"I won't discredit you, if you don't discredit me."
We were true to our word.
Turns out I didn't need to worry so much about Holly, but rather my own Princessy self, on account of at the end of the meeting, one of the darling girls approached me with radiant beams shooting out of her smiley eyes and exclaimed, "I READ YOUR BLOG!"
And I'm like, "Oh, thank you, hahahahah—wait, what?"
Then did a supersonic mental card catalogue flip through the last 2 years of blog posts, and realized it was too. late.
Just like Ethel, she'd done already been mooned.
But at least what you see (read, hear) with me, is what you get, right? I mean, I think we all know our fair share of people who spend a fortune on makeup and dental work, since they have two faces to worry about. Usually, by the time you're in the midst of perimenopause, (the stupid spell check is underlining this word, like it's not real...like I made it up! RIGHT! LIKE I'M MAKING UP BURNING MAGMA FLASHES, APE SHIZ CRAZY MOOD SWINGS AND WHAT THE? IS THIS A SIX O'CLOCK SHADOW? WOMANLY FACIAL HAIR. Sheesh. Dumb crap spell check.) Anyway, where was I before it got so hot in here?...
Oh, yeah. Usually, by the time you're old enough to go through "life changes," you're old enough to know better. And I'm happy to say I'm learning. Sometimes still talk out of my fanny, but hopefully not both sides of my mouth. Not often, anyway.
In the end, I figured there was nothing left to do but own it. So I did.
And then I did The Snake. Plus I treated them to my signature knee grab head jerk. Because there's nothing that swipes up the attention in the room, like a foxy babe doing nubile, young dance moves.
Sorry you missed it.
(still really hot in here...has anyone seen my razor?)