This is my first time playing Ian's Monday Minute at The Daily Dose of Reality! Go check him out. He rocks! And he dotes on his wife which I totally think is super spectacular. Here goes...
What's wrong with fake breasts?
Everything is wrong with fake breasts. I think people should embrace what God has given them. But onto the very basic details...when you get a little romantic, you can't feel a thing there. Duh. They're fake. What a waste. Or when they are too big and look like Dolly and weigh more than your ass. They can't weigh more than your ass. Not pretty! You can get black eyes...dangerous. Definitely not suited for certain careers like professional marathon runner, police officer, underwater basket weaver (for flotation reasons...defeats the purpose) firefighter, or professional bungy jumper.
They can also cause an imbalance. And when women get boobs like that, they look like they will tip over and that's just silly. And they are expensive. If something goes wrong...wow. Disaster. If one explodes...cancer.
The only perks would be just that...you would be perky for life. Never have to tuck 'em in your pants. Ever. Ok. So there is NOTHING wrong with fake breasts. Period. I need some.
List your latest run-in with the Carnival of Idiocy.
Stranglers...nutters...where Wrangler jeans are so horrid that men touch themselves constantly, adjust, scratch, pull at, and hold their balls in front of God and everyone. And they think I want to watch that. It is no different than the McDonald's "Chef" picking his nose and then putting your hamburger together. I would rather hang with butt crack and boxers on the gangstas than with the Cowboy Stranglers. And that's saying something...cuz butt crack ain't purty. At least then, I could dance by the moonlight or something...When men wear Wranglers, they need to be good fitting ones. Cowboy up!
I really never have a problem with people parking too close to me like Ian. In fact, I often find my police cruiser has several empty spaces around it. Go figure. And if there isn't a parking spot, I park on your lawn. Sometimes in the street, or in the yellow zone, or in the fire zone, or on the sidewalk, or the golf course pathway...but never in the handicap spots. I have scruples. And that's another idiocy...don't park in the handicap section if you are not handicapped. I slash your tires and then write you a ticket. Not really. But that's what I'm thinking. I only do one out of the two things...guess which one.
Name one thing you'd like to tell your ten year ago self.
I was pregnant. I was just puking. That's all I did. I couldn't really go back and tell myself anything like that. Because I am a chain puker. So my 42 year old self and 32 year old self would both be puking. All I know is what caused that...and we haven't done that since. LOL. [snort] just kidding about that last part.
What's your favorite word that's not in the dictionary?
Why do fools fall in love?
Because they are into self torture and weird stuff like that. Or because they are stupider (that is a word...see above) than other people. Not really. Fools are great. I'm one. Fools in love are even better. I'm one of those too. And I don't know the answer to this question. Maybe it's because love isn't easy and fools that fall in love weren't afraid and realized you have to work at it. A lot. Together. Forever. Right now I have worked 20 years off my life sentence. I always went along with Mr. T...."I pity da fool!" until later in life when I figured it out. Who the hell said that in the first place...a broken-hearted weenie? Suck it up. Fall in love. Torture yourself. Do it. Do it.