Satan's pants

I'm wearing a torture device, aka my skinny jeans. And not the skinniest jeans I own, those won't even fit around my "thighs like what." These are the jeans that last year at this time fit me great, not tight at all. Today I'm a little concerned that the button might decide to give out and shoot across the room, possibly poking someone's eye out. I'm having questionable thoughts as to if I should even be wearing these jeans. I'm pretty sure if I saw me walking down the street in these things I would think I was deluding myself if I thought these fit good. And I'm not going to ask TGD what he thinks, that would just be cruel and unusual punishment to put him on the spot like that. There's no easy way to answer that question - "No, your ass is too big" would most definitely send me into tears (or rage, whatever) and "They look fine" is just a vague way of saying they look like crap. So WHY am I wearing these? Because I really really want to tell myself that I'm not that far off from what I used to look like and I'm hoping they'll discourage any attempts at snacking. Do you think tight jeans might be like corsets and physically change my bone structure if I wear them long enough? Yeah, probably not. I don't think a button and denim fabric have that kind of hold, not like steel boning and ties. I'm pretty sure the only thing these tight jeans are doing to my body is giving me gas from the constricting waistline. Or maybe that was lunch causing all that. I'm also telling myself all sorts of excuses as to why these jeans are so painful today, like I just got them out of the dryer and I'm pretty sure they shrunk. In any case my gut is painfully protesting the constriction and it's time to go put on some jeans that fit (aka my fat jeans).

I wouldn't make a very good captive. I caved to torturous jeans after only 20 minutes.

Okay, and that last post - the title is in reference to a song by the Gap Band "You dropped a bomb on me." A GREAT song. So if you haven't heard it go download it on iTunes. You'll be singing it all day and trying really hard not to bob your head.

She dropped the bomb on me, baby

So I was checking out the most recent post on my sister's blog (www.mias-toophat.blogspot.com , which you should be reading if you haven't been already because it's a helluva lot better than my piece of crap blog, plus she posts a lot more) and she dropped the F-bomb. I don't know if I blogged about this before (probably because I tend to talk about the same junk over and over) but I secretly (or no so secretly depending on how well you know me) like to swear. I do. When I'm with the right crowd I can cuss like a sailor. The only word I tend to shy away from unless I'm seriously pissed off is the F-bomb. It's the way I was raised I think. My mom would swear only if she hurt herself or some other extreme circumstance, and even then it was a mild "Shit!" or "Dammit!" I have NEVER heard her say the F word and I highly doubt she ever will say it. I think the world would end or something. It would definitely mean the apocolypse is here. Now, my dad would swear on a regular basis and he had his favorites - "son of a bitch" was a favorite, usually mixed in with a "goddamn" and "piece of shit." A lot of times he would combine all them together. However he too is not one to say the F word. I'm pretty sure he has but I don't recollect ever hearing it. So I tend to take after both my parents - usually only muttering the occasional swear but I can also really let go with a string of cursing. And I find myself really letting go when I'm not with my kids (it's my way of celebrating). I'm particularly bad in the car when I'm by myself. I use words that I would never admit to saying to anyone. In the car is where I get creative with my swearing - using odd combinations and experimenting with all the foul slang I can think of - the kind of language that if I told you, you'd have to do the fake he-he laugh because you'd be too embarassed to do anything else. So there. Now you know. I swear. And if you ever hear me say the F word just back away slowly, because there's probably some serious shit goin' down.

drugs

There was an advertisement for some drug on TV the other night. I don't remember what it was for because I wasn't paying that close attention but it seemed to have a ridiculous number of side effects - one of which was death. Hmmm, I don't know of what kind of illness/pain would make me go "So what if I might die, I'm willing to take that chance to get rid of this ---." And have you all seen the male enhancement drug advertisements? I don't like the one where the couple is sitting in bath tubs outside and holding hands. What the? I don't get that at all. Is that the right commercial or is that for something else? Well, even if it's not a commercial for a bigger dong I still don't get the whole bathtub thing.

Milk jugs

So I don't know how many of you have heard about the breastfeeding bruhaha going on over on Facebook so here's a quick synopsis: Some lady got into a tizzy because the Facebook people took her picture off her page after a few others had complained that it was inappropriate. She was nursing her child and apparently had some boobage showing. So now she's started some new group to support nursing mothers blah blah blah. And apparently they had a "nurse in" over at Facebook headquarters (where I think less than 10 women showed up). I'm currently a nursing mom and I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. First of all, some lady was quoted as saying "I have a 9 month old baby so trying to get a picture of me not nursing is pretty impossible." Really? Give me a break. So I know there's a bunch of nursing whack jobs out there who are really into it - fine, whatever. I don't really care for nursing in public. I don't like the smocks, they get in the way and I can't see what I'm doing - plus they're hot and I hate to sweat. So that leaves me with trying to cover up as much as possible with my shirt, which is okay except for when my baby decides to pop off and leave me with my giant nipple hanging out (oh, and I have to pull up my shirt so my lovely back fat is all exposed). I end up just trying to nurse at home or in the car, etc. But part of me gets mad that I have to be so sneaky about it because I think "that's what breasts are for! That's what God made them for!" Yes, they can be erogenous zones but so are men's nipples and I don't see society making them cover up. See, I think women starting covering up their own breasts because it's more comfortable for them. Have you ever tried running without a bra on? Ouch! I'm sure those cavewomen decided that fashioning some sort of over the shoulder boulder holder was much more comfortable than letting those things just sway about all willy nilly. Not to mention that when you nurse you tend to have milk shooting out everywhere and that just gets messy. And now 50 billion years later by covering them up we've made them taboo. That's fine, I don't really have any desire to start going around topless (once again there's that comfort factor to take into consideration). But it bugs me that men still treat them like something sexual when it's obvious I'm trying to feed my kid. Look the other way for crying out loud! If you're that desperate for a peak at my National Geographic saggy boobs go buy a freaking porn magazine - they look a lot nicer than mine! See, I have to worry about those perverts when I'm trying to feed my child because I can feel the glances I get when I nurse in public. Gross! Therefore, to preserve my modesty and privacy I try to avoid those situations - let alone have someone take a picture of me while nursing. But I understand those women who don't feel like they should have to be modest while nursing because at that point our breasts just become feed bags, or milk jugs if you will. So I guess I'm neutral on the whole thing. Any other opinions?