Mommy Monday

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Hey ladies. This weekend while doing laundry I had a revelation and now its turning into a revolution. I just need a small army of XX chromosomes to back me up. I know we are usually divided on so many subjects: politics, religion, which Bachelor contestant should get a rose…but today, we must all unite against our common enemy: the built-in camisole bra.

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Seriously, who are these “bras” helping?! They’re basically like an Oklahoma congressman toward teachers: completely unsupportive.  They either let The Girls hang so low you’ve pretty much got a plumber’s crack on your chest OR they smoosh everything together so that you’ve got the dreaded uni-boob.

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These deceptive articles of clothing may say that they come equipped with straps for “easy adjusting” but DO NOT BE FOOLED! They will do nothing but fill you with false hope and just end up letting you down, if you catch my drift. Yes, I know; the thought of wearing a shirt without that pesky bra strap sneaking out sounds tempting, but do not trust the enemy!

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And while we’re talking about failures in fashion, what’s with the built-in bra’s cousin “built-in underwear”? I have a few pairs of running shorts with underwear already in them. WHO IS NOT WEARING UNDERWEAR WHILE RUNNING?! Why would the creators of these shorts think I need TWO sets of underwear? After working out in the Oklahoma heat, its difficult enough to peel my shorts off of my sweaty, stuck-together thighs and they want to add another hurdle?! Just stop. Stop with the “built-in” crap. Let me have my spaghetti straps without the extra hindrance and give me shorts that won’t make me feel like I’m putting on Spanx to hit the treadmill.

Unite with me, ladies!

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Will You Sign My Petition?

So, I heard on the news that President Obama has a new item in his inbox, given to him from some very concerned Americans. No, its not about the budget crisis or unemployment…Its a petition to have Justin Bieber’s visa revoked and sent back to the land of maple leafs and Tim Horton’s. 

Yep. These folks want the Biebs out. His egg-throwing/Miami-partying hi-jinx have ticked off far too many people. So the people went to the interwebs and started a petition. And after the petition received over 100K signatures, it was sent on to the POTUS’s desk. Seriously. 

So this got me thinking: if a petition like this can make its way to the Commander in Chief’s office, what other things could he take a look at? 

Here are my top 3 petition ideas: 

1. What’s with the size of water cups?!

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Okay, so, I try really hard to not drink soda. Mostly because the caffeine affects me weird. But also because it really dehydrates you. I’m training for a marathon; I cannot be dehydrated! So when me and Huff the Hubs go out to eat (normally at a fast food place) and I ask for water, they give me a teeny, tiny shot glass for my water. Same thing at the movie theater! Its either that or pay $4 for a bottle of water! That’s just ridiculous!  People shouldn’t be penalized for drinking water. Its water for goodness sakes! Sheesh!

 

2. Why do the number of hot dog buns and actual hot dogs not match up?!

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Seriously. This should be a priority.  

 

3. If there are people that want to get The Biebs out of ‘Merica, why aren’t more people signing a petition to evict the Kardashians as well?

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Yes, I know they’re Americans. But couldn’t we just lump them in too? Or at least get them off the air? Or at the very least, get Khloe and Kourtney to smile every once in a while and maybe make Bruce not so scary-looking?  

 

What would you like to sign a petition for? And no, it can’t be for this blog to go away. You’re stuck with me, turds. 

Music Snobs

A Music Snob in his natural habitat…Looking smugly upon those with iPods.

I can’t stand music snobs. You know the types. You’ll start talking to someone you don’t really know at a party you didn’t really want to go to, eating food that isn’t “on your plan”, so instead of wallowing in eater’s remorse, you decide to turn the person next to you and start an uncomfortable and awkward conversation until one of you has to pee or spontaneously combusts from eating too many jalapeño poppers.

Your go-to question as you stand awkwardly hiding the fact that you’ve just double-dipped in a communal salsa bowl…?

“So, what kind of music do you like?”

It’s an easy question. Generally there’s no possibility of a political or religious debate that can turn even the decent of people into rabid, snarling dogs, eagerly staring at your jugular.

However, unbeknownst to you, you’ve just asked the most innocent of questions to a Music Snob. So when you ask: “What kind of music do you like?” you are in no way ready for their response.

First, they have to take off their black rimmed glasses, adjust one of their many scarves, sigh heavily and then rattle off some band that you’ve never heard of. Generally, these bands have ridiculous names:

The Purple Lunchboxes

Gas Cans on a Freeway

 Or

A Cheetah for my Antelope

 

(Sidebar: how do these people come up with such ridiculous names? I’d like to be a fly on the wall when this happens.

Guy #1: “So, we really need to think of a good name for our band.”

Guy #2: “Can we do this later? I’ve got a wicked-bad herpes flare going on. I don’t feel like singing.”

Guy #3: “That’s it! We’ll call ourselves The Flaming Lips!”

Guy #1: “Done. Let’s order lunch.”

I digress.*)

 

Back to the party.

After the music snob has told you the many bands she’s seen at The Conservatory, The Blue Door, or Picasso’s Cafe, you respond with a “Huh, never heard of them.” After a horrified gasp, she looks at you like you’ve just drop-kicked a baby while wearing a coat made of kittens.

So when asked what music you like, you rack your brain trying to think of a band that won’t make you look like an idiot while still holding true to your tastes. You’d hate to start a fight in the middle of a party. Even though it might give you an excuse to leave—possibly with a police escort.

“Uh, The Beatles,” you reply. Play it safe. Everyone likes The Beatles.

“Yeah, me too,” the Music Snob replies.

You’re relieved. You let yourself mindlessly pick up another jalapeño popper. You’re just about to wash it down with some Diet Coke when the Music Snob adds: “But only on vinyl.”

BOOM.

You spontaneously combust all over her orange skinny jeans and sparkly TOMS.

 

 

 

(*I mean no disrespect to The Flaming Lips. I know they’re Oklahoma-bred, so even though I’m not their biggest fan, I still have Okie love for them. And for those of you that don’t get my sarcasm, I’ll give you some friendly advice. Get a sense of humor. They’re nice. They make life a lot easier.)