornicating.
But, I digress.
Happy One Year Anniversary to me, The Boob Lady, thank you loyal readers for making it a fantastic year.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 12:17 AM
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 11:52 PM
I get more hugs, kisses, invitations for summer visits, and pool parties.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 10:57 PM
He came back.
Now that we've apparently developed a rapport, we're best buds.
I knew I should have made a funny face instead of smiling at his stories.
Now it won't stop.
When he came in last night to buy MORE panties, he said...
"I'm so happy with my stuff! I'd hug you right now, but I don't want to get into trouble..."
I grimaced and agreed.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:22 PM
Thursday, March 08, 2007
For some reason, Blogger is being a bitch and like the rest of you, I'm considering a move.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 10:31 PM
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 10:55 PM
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:16 PM
Sunday, March 04, 2007
After the aforementioned shower incident, I settled in for business.
I signed up for my usual online poker tournament, made some supper, sat at the computer to check all my usual sites, blogs, and gossip.
I then decided to cut my hair.
Not all of it mind you, just my bangs.
Now, normally, when people cut their own hair, it looks like it would had you used a FlowBee.
Me, I'm a practiced veteran.
I cut my bangs on a semi-regular basis.
Usually every 4-6 months.
But I digress.
I got new sandals today in a care package sent to me by Mema so, even though it's still Winter time, I can't wait to wear them. (Shh, don't tell her, she'll kill me...)
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:14 PM
I seriously love everything about it.
There is one downfall though.
I have no bathtub.
Don't get me wrong, I have somewhere to cleanse myself, I just don't have a tub to sit in.
I don't often like to sit in the bathtub for long periods of time anyway, but every now and then, a sister wants to take a load off, soak in the tub, have a glass of wine, and read a book.
Notsomuch at my place.
I have a stall.
A shower stall.
It's tiny too.
With barely enough room for me to properly cleanse all my womanly parts, the shower leaves much to be desired.
This evening as I was showering, I decided that I needed to shave my legs.
I saw my life flash before my eyes.
I am not even kidding.
Thanks to my flexibility and total devotion to shaving my legs, I somehow managed to prop one shapely leg at a time against the wall of the "shower" and do my business.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 6:56 PM
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Especially for an animal.
I run over, put him in the litter box and re-seal the tub.
Turns out he's Mensa bound.
Fitted By The Boob Lady at 9:58 PM