This might be a good time to say I’m in favor of VPL. I want people to know I’m wearing panties. I’m a good Catholic girl, a GCG, and GCGs wear panties. I want my P to be V. I want all my under stuff to be V. I’d like to go on record saying that my P is always V.
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When I finally did get it on, it held everything in all right but I looked like a tube of dough stuffed in a paper towel tube. I had no shape at all in the middle, unless you call a can of corn shapely – and there seemed to be muffins sticking out at the top and bottom.
For the time of my parents, it was customary to dress up when going out into the world. For my generation, we bucked the traditions of our parents and wore jeans with holes in them and flannel shirts over rock band t-shirts.
This race starts with you, the senior competitor, all decked out in your red, white, and blue pajamas and aerodynamic slippers bursting out of the starting gate or, in this case, gingerly
stepping out the front door.
I would explain exactly how to do them in this column, but I was even embarrassed when the doctor gave me the instructions in his office. (Now, I'll wait while you ask Siri. Otherwise, the rest of this column will make no sense). By the way, Siri will definitely know what Kegels are. All women do.
Football has been explained to me more times than I care to recall, and still I don’t understand why the opposing team refuses to let the guy carrying the football run the length of the field the way he wants to. If this one rule was changed, the game wouldn’t have to drag on for so long.
When hiking in the desert in the summer, make sure you bring plenty of water. This water is not intended to save you. You are going to die and there’s nothing that can be done about that. The water is intended as a nice gesture to those poor souls who must find your beef jerky-like remains in the desert. It is the least you could do for them.
“Mary Grace, that blue light did not signify a K-Mart special. The car is equipped with handcuffs and guns. It has the word POLICE painted from front to back and on both sides. You might want to slow.”
Stop buying groceries and remove your car battery. Start a naked tuba and bagpipes band and have nightly rehearsals at your house. Fake a few heart attacks. Start talking to dead people at meals.
Wait that doesn’t mean you have to throw the remote in the trash… oh look, there are my glasses. And my car keys. And the dog… Maybe we should leave the trash for right now. How about I teach you some music?”
Aha! So it was Brad, our real estate agent. He was coming to determine how to market our home to sell it, and to give us a ballpark estimate of its value. The ballpark I’m talking about is probably more like a little league field than Yankee Stadium.