tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9955585.post-46205777620173509172008-06-02T16:55:00.007-07:002008-06-04T15:32:32.279-07:00<a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_2aT4LMFROhg/SESbkjg9WVI/AAAAAAAAAys/0ucafd5TsDQ/s1600-h/IMG_0108.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207458121458211154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_2aT4LMFROhg/SESbkjg9WVI/AAAAAAAAAys/0ucafd5TsDQ/s320/IMG_0108.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />So I'm thinkin that I need to lighten up a bit because that is our family trait, to use humor as our best coping mechanism. So with that said, I have one story totally unrelated to anything and then something else.<br /><br />Today Sweet Husband and I were coming out of a store when I heard the 'clack clack clack' of cheap high heels behind me. Women you know what I'm talking about, the heals are hollow, generating a 'clacking' sound when one walks so that it is heard from quite a distance. Every cheap shoe store carries them, I know, I used to buy them.<br /><br />I turn my head to the left, glancing slightly behind me. I see these ginormous breasts trying to be contained in a 2 sizes too small white tank top coming straight at me. I could clearly see the under garment outline, and it was straining, yearning to breath free. The defying of gravity was amazing. She clacked on past and I muttered to Sweet Husband, "hooker" like I always do when I see a hoochie mama like that. Why yes, I am judgemental.<br /><br />As she clacked past us, I was looking at her 4 inch heals wondering how in the hell she could even walk in them when I was greeted with a sight I'd never seen previously. Her pants were tucked. Into. Her. Butt. Crack. Those pants didn't move, not one bit,they were at their destination. I was fascinated. I've never seen anything like this, and I was curious. Was this some new fashion that I wasn't aware? Was it actually paint, instead of clothes, like Sweet Husband said? Or was she a mime, mimes wear all white right? I am left to wonder.<br /><br />This wasn't one of those accidental wedgies, she had to have had help. The kind of help that requires another set of hands and a special wedgie tool, like the Ronco Wedgie-matic. What it did was separate the orbs of her buttocks into near perfection, well except for the size and shape. There was clear separation of right cheek and left cheek, how did she do it? More importantly why? But I could tell she was a working girl. She was carrying a brief case. (Sweet Husband just said, he didn't notice a brief case, go figure)<br /><br /><br />NEXT>>>><br /><br />While we were strolling through Best Buy today I told Sweet Husband that depressed people spent more money than those that weren't depressed and perhaps that we needed to go look at TV's. He then said, "If Rocky will be looking down at us from heaven we're gonna need a big screen".Carlahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17918978945701905213noreply@blogger.com