WARNING: This post doesn’t pull any punches. I need a table set up in my home, under the most natural light possible, where a team of aestheticians clad in neuroscientist’s glasses can groom me every morning. This finding hair on my face, chin, neck, legs – breasts – at inopportune moments has got to stop….
I’m looking into the back yard. Big, fluffy snowflakes are falling… “It’s snowing!” “Seriously?” The rest of the household does not appear as thrilled with early spring snow. Strange though – it’s only snowing in our yard. “Wait, they’re not snowflakes – they’re not just falling down, they’re sort of moving in other directions. Moths? …
Appendage depression doesn’t get a lot of air play. Unless of course the appendage is a penis and then any story therein related will fill your news feed. My left hand has a death wish. To look at it, you wouldn’t think that it’s any different really from my right hand. Fingers the same length…
With the maximum recommend dosage of Tylenol and Naproxen in my system to combat the migraine spike in my right eye, I collapse back into bed. I adjust the cold beanbag on the back of my neck and another over my eyes. Two and a half hours later, I awake pain-free and ready to head…
I hold two white pull-on sports bras in my hands. I hadn’t thought I had two exactly the same. I lay them side by side on the bed, trying to find the well-washed sizing labels. AHA! Maybe if I put one on top of the other! Yes! The one on top is definitely smaller. I…
For once I am not talking about my pubic hair, or even referring to yours. (‘Cause let’s face it, the boat carrying that particular shade of carpet sailed decades ago when I discovered Flirt hair colour.) It’s all about lipstick. Please follow my idiomatic extrapolation. I’ve been testing lipstick shades on the back of my…
“Do you see this?” I ask. “What?” David is towelling his hair. “This.” I turn the left side of my face to him. “This.” He comes closer. Looks. Then looks again. “I don’t see anything.” “This.” I use my finger to show him what I’m talking about. “I don’t see anything.” “I’m growing a beard.”…
Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Oh, for the love of… Meow. Meow. MEOW… MEOW…MEOW…MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOWWWW! I look over at the clock. 7:17. I close my eyes, do a double take. What the? CRAP!! I stagger out of bed, open the bedroom door and face Minuit – the most irritated cat in the galaxy. She squints at me…
Me – this morning. It is before breakfast. It is before work. I am on the treadmill – watching Daredevil on Netflix. Moving at 3.5 miles an hour on an incline of three. ‘Cause if I don’t do it before I go to work, it will not happen for the rest of day. And if…
“So if they’re asking do I have experience working with animals, does that mean REAL experience? I mean, I have three cats,” says Rissa. “Yes, you do have three cats,” I reply. “And don’t discount the dogs that we’ve had.” “But do they mean experience like squeezing a gopher’s anal glands?” “What!?!” “Or like, I’ve…