I know it’s been a while since we talked. You’re busy with your helpless, vomiting child and your new baby, and I imagine that takes a lot out of you. Like, perhaps you are too busy to think about what you are wearing all the time. Did I tell you one day last week I spent most of the day in my bathrobe? No? Well, I know my baby’s older so let’s keep that between you and me.
Anyway, I hate to tell you I had a breast-related “why god why?” moment yesterday. Not over myself. I am a grown-ass woman and have come to terms with my breasts. We’re speaking and sometimes we even have coffee together. But yesterday…I saw some other breasts that took me straight back to Arizona State, when I used to work out in the gym there.
Let me tell you about a young woman who used to work out at the same time my gym buddy and I did. And when I say work out, I mean, she used to treat the ellipticycle like her own personal little bitch. She pwned that thing so hard I thought it was going to jump off its frame and go crashing through the plate glass in front of her. She always had a top knot that used to bob along in time with her furious pace.
This woman’s poor breasts had the extreme misfortune of being at least C-cups, so they would move on the same beat as the rest of her body, but one step behind, of course. Body up, breasts down. Breasts up, body down. We made light of it by calling her “The Fraggle” because her movements looked like the characteristic “Fraggle” walk–with the bobbing and the floating feather hair. “The Fraggle’s at it again,” my friend would say as she nudged me. We would wince and look away. “Strap those bitches down, jeez.”
I suspect she looks like this now.
Yesterday I had a “The Fraggle” moment. All I can say is, obviously, Britney, you’re not a leaker. Strap those bitches down, woman!
Your Friend, SJ
Hee hee- grown-ass. Love it!
I am always shocked anew when I see Hunter Tylo’s crazy bolt-on boobs. They’re like a drinks tray full of silicone.
bras are our friend.
Britney is B-A-N-A-N-A-S. (This is my way of commenting on both today’s and yesterday’s posts in one go.) Thanks for the fun day today!
“You’re busy with your helpless, vomiting child and your new baby”
BWHAHAHAHAHA
I feel you are the only person I can frankly discuss Britney’s Issues with and, honey, this is how I see it: Federline cheated on his baby momma with Britney when his baby momma was PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD, and now Britney is apparently upset that he’s cheating on her and the sheets from the delivery room haven’t even come back from the cleaners yet.
Britney, honey, if you want to know how a man is going to treat you, take a good hard look at how he treated his ex. Did he tell you she was a crazy bitch? That’s what he’s going to say about you to his next girlfriend.
Now, Kevin’s Issues are a whole different question. Like, fool, when your wife earns more than you and your whole family combined, you might want to avoid pissing in the gravy train.
Thank you. I feel better now. There is nobody in my house who gives this kind of quality celebrity gossip the attention it deserves.
Oh, thank you, Jesus!!! We’ve been Britney and K-Fed deprived for too freakin’ long! SJ, I know you’re my kid and everything, but I’d like to say…YOU ROCK!
Love,
Mom
OH NOES, THIS BLOG JUST JUMPED THE SHARK.
Was out at mall tonight and decided to smell Britney’s “Fantasy” toilet water. You know, the bottle’s cute and pink and all, right? Well, the toilet water smells like cotton candy. Should I be ashamed that I don’t hate it?
The older I get, the happier I am to have tiny, nearly-nonexistent bosoms. (Because in spite of the misleading screen name, I’m 100% genuine XX female.)