I realize that I have some new followers on here and that this might, or might not, be the first post by me that you’re reading since adding me. All I can say is, let’s try to keep this a judgment-free zone. I’m not that weird, I promise. Okay, half-promise.
On January 14, 2015, Dora made a post about boobs regarding the hunt for sports bras. On the same day, Margaret over at Very Bangled also made a boob post on how weird they really are. So here I am, fashionably tardy as always, with my post about boobs. Except mine is about the perfect shirt to announce that you are a proud owner of some of ’em darlings.
I’m friends with some of the most amazing carnivores on this planet and for graduation, one of them gave me this shirt. We were at an Irish pub (don’t get too excited, it was in NY) when the gift-giving happened and my friend seriously did not realize the connotation at first. I was literally choking and crying with laughter when I held this shirt up to my body – and of course, the word “MEAT” aligned perfectly with my boobs. And then we all choked and cried for the next half hour.
That’s pretty much all I wanted to talk about in this post. That and the fact that I got screwed over by some random stranger yesterday. I was getting on the elevator after work and, as I was leaving, a girl seemingly in her twenties got off and stared at me for a bit. I was exhausted from having to stay late and didn’t give it a second thought. UHH, turns out the girl pressed EVERY SINGLE BUTTON on the elevator. I was too tired to get out and switch elevators, so I pretty much stayed on as the elevator took me to every. single. floor. before I got to the ground floor. Who does these things anymore? Seriously? If I ever see her again, I’m going to introduce her to one of my body parts. Hint: not boobs.