Ahh, Tang...

Enough said.

Go, go now!

Get some tang!

Day Off...

After working all day today, I went to the grocery store to pick up some things I needed to bake and make supper.

For my brother.

Yeah, that's right.

On my day off tomorrow, I'm going to be playing the part of mother hen.

I am driving to see my brother and am bringing with me a treasure trove of goodies.

He will be receiving Rice Krispie Treats, Chocolate Chip Cookies, and a Shepherds Pie.

All from scratch.

I am the best sister on the planet.

Post Your Beaver...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Clovis...

Perhaps you are looking for some new art for your home, some pleasing eye candy, or just something to trip out to.

If so, please, go here!

I didn't give Ex-TM much publicity when we were dating, mostly because I wasn't about to be overshadowed...

I figure that now since we've split, I should give him some hits.

You won't regret it.

He's a fantastic artist.

Just because I'm now seeing Chaz from the local grocery store doesn't mean that Ex-TM and I aren't friends.

Ex-TM and I get along swimmingly and I'm sure that he's happy for me and Chaz.

Enjoy the eye party, say hello, buy something pretty for your walls, whatever your heart desires...

Just make sure he knows who sent you!!

**Link has been repaired, my apologies...**

Snow watch...

The boys watching the snow today...

I know, the cuteness is unbearable.

Vice Versa...

He's navy blue, fully loaded, dead sexy, and sometimes, if I listen real close, he whispers sweet nothings in my ear...

---------------

After poor Carl got smoked on Wednesday, the fine people at Enterprise came to pick me up in preparation for the rental car I would be driving for the next week or so.

The car they gave me far surpassed anything Carl has ever been to me.

It's almost as though, for the next week or so, Carl doesn't exist.

I swear, if the car was small enough, we'd be spooning in bed together, giggling like teenagers, and probably, by now, making it to second base.

I don't want to give it back.

Don't make me.

Melba Toast...

Melba Toast is one of my favorite things.

I ate an entire sleeve of Melba Toast last night.

Don't judge me.

Erica apparently has no idea what Melba Toast is and that makes me sad.

I'm hoping that these pictures will help jog her memory.

At the very least they will inspire her to go buy some damn Melba Toast and savor it like it should be savored.

I encourage you all to eat a piece of Melba Toast today.

Please?

Do it for the children.

Sad Coat...

After work today, T and I went to grab an ice cream.

The ice cream was expensive.

The ice cream was delicious.

We got our ice cream in Oreo covered, chocolate dipped waffle cones.

T polished hers off like the champion that she is, while I struggled with mine.

We decided to then leave the mall and go to my car.

On the walk down the hallway, I notice that my ice cream is slowly dripping down my hands as there is a hole at the base of my cone.

Let it be known that I had a stumpy cone to begin with.

Once in my car, the ice cream seeped through the hole in the cone, down my hands, and all down the front of my jacket.

I did not wipe it up with a napkin.

I scraped it up with my finger.

I ate it.

Is that wrong?

Got Change...

I know you've all been waiting eagerly for my newest disturbing item.

The wait is over.

Don't all email me at once for one of these.

They only come a couple of times a year.

Or as many times as I can catch a frog.

It's usually tadpoles and I can't stuff them or insert a zipper can I?

Rest assured, nobody will EVER ask you to borrow money again.

Cleansing...

In order to cleanse all of our minds of memories from my past few posts, here is a little something that should brainwash you.

*Begin*

*End*

Overtyped...

The following is an anonymous email relay that occured last night.

Enjoy...

Person 1 will be in red.

Person 2 will be in blue.

-----------------------

...I will say though, you look great in tube socks and running shoes. Keep up the good work.
You're looking a little grey around the nuts though..

I pluck them

Oh Jesus..
HAHA, I'm laughing out loud.
You must be smoother than a baby's ass.
Great way to avoid ingrown hairs though

baby's ass with wrinkles

EWW
I knew it.
SBS
Saggy Ball Syndrome.
You can get Bagtox for that!!

just a lift will do. I'll wear them on my chest.
Chestnuts!!

Holy shit, I almost spit out my pepsi. Amazing.
You're almost as funny as me!!

That was my intent darlin'
Actually not even a black one left!!!!

HAHAHA.. Stop, you're killing me.
I'm actually going to post this as a conversation tomorrow. You know that right?

yur not grounded, yur cut off!!! lol

And you can't cut me off, I'm flesh and blood.
We'll see what kind of hilarious spin I can put on those emails.. You guys are fair game now.. Now that I've actually crossed that line, It's on!!!

----------

That is all.

Oh Dear God...

I figure since I blogged about the other members of my family, I would throw my dad in there.

I know that my mema will appreciate the tube socks since apparently, he's not even wearing those right now.

*Shudder*

Please send all your donations to my email address so that I can attend therapy.

Thank you.

I Went Down...

So, I'm on the phone with mema and she's telling me that she's in pain.

I ask why.

Turns out she, and I quote, "Went down like a 200 pound tubby" on the porch today.

I guess it's slippery and my poor mema slipped and fell.

We think she threw her hip out.

I'm going to go watch some BET and call Jedderdone and then we'll see how she's feeling.

Please join me in prayer services.

Thank you.

This Is What It's All About...

This, my friends, is what Valentine's Day should be about...

Donkey Show...

The following is a snippet of IM between myself and Kip. (My Brother)

We were discussing the fact that I was going to steal the new rental and go to Mayheeco.

Hilarity ensues..

______

kip says:
any idea how long its going to take?

J says:
Yeah, tis super cool. I almost don't want to give it back...

kip says:
ha. bail and steal it

J says:
Who knows, it's just recently gotten towed, at about 4 they came to get Carl.

J says:
I know.. I'll be in f overnight. i'll need money and food.

kip says:
no prob

kip says:
going to mexico?

J says:
Tijuana.

J says:
Coming?

J says:
I already reserved you a place at a donkey show.

kip says:
love donkey shows

J says:
I thought so. What about the sex of the donkey? Have a preference? Costumes? Props?

kip says:
sailor suits and tutus

kip says:
im very specific

J says:
LMFAO

J says:
There will be jello wrestling too.

kip says:
love it. mexico is sweet

J says:
What about M?

kip says:
she'll hop on a plane and meet us

J says:
Ok, after work? She'll need her passport. Or to flash her rack.

J says:
Either will do.

_________

Yes, we're disfunctional. We love it. So do you.

Only Me.../Winter Storm Watch 2007...

So.

If you read the last post, you know that I had a premonition of sorts.

Rather, I said something, felt a certain way, and the complete opposite happened.

This, in itself, is not unusual.

Please take a moment of silence and pray for Carl.

Carl was hit today.

Carl was hit bad.

The corner of Carl's backside is pretty smashed in.

The light that used to shine from Carl's ass?

Burnt out.

The joy I used to get from looking at Carl's rearview?

Gone.

Why, you ask?

Well, it's because of a silly little man in a silly little plow.

The snow started at approximately 2:00 pm.

I know this because as I'm sitting at my computer innocently chatting with a friend, I see a plow drive by in what can only be described as what I thought was diligence in wanting to get a jump on things.

Notsofuckingmuch.

Instead, "Mr. I'm going to get out early and drive my plow truck around for no apparent reason and hit innocent little silver cars named Carl" decides to smoke my car on his way down the hill.

Apparently, this foolish little man had just come back from the local coffee shop from a "pee" and was going around the block.

Carl just got in the way.

Carl is now on his way to the repair shop.

Cold, alone, he doesn't know where he is! Don't you understand?

I'll see you soon, Carl.

I'll see you soon.

Poor innocent little Carl.

Bow your heads for Carl.

Say a little something.

Thank you.

---------------

Storm Watch!!!

There is snow!

It is NOT stormy.

Yet.

I will keep you updated.

Memories...

Last night while on the phone with mema at approximately 11:30 pm, I said something.

Something that I now know was foreshadowing.

I said:

"Nobody can hit my car where I'm parked! Even if we get a boatlod of snow, I'm good because nobody can hit me."

*Cue ominous music*

Frost Watch 2007...

I may change the name of the post to Frost Watch instead of Storm Watch...

Zzzzzzz

**Update: I see Frost. **

Winter Storm Watch 2007!!! (2)

So far, no snow.. All is clear.

Over and Out.

Pfffft...

Winter Storm Watch 2007!!!

Apparently Winter Storm Watch is now on...

I, for one, think this is a load of bullshit.

Sure, we'll get a few inches of snow*, but will it be enough to incapacitate us?

We'll see.

Stay tuned to Winter Storm Watch 2007 for up to the minute posts and quiet laughter.

*I know, I'm Canadian, we technically term things in centimetres and the like, but I'm not normal. If you've been reading this long and still don't know that, I don't know what to say to you...*

Can't Hardly Wait...

Okay, so I am feeling extra hilarious and giddy tonight.

There may or may not be a reason for that.

But I digress...

In honor of my hilarity and giddiness, here is another disturbing post.

I simply can't help myself.

*Need somewhere special to put your pen? Why not shove it in my dog's ass?*

Shit...

This is how it went down:

Date: Sunday, February 11, 2007

Time: 8:30 pm

Place: My Kitchen

Those Present: Me, Jack, Todd

Details: I was cutting apples to make a solo serving apple crisp.

Mid slice, the butter tub gets in the way.

Knife catches on butter tub.

I shanked myself.

Blood ensues.

I still have all my fingers.

You can all sleep easy tonight. I'm okay.

Disturbing...

I bring to you a new weekly installment.

You can thank me later.

Trust me, you will.

*That's correct, the goat is nursing that baby.*

Possible Second Job Idea #2

This second possible job idea could potentially net me a lot of money.

For this reason I will not discuss it in detail.

I know, the suspense is killing you.

If you must know, email me.

I may or may not tell you the truth.

I will say, though, that I'll be rich soon. (potentially)

And you all have to buy it.

Or else.

Possible Second Job Idea #1...

If you ask my mother what I used to do during breaks at the Bed and Breakfast I managed some years ago, she would tell you that I used to email her soft core porn exerpts that I'd write.

I know, hilarious.

Seriously though, I think I could have a career writing.

I love it. (writing, not porn...nevermind, I love porn too...)

Plus, I'm a perv.

With a potty mouth.

I think if I really put my mind to it, dedicated the time, and had some inspiration, I could truly write a mean soft core porn book.

Would you buy it?

**If you will only buy my book if it includes hardcore smut, I'll write it, but you can't tell my parents. I don't know if I'm comfortable knowing that they might buy it too... Not because they're prudes, or would be disappointed in me, but because they might think it's okay to read together and/or re-enact. I am not prepared for that. At all.**

Pick and Flick...

Can I just tell you that the Swiffer Carpet Flick is my new best friend?

Seriously, I'm in love.

That thing is amazing.

That is all.

The Kittays!!

Make video montages at onetruemedia.com

Yeah, I'm a loser.

So?

It Was A Neck Snappin' Good Time...

Picture it:

It was a blustery day.

There was snow everywhere.

About 4 inches of it was resting peacefully and undisturbed on my car.

I am getting ready for work.

I decide that I should clean the car off before I dry my hair.

I go out in a pair of fleece pants, no bra, a hoodie, and a coat.

Armed with car keys and a heavy duty scraper, I begin the tedious task of brushing/scraping Carl.

Once task is complete, I replace scraper, lock the car door, and proceed to shuffle towards my front door.

Notsomuch.

Instead of making it safely to the warmth of my apartment, I end up somehow laying tits up in the middle of the street.

I had slipped on a patch of invisible ice.

My legs went out from under me, my arms flail, and I land on my tailbone.

The vision you are undoubtedly picturing is not unlike that of a baby giraffe taking its first steps.

I lay in the middle of the street for a few more moments before somewhat hurridly picking my frail and battered 87 year old body off the road.

I shuffle to the door in agony.

I complete the drying of my hair, all the while cursing like a trucker.

My back still hurts like hell today.

My New Work Out Video...

And yes, I wear the unitard.

My Beaver...

Check it out!!!

My Little Beaver!

**Since I STILL cannot reply to posts, I'll say to you:

Nobody: You're more than welcome. Now, isn't a picture of my Little Red Beaver better than a picture of my rack?

g-man: Thanks. *Blush*

Dave Evans: Technically there is only a three year warranty, BUT, my beaver hasn't been used in over three years. Which means that the warranty is at the very least tripled. Possibly worth more.

UPDATE #2:

*Big Orange: I KNOW!! I truly hope it's like riding a bike...

The Bachelorette...

So, I ate a potpourri of things for supper tonight.

I had escargot, corn, and Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.

Not that you care.

I have just had a pretty uneventful week so far and thought I'd post something to keep you coming back.

I'll post the pictures of my rack soon.

Promise.

**Update, in response to the comments, last night's meal was something I was miraculously able to throw together at the last minute. Mostly because I was starving and didn't want to eat Kraft Dinner again. **

Already...

The weekend is over.

Sadly, this means that the culmination of all the hard work that I've done around here this weekend will not be enjoyed again until Wednesday.

It actually feels like I live here now, not like I'm moving into a frat house. *

Saturday and Sunday for me consisted of the rare/elusive "Two Day" weekend that most of you regular folk enjoy weekly.

They were the first two days in a row that I've enjoyed since prior to the "Holiday" season.

Dammit.

*I'm eating like a bachelor though... Cereal, microwave dinners, Hamburger Helper...Sob*

Feel free to send donations to me via email.

Please?

Fucking Beautiful...

Prepare to create a visual for yourselves.

A visual that may or may not frighten you.

A visual that made my brain bleed a little.

A visual that you will probably regret having somewhere down the line.

A visual that you will hold me responsible for.

It is nightmare inducing to most.

I apologize in advance.

The following is a true story, names and locations have been changed to protect the innocent.

Date: Friday, January 26, 2007.

Time: 11:00 am.

Location: Lingerie Store

Circumstances: The Boob Lady was minding her own business, doing her morning paperwork, when in walks a couple seemingly looking for hosiery.

Don't be fooled.

The couple combined must have weighed about 550 pounds. (I'm being kind)

The gentleman comes in and asks if I have any hosiery.

I kindly reply no, but give the couple some alternate suggestions as to where they might find some.

As they are turning to leave, the wife rounds the corner and the gentleman rushes back in.

I, being naive, think that he must be searching for a secret Valentine's Day present for his wife when he asks me if I have any 42 DD bras.

I tell him what I have, show him a couple of pieces and tell him that there are other colors as well.

He then asks me what size my panties go up to.

I reply that we stock up to an extra large and he seems relieved.

He then proceeds to tell me that the extra large panty seems to fit HIM the best.

He prefers something in a microfibre, the silkier the better.

Imperceptible to the naked eye, my right eye twitches and my mouth turns down.

I shit you not folks, this man was looking for himself.

He wanted something naughty (Which, at the time, I didn't have) to bring home with him that day.

He then proceeds to show me the manssiere that he is currently sporting and tells me where he bought it.

He prefers something with a molded cup, a little padding, so that it gives him some uplift.

I, meanwhile, am chanting in my head, "Pretend he's a woman, pretend you're dealing with a woman..."

I nod and smile in all the right places and listen to his comments and answer his questions with ease since I'm a fucking professional.

As he's leaving, I'm looking at the ground, trying to decide how best to tell this story.

I think surely nobody will believe this, but decide how to put it nonetheless.

He turns back to me to tell me that he bought this "sexy" pair of boots at the adult store in town just yesterday in a size 14.

He describes that they are lovely, they lace all the way up the front and zip up the side.

They go to the knee and are "Fucking Beautiful!"

I can barely fit my own damn man calves into a pair of hooker boots. How in the hell is this guy doing it?

As mentioned at the beginning of the post, I apologized.

Again, my condolences.

I am the customer service champion of the world.

Ahh, Men...

Phone call received on Tuesday, January 23, 2007.

*Ring, Ring*

Me: Store Spiel

Man On Phone: Hello "Boob Lady", do you have dancers?

Me: I beg your pardon sir?

MOP: Dancers, do you guys have dancers there? You know?

Me: No, I'm sorry sir, we don't.

MOP: Are you close to the Maxx?

Me: No sir, I'm in the mall and they're on such and such street.

MOP: Do you think they have dancers?

Me: I don't know sir, they are a dance bar.

MOP: So, they might have dancers then?

Me: Sure.

MOP: Thanks Boob Lady, have a nice day.

Me: You too.

*Click*

**UPDATE: As per the comments, if I had my time back, I would have asked him how much he was willing to pay me. I would have come over and done the robot. I do a mean robot. **

Nevermind...

So, I decided against the day by day recap.

I'll fill it in in this post in point form.

It's much more fun that way.

And it's way too painful to write it in detail.

Also, the shit just keeps on a comin'.

-------------------------

Monday: You already got.

Tuesday: My car won't start. A cab is called in the nick of time to get me to work. A $15.00 cab no less. Both ways.

Wednesday: My car won't start. This is the day of my winter tire appointment. Yeah, I know, you're thinking; "You're two days late Boob Lady, the snowstorm was on Monday." To that, I say: "Suck it." Call tow truck. Arrive at car appointment 4 hours late.

Thursday: Drop co-worker off at home, get pulled over by the po-po paddy wagon for going the wrong way up a one way street. I seriously had no idea. Don't have to-date paperwork in registration folder.

Friday: Seemingly harmless. Something sinister surely lurks...

Saturday: Not so bad.

Sunday: Work on day off.

Come on.

This has got to be a terrible karmic mistake doesn't it?

I'm a good person dammit.

I can't help it if Carl is a little bitch cleverly disguised as a tuna can on wheels.

-------------------------------

Today, I get all prepared to leave for work, early no less, and attempt to drive down the hill.

Attempt being the operative word here.

I get a portion of the way down when it feels like my back tire may be stuck or dragging a piece of ice.

Notsomuch.

Turns out that my back wheel doesn't want to rotate AT ALL.

I don't notice this until I am through the toll bridge and need to pull over into their parking lot.

My back tire had ceased up and was basically staying still while the other three wheels were turning.

This led to me leaving a 123089710294871 foot skid mark from my apartment to the bridge.

I end up calling ANOTHER tow truck, the smarmy tow truck driver finally arrives, I take it to the auto shop, I am late for work, and my day is ruined.

At 6 pm, I go to pick up my car YET AGAIN and this time, I am assured that it should be smooth sailing from here on out.

Yeah, you said that last week dickhead.

And yes, your math is correct, that's two tow trucks in less than a week.

Monday...

Oh, Monday.

The day that started one of the shittiest weeks EVER...

I wish I was joking.

Over the following posts I will re-enact through photos and sob stories the true week that I had.

Enjoy...

---------------------------

On Monday of last week, the city got hit with the first snow of the year. Not only was it snow, it was a full blown snow storm.

I left work at 9:10 pm sharp. I scuff out to my car since if I walk properly I am going to go tits up in a snow bank.

I get to my car and it turns out that I had parked in a puddle.

*Pity Party Begin*

My shoes had holes in them.

*Pity Party Over*

I get into my car after a few painful minutes of trying to unlock my frozen door.

I start the car, retrieve the car brush, and proceed to brush the snow/ice/Mother Nature's

Ass© off of Carl, the funkmobile.

After I'm done cleaning, I drive at a snail's pace over the highway to get to my new home.

It's treacherous to say the least.

Once I get to my street, I pull up, get stuck halfway up since my tires are BALD.

I spin my tires, swear, cry, chainsmoke, all the usual panic induced stress relievers.

I proceed to back up down the street to try the next street over which intersects with mine and has a smaller incline.

Lo and behold, I get stuck there too.

Again, I back up, turn, and go to the NEXT street.

Notsomuch.

I end up half in the road, and half in someone's driveway.

After calling my mother in a tear induced frenzy, I call another friend.

She, her boyfriend, and his cousin came to rescue me from across town.

While I am waiting, I notice that there is someone watching me from their window.

This skank watched me the entire time I was sitting in front of her home with my hazard lights on.

I swear, at one point, she left to get popcorn.

It was a valiant move on their part.

After much tire spinning, swearing, and slip sliding around, we manage to get me over to my street, half up the hill, partially parked in my own spot.

This is where Carl spent the night.

The bastard.

New Year...

So, like I mentioned before, a lot has happened.

TM and I split up, I moved out, he moved away, and I am now living on my own.

It's wierd.

I never really envisioned myself at 26 living alone with two cats.

Now you can finally call me the crazy cat lady.

Except, I'm not crazy.

Yet.

It's a new Chapter in the book that is The Boob Lady.

I hope you'll stay with me on my adventure and ride the coaster with me.

An Open Letter To Jonah...

You WILL see...

Back In Black...

I'll be back on soon, lots has happened, lots to tell, little time to tell it.

Please be patient, I promise, it'll all be worth it in the end.

Man Vadge...

-----------------------------------------------

moose knuckle n. a (prominent) pudendum; the appearance of the (male or female) sex organs in tight clothing. Also known as: Man Vadge.

Cameltoe is a slang term that refers to the outline of a woman's vulva when seen through tight, form-fitting clothes. Usually, a cameltoe is visible from the front. Web sites exist that are dedicated to publishing photographs of celebrities' cameltoes.

-----------------------------------------------

This is to all people who are sporting the toe.

The camel toe that is.

I'd like to say that I coined the term Manmel toe, but I don't think it's gonna jive with the Urban Dictionary since they've already got it in there.

Instead, we'll stick with the ever popular "moose knuckle".

Please.

Stop wearing pants that are too tight.

All of you.

Think of the disease.

Think of the infections.

Think of the people.

The people who have to look at your junk.

The kind of junk you just can't look away from, even if you try.

Thank you.

If you must know the history of the camel toe, and I think you do, please, follow this link.

It is very informative. My favorite quote?

-----------------------------------------------

"The male toe (pantalones tightus camelius) did not come into existence until sometime between the 12th and 13th century AD as pants were not a common feature among the male gender prior to this".

PS: I'm sorry.

**Update: Flannery mentions Steve Perry of Journey having had one. I would also like to note that EVERY SINGLE member of Foreigner are STILL rocking the man vadge.

Unmade...

I haven't properly made my bed in weeks.

Usually when I do that, it's a sign of me being too busy, time spent working rather than time spent at home.

The same can be said for recent weeks, although, I've had a couple of days off here and there for the holidays.

This time feels different.

It's like, if I don't make it, I won't have to lay in it.

Do you catch what I'm throwing down?

Peep...

Yeah, that's right.

I'm a peep.

Click THIS and peep me!

Do it.

Seriously.

It's the Holiday Season.

They're About This Big...

Date: Thursday, December 21, 2006.

Time: 8:00 pm.

Place: Lingerie Store

Those Present: The Boob Lady, Drunk Pervert, Video Surveillance on wall.

Description of What Went Down:

I'm counting my till, preparing for the evening close.

In walks in Rico Suave.

Rico reeks. Smells like a distillery.

Strutting to the counter, Rico smirks at me.

I ask him if there's anything I can help him find to which he replies: "I need a matching bra and panty set."

I oblige in the beginning of the hunt.

Rico follows me around like a lost puppy while I show him some popular selections.

Rico decides that he's found the perfect gift.

I ask what size he's looking for.

He looks lovingly at my chest.

I suppress a gag.

He notices me looking oddly at him.

He then asks me to put a few different sizes of bras on the counter.

I oblige.

Once the bras are placed on the counter, Rico proceeds to stare each bra down and then slowly his hands creep up towards the counter ledge.

I wonder why he's acting so peculiar, other than the fact that he's clearly shitfaced.

Turns out that Rico simply wanted to cup all the bras in size sequence to see approximately what boob size he was looking to purchase the bra for.

I raise an eyebrow. (I'm good at that)

Rico decides on the 36 B.

I anticipate seeing this bra return to my store on the 27th of December when the mall re-opens.

**Open letter to drunk pervs**

Dear Drunk Perv,

Don't come in my store drunk and cup my bras after staring at my chest and deeming my hooters too big.

You're gross.

Sincerely,

The Boob Lady

Best. Video. Ever...

The following is NSFW. (Not safe for work) I'm sure most of you normal people are all on "Vacation" now.

Enjoy it.

Once I'm done taking over the retail world, there will ONLY be vacation for us retail lackeys.

Not you fancy pants nine to fivers.

This video is simply amazing.

Seriously.

This might be the best thing I've seen all year.

It is my present to you.

Happy Holidays!