Let's get one thing straight:
"For better or worse" did not
Cover bad music.
Most of the time I really enjoy the tunes the Big Kahuna puts on our shared playlists. He does have a maudlin penchant for sentimental folk ballads, however, that makes me want to download the entire Andrew Lloyd Weber collection and sync it right into his iPhone. How do you like that, Big Guy? Huh? Huh!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
CatKu
Thursday
Sweet little kitty!
Why are you gagging like that?
We are much concerned.
Friday
Sick cat went to vet
many tests ... all appears well.
Four hundreds bucks, please.
Saturday/Sunday
Kitty will not eat;
Lies around, looking horrid.
Children are frantic.
Monday
Yaak ... monster hairball.
Feeling better now. Meeeeooow.
No more hair band snacks.
Shout out to Guest Haiku-ist, my sister! Also to her family and their newly acquired (and, apparently, indiscriminately greedy) feline.
Sweet little kitty!
Why are you gagging like that?
We are much concerned.
Friday
Sick cat went to vet
many tests ... all appears well.
Four hundreds bucks, please.
Saturday/Sunday
Kitty will not eat;
Lies around, looking horrid.
Children are frantic.
Monday
Yaak ... monster hairball.
Feeling better now. Meeeeooow.
No more hair band snacks.
Shout out to Guest Haiku-ist, my sister! Also to her family and their newly acquired (and, apparently, indiscriminately greedy) feline.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Product Placement
Mammary alert! To male and/or prudish readers (that means you, Dad): If the very thought of breasts and bras (mine, anyone's) makes you all flustered and uncomfortable, stop reading now.
Unless it's too late, in which case, you might as well enjoy the haiku.
Back fat in bra cups.
False advertising? Or just
Good product placement?
The back story (pun intended) on this one has to do with the age-old female practice of making one's "bosoms" (as my grandmother used to call them) look bigger and more perky than they really are. I say age-old and use my Granny as a reference here, because one of her favorite stories involved the time during their 1920s courtship when my grandfather Clifford took her up in an (unpressurized) airplane and tried not to notice when the inflatable falsies in her shirt began - literally - blowing up. Fortunately both Granny and Papa possessed a good sense of humor and were able to laugh the incident off ... at least, as Papa would inevitably assert when Granny had finished relating this saucy tale at family gatherings, he was spared the honeymoon surprise experienced by most men of his generation when the buxom women they'd just promised to love honor and cherish took off their "Lady Parts" and put them in a drawer.
Well, here it is, almost a hundred years later, and things haven't really changed. Gel inserts have replaced blow-ups, and surgical implants have added a whole new dimension to the practice, but the fact remains that many of us who are less-than-well endowed in the Lady Parts department are always on the lookout for a good enhancement opportunity.
I thought I knew every trick in the book, but this one took me by surprise ... you might even say "aback."
Ha.
Anyway, a-bra-shopping I did go, and I met a very nice and very knowledgable saleswoman (or "fit consultant," as she prefers to be called) in the Nordstrom's lingerie department. According to her, the secret to really rocking a good bra lies in one's ability to incorporate the entirety of one's "torso flesh" (aka "back fat") into the cups of the aforementioned brassiere. This involves, literally, using one's hands like little fleshly backhoes to "scoop" everything forward, back to front, so that once the scooping is done and the bra is safely secured by its clever little front closure ...
Voila!
Instant cleavage.
Cheating? Maybe. But only a little. And far less alarming than having your beloved's boobies explode.
Unless it's too late, in which case, you might as well enjoy the haiku.
Back fat in bra cups.
False advertising? Or just
Good product placement?
The back story (pun intended) on this one has to do with the age-old female practice of making one's "bosoms" (as my grandmother used to call them) look bigger and more perky than they really are. I say age-old and use my Granny as a reference here, because one of her favorite stories involved the time during their 1920s courtship when my grandfather Clifford took her up in an (unpressurized) airplane and tried not to notice when the inflatable falsies in her shirt began - literally - blowing up. Fortunately both Granny and Papa possessed a good sense of humor and were able to laugh the incident off ... at least, as Papa would inevitably assert when Granny had finished relating this saucy tale at family gatherings, he was spared the honeymoon surprise experienced by most men of his generation when the buxom women they'd just promised to love honor and cherish took off their "Lady Parts" and put them in a drawer.
Well, here it is, almost a hundred years later, and things haven't really changed. Gel inserts have replaced blow-ups, and surgical implants have added a whole new dimension to the practice, but the fact remains that many of us who are less-than-well endowed in the Lady Parts department are always on the lookout for a good enhancement opportunity.
I thought I knew every trick in the book, but this one took me by surprise ... you might even say "aback."
Ha.
As those of you who may recall all the way back to LifeKu post #3 ("Dressing for One of Those Days"), earlier this summer I experienced the sad and (literally) painful loss of My Favorite Bra. That sorry tale utimately had a happy ending; those of you who are curious can go back and look in the comments section of that post.
For me, however, it was the process as much as the outcome that proved really interesting ... even, one might say, "uplifting."
Ha AGAIN.
Anyway, a-bra-shopping I did go, and I met a very nice and very knowledgable saleswoman (or "fit consultant," as she prefers to be called) in the Nordstrom's lingerie department. According to her, the secret to really rocking a good bra lies in one's ability to incorporate the entirety of one's "torso flesh" (aka "back fat") into the cups of the aforementioned brassiere. This involves, literally, using one's hands like little fleshly backhoes to "scoop" everything forward, back to front, so that once the scooping is done and the bra is safely secured by its clever little front closure ...
Voila!
Instant cleavage.
Cheating? Maybe. But only a little. And far less alarming than having your beloved's boobies explode.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Attention Teenagers
You aced your APs.
Great! Since you're so smart, surely
You can clean your room.
Aw, you grew your boobs.
Thanks for sharing them with us.
Now put them away.
On the contrary:
I do not exist solely
To embarrass you.
The fact you called me
"Mommy" makes me wonder if
You need more money.
Great! Since you're so smart, surely
You can clean your room.
Aw, you grew your boobs.
Thanks for sharing them with us.
Now put them away.
On the contrary:
I do not exist solely
To embarrass you.
The fact you called me
"Mommy" makes me wonder if
You need more money.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Ode to Joe
the hinge and fulcrum
of my oft imbalanced life
are your frozen foods.
I complain about the parking lots as much as anyone, but - as God is my witness - but for Trader Joe's I would have no social life and my family would go hungry six days out seven. Im just sayin' ...
of my oft imbalanced life
are your frozen foods.
I complain about the parking lots as much as anyone, but - as God is my witness - but for Trader Joe's I would have no social life and my family would go hungry six days out seven. Im just sayin' ...
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
People of Walmart
People of Walmart
Never fail to make me smile
Just like the icon.
Betcha thought I was going to follow up with some snarky comment about Middle America, clinical obesity, and chronic bad taste. WRONG! Actually, what's makes me happiest about http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/ is the knowledge that there are people out there who are secure enough in ther own skins to wear whatever the hell they want to go grocery shopping. Some of them even bring livestock!
I love a good dose of chutzpah, I really do.
Never fail to make me smile
Just like the icon.
Betcha thought I was going to follow up with some snarky comment about Middle America, clinical obesity, and chronic bad taste. WRONG! Actually, what's makes me happiest about http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/ is the knowledge that there are people out there who are secure enough in ther own skins to wear whatever the hell they want to go grocery shopping. Some of them even bring livestock!
I love a good dose of chutzpah, I really do.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Mad Cat
Asked to wash the dog,
Kids went for extra credit;
Shampooed the cat, too.
...and now he's sitting in the corner, staring balefully at me. As if it was my idea. It's kind of scaring me. If I don't write any haiku for a couple of days, would someone please check on my welfare?
Kids went for extra credit;
Shampooed the cat, too.
...and now he's sitting in the corner, staring balefully at me. As if it was my idea. It's kind of scaring me. If I don't write any haiku for a couple of days, would someone please check on my welfare?
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