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Posts Tagged ‘FUCK OFF PERVERTED MAN!’

1. bras for bikes

You have seen them and so have I: bras for bikes. No, not bike bras.

As if it’s not enough to have an abundance of breast cancer and pink ribbons, we in the West are so affluent that we must protect our expensive bikes from bugs and such with bras. I’m not saying one should not protect an investment that costs hundreds or thousands of dollars, but I do think it’s a sign of us all going to hell in a hand basket. Not only that, but there’s something disturbing about the way the bike bra looks, like bondage gear for a bike; or is it just me?

2. I did not realize until recently that the word pub derives from public house. DUH! I do know, however, from whence the word pube derives even if spellcheck says it’s not a word.

3. I had a client who told me the key to to getting what you want in marriage is to make your husband think he came up with all of the good ideas. I still don’t know how she did it; maybe I never really applied myself to see if it would work.

4. Another thing I learned late in life: that the suffix ham in a place name is short for hamlet.

5. How is it possible that it takes my teenage daughter 20 minutes to get ready to go to Home Depot with us, her uncool parents? HOME DEPOT for chrissake. It’s not like any cool boys are hanging out there, only single, lonely, middle-aged men (trust me on this).

6. Why was I raised to be polite to all men, even fucking perverts? Why aren’t men taught not to be fucking perverts to women and girls of all ages and stripes in the first place?

Today a man at the grocery store held up a HUGE carrot. I mean HUGE—8-9 inches long and 3 inches in diameter—and asked me to take a bite of it. I can’t remember what he said exactly, something completely stupid and simple like would you take a bite of this? WHAT THE FUCK, dude? Do you not understand being creepy or was that the point? I simply said no and politely chatted about the local carrots this time of year being very small because it’s so early in the season and that this must not have been a local carrot. I walked away and the fucker kept talking to me.

What is wrong with me that I didn’t tell him to fuck off in no uncertain terms, like by saying FUCK OFF YOU PERVERT. I could even have eliminated all doubt about what went on and avoid the swear by saying: YOU ARE BEING CREEPY AND PERVERTED, STAY AWAY FROM ME.

But I only think of these things in hindsight. I’m almost FIFTY for chrissakes. Will I please get this together by my birthday?

Red White Blue

Generally I am not a fan of the color red. Red is a hard color. Hard to use in decorating, hard to wear.

I did eat some amazing local strawberries today, from the same store where the CreepAss was, and they were a beautiful red color.

I did not go to fireworks, but I usually like to. I don’t feel like I’m missing out.

These are my kid’s nails. She can really rock the red, white, and blue.

IMG_1493

Me? I’m too jaded to feel patriotic and I look like shit in that shade of American red.

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