Not much to report over here at Blither Blather headquarters. It's a total den of slackers. The boybarians are actually begging me to do laundry. Go figure... I'm pretty much pants-optional this summer. Who needs socks and underwear in the summer time anyway??? That's so passe... I tell them to think creatively... and go dig sumpin' outta the dirty hamper. Now that's ol' school thinking for ya.
Oh, and I've stopped cooking too. Looks like somebody is slackin' on laundry and kitchen slut duties and will probably be on strike until....whenev.
I've decided to take one for the lady team and join my gal pals on the Million MILF March of Magic Mike. Honestly, getting all glammed and bedazzled to hoot and holler over 'ol long in the tooth Matthew McConoughey is a tad embarrassing...and pathetic...and desperate. But hopefully there will be some drinking involved to help me numb the memory, and we will manage to keep our $1 bills in our wallets...
Lastly, I have an appt with a boob expert on Monday. You would think that I would get a little extra attention over here at BB headquarters. Ho no, sirree! Mr B just keeps trying to feel me up (all in the name of science), and the boybarians just keep talking about video games and ninja stars. This crew is oblivious to the Victorian vapors....sigh!
Fingers crossed for the appointment on Monday! I'm pretty sure that I piss off the "Big Man Upstairs" on a second to second basis...but a little thing like that is not gonna stop me from sending prayers up about this appointment and everything surrounding it! <3
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