This blog entry is about tits.

I got to thinking about my blog the other day and how political and actually intelligent it was sounding. I was getting boring and straying from my original goal of providing ridiculous stories and observations to my fellow readers. In order to prove my point, I’m going to talk about something everyone loves—tits. Seriously, we all do. Admit it.

I was driving yesterday afternoon and I passed a billboard with a chick in a push-up bra on it. Regardless of the fact she was super hot and super airbrushed, it got me to thinking about whether push-up bras are fair. Are they false advertising or are they a revolutionary wonder? Actually, they aren’t that revolutionary. A quick read about the history of the bra on Wikipedia stated that women have been pushing their breasts up since ancient Greek times, and probably a lot earlier than that. I’m sure Eve had a terrific rack. Needless to say, this idea of heaving bosoms up to make them more noticeable has been going on for centuries, but bras are much better now and improving every day. Just because the technology is there, should we use it?

would you talk to me if my boobs didn't look this awesome if you knew in reality that nipples pointed in two different directions and lefty was smaller than righty when my bra came off?

As my lady readers will back me up, we all have that ‘one bra’ that just makes us feel spectacular. I wore mine on Sunday and felt like a million bucks. Even though it was under a grubby shirt I spilled pizza on, I still felt like Pamela Anderson . It’s that one bra where you just feel fantastic all day, even if no one else can see it. Luckily, someone else did, which just made my Sunday even better :-p

Anyways, I digress. I want to get back to whether push-up bras are the same problem as steroids are in baseball. Are women just doping up their boobs in order to score? I’ve always wondered if guys just hit on girls because they think what they are packing in the front is going to look like that when the bra comes off. Or, do you guys include that in your judgment of her appearance? This begs my original question: are push-up bras fair? As in, is it worth the eventual disappointment that a girl’s tits aren’t going to look nearly as spectacular as they do at the bar when you bring her home and realize she’s a B instead of a D? What do you guys think? Or, are you too drunk at that point to care? Is it the chase, or is it honesty?

Victoria’s Secret has a product they call the Bombshell Bra, and it instantly brings you up two cups sizes. I’ve tried this on and it was as if my boobs were encased in decorative pillows from Pier 1. It was a magnificent site (as reiterated profusely by the guy friend I was with when I tried it on). Even though it cost more that $50 and didn’t even double as a flotation device, I was still tempted to buy it. But I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone was going to be as turned when I no longer had it on. Put simply, would the one thing that was giving me attention end up being my biggest downfall?

Push-up bras are just big teases, but if you don’t tease a little, you’re not going to get what you want. Women have been told to look for a guy who likes us for who we are inside just as much as who we are on the outside, if not more. Does that mean what’s inside the bra counts too?

My debate for next time: are chicks who wear push-up bras hotter or are chicks who don’t wear bras at all hotter? Discuss.

Oh great, another post about the DC Earthquake…yawn

It happened yesterday, and I’m sick of it already. Actually, I was sick of it two hours after it happened. Let’s do the typical ‘where were you when it happened?’ story. I was in in Baja Fresh. I was about to eat some delicious tacos for lunch. I got one bite and then I felt a rumble. It couldn’t be indigestion and premature shitfire, since I wasn’t eating Chipotle. I was with my boss and she thought I was kicking the table. Since I don’t have some sort of palsy, it turned out to be an earthquake. We ran out of the restaurant and I left my delicious tacos and complimentary salsa on the table. That’s probably the real tragedy.

Actually, I didn’t know it was an earthquake at the time. Since I’m naïve, I had no reason to believe in seismic activity. Maybe it was the Wheaton Metro below me. Maybe it was a truck. Maybe, as a new friend of mine said, Albert Haynesworth got traded back to the Redskins. Needless to say, people were around me thought the Libyans bombed us or something. No, it turns out some rural area in Virginia just wanted some attention and shook shit up. That’s it.

Now, I have to deal with people (myself included) trying to be witty and making the earthquake sound more personally dramatic than it was. My friend Rachel put it best and said that everyone on Facebook was trying to make it sound like this earthquake was the worst possible thing that happened to them and them alone. No. We all felt it. As I always quote Tyler Durden, we’re not all beautiful and unique snowflakes. We’re all that same, slightly shaken up piece of organic decaying matter as everything else.

I talked to my friend Deb in Israel about it and she asked how I was. I promptly told her the earth shook because I banged her mom. You know, real mature. To be polite and to apologize for fornicating with her dear mother, I asked her how she was doing. She replied that she hasn’t been killed by rockets yet. Woah. Yeah, shit’s been put in perspective. Just like the collapse of DC during snow week, we similarly lose focus of the world and whine like little girls during a natural disaster. Israel is getting shaken on a much more devastating way and yet everyone cares more about which book fell from their bookshelf or the angle to which the pictures on their walls tilted.

I wouldn’t be surprised if this gets more attention than Japan’s earthquake or Haiti. I don’t mean to be crass. I fully believe this is going to happen. We used to be such a brave country and now a hiccup startles us into hearing crazy narratives on NPR about Gladys and her cats during the great quake of 2011. This better get a cool name like Snowmageddon did. I’m sure HOT 99.5 is hard at work on this one.

I’m not saying the earthquake wasn’t significant. Hell, I’ve always wanted to be in one since I learned about the 1906 one in third grade, and now I can cross it off my bucket list. It was scary, it was cool, now I’m over it. I’m onto bigger things and I just want everyone to do the same. I’m sick and tired of hearing about Martha in Alexandria wondering if her homeowner’s insurance will cover some of her shattered crystal or if Bob in Toronto is safe to come out of his bathtub. As far as I’m concerned, the prattling of humanity is worse than any aftershock we could possibly endure from the earthquake. Let’s move onto bigger things, like Libya, Israel and the horrific individuals running for the Republican candidacy. If Michelle Bachmann is elected president, we have a lot more to worry about than a 5.9 earthquake. She can destroy our country.

PS—I did manage to rescue my tacos. Worth it! 

nothing tastes as good as being skinny feels, which is good because my gym makes me vomit

As good looking as both of my parents are, I can’t have genetics completely carry me through life. I attribute my rocking physique with biceps and calf muscles disproportionate to my tiny stature to my commitment to the gym.  I always checked that ‘workout box’ of 3-5 times per week with pride on my online profiles. Now though, I’m beginning to question how often I should be going to the gym, because like everything I enjoy in life, people have to ruin it for me.

i wish the situation was my personal trainer.

I’m a member of the Bally’s Total Fitness family. I have been over a year now. The membership is cheap. I can use my membership anywhere in the DMV. All good things! I’d find Bally’s to be the perfect gym if it weren’t for the cretins that go there. Forget the zoo, people are so terrible at the gym that I am tempted to brave the Maryland humidity and the swamp monsters that live along the Sligo Creek Trail than go up Viers Mill to Bally’s of Wheaton. 

Here’s a typical day at Bally’s. I drive to the gym after work, and I understand that it’s peak time. Rush hour. Needless to say, there is no parking. This doesn’t stop people from parking on parts of the sidewalk or on dividers. Now, I end up on sidewalks too when I’m not paying attention while I drive, but I usually don’t park on them. At least at a gym. We all want to park closer, but it’s the gym. So what if you have to walk an extra 30 feet—YOU’RE ABOUT TO WORK OUT ANYWAYS! But here’s the shocker: people at my gym don’t go to my gym just to work out. It’s apparently a new hangout. 

I don’t understand why you can’t conduct your social business at any other place than the gym. It’s like people who conduct drug deals at the library…there has to be a better place for this. I’m cool with a little conversation here and there, but overall, if I want to talk to my friends, I’ll meet them at a restaurant, or a bar, or even a Barnes and Noble (RIP Borders). At the gym, people sit on machines without running or lifting, and hold court with 3 of their other gym buddies. I’m sick and tired of this one guy who ALWAYS sits at the triceps machine and just texts for a while. Even when I glare, he doesn’t bat an eye and continues texting his pals. I’ve even gone up to him and asked him if he was done, and he said, one second, sends a text and then gets up. It’s just as offensive as people who text during movies. Don’t you go to the movies to actually *watch* the movie?!

I’m not always the most appropriately dressed person. More than once, my roommates have exclaimed “You’re going out looking like THAT?!”. But that’s different. I’m going out to a bar or on a date. I would never dress the way I do for those instances to go to the gym, but apparently I didn’t get the message on dress code. I’ve seen guys working out in jeans (a serious no-no from even my elementary school days for gym class) and work boots. How is that even comfortable? The ladies are even worse. They come in full makeup, ripped leggings, booty shorts and shirts that make Hooters girls look like they’re as conservative as nuns in comparisons. True story: I’ve seen nipple three times.

If they actually are at the gym to work out and not to get picked up for BJs by the Jacuzzi in the basement, they look like wrecks at the end of the workout. Their faces get smeared with mascara and they usually lose an earring or fake nail along the way. Even after a heavy night of clubbing, I never look that bad. They look like really glittery car accidents. 

Here’s where it gets gross. Seriously. If you don’t want to lose your lunch, I’d suggest you don’t read any further. 

Now, I don’t know what the men’s locker room looks like at Bally’s, but I can’t imagine it any better than the woman’s room. I could complain about how it’s always out of toilet paper and the bathroom doors never lock, but that’s commonplace everywhere. No. I need to discuss gym shower etiquette. This week, I have seen one woman empty her hairbrush and leave a nasty clump of hair in the middle of the floor. I’ve heard woman make audible noises of simultaneous relief and consternation while they take massive dumps. Since there is only one changing room at Bally’s (also with a broken lock), I’m forced to change in these very bathroom stalls that people have probably dumped their digested Baja Fresh burrito in. Filthy. 

Now, I’m no prude and I like the way I look, but that doesn’t mean I parade around naked in the locker room. I know we’re all women, and it doesn’t bother me if I see a boob or a butt cheek now and then. I’ll even be nice and say I don’t care what you look like. However, there is a time and a place for everything. For instance, let’s say I weighed 250 pounds. I wouldn’t choose the middle of the hallway on the way to the shower to bend over in a stretch to touch my toes. Naked. While straddling. To put it bluntly, if I looked any closer, I probably could have seen all the way inside her to see her soul. Now, I just want to throw acid in my eyes and my brain to sear out that image.

Clyde told me the reason he doesn’t go to the gym is that he hates the way sweat smells. I thought he was being ridiculous but I get it now. It’s not the sweat, but the people who are sweating that discourage me from going to the gym. It’s a horrible dilemma because I love working out but I hate the majority of people around me. Even in yoga, people are farting and eating. So much for my chi. 

I’ll still go to the gym since if I quit my membership, there’s no way I’d work out on my own. I’m not that disciplined or financially stable to start buying medicine balls and Schwinns. But, I will complain about the hoochies on the treadmills and the lazy men who sit inside the sauna for two hours with their phones in Ziplocs so the condensation won’t stop them from texting. After all, isn’t it better to look good than to feel good? And as good as I look on the outside, that’s how homicidal I am on the inside. So don’t you dare take my fucking AbBlaster…got it?

But it's only words… they're just fucking words

I have interesting taste in music. I’ll listen to my Pandora work, and my boss lovingly refers to my station as ‘guy’ music. Pandora also thinks I’m a guy, because I get advertisements for Trojan Magnums, hot local females in the Silver Spring area and whiskey. I’m not saying these are all things girls don’t like, but they are typically more related to males. So what if my station is heavy with Nirvana, AC/DC, Guns N’ Roses, Blink 182and the Rolling Stones—it’s my station! I just consider myself to have supreme taste in music, and this often makes me popular at karaoke nights with other males.

I’ve been getting into the Foo Fighters lately after their release of Walk. I asked my sister about her thoughts on the Foo Fighters and she commented via IM “good, but fairly repetitive. Re: THE BEST THE BEST THE BEST THE BEST OF YOU”. She does have a point. The Foo Fighters do like to shout their point until it would normally give you a migraine but then you remember how awesome Dave Grohl is. I even hooked up with a guy some months ago who looked like Dave Grohl and I felt like Kate Hudson’s character from Almost Famous. Minus the overdose and all that. Oh, spoiler alert.

true story--jesus stole dave grohl's look.

The comment of my guy music also came on the same day of another language discovery. I referred to a situation as ‘awkward’ at work, and then I realized, no, it wasn’t awkward. It was inconvenient, it was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t fully awkward. I realized that my generation overuses the word ‘awkward’, as well as ‘sketchy’ and ‘random’. I think at this point, they can be used almost interchangeably, especially if you’re describing the awkward act of picking up randoms at the sketchy Quarry House Tavern.

Think about it—how often have you referred to an area as a ‘sketchy neighborhood’, filled with ‘random people’, and some homeless guy stared you down and it became ‘awkward’? We use these words daily and so often, that they’ve lost their power. If everything was as awkward as we said it was, I’d probably be agoraphobic out of the shame my actions would inevitably bring me. I’d probably carry a handgun for all the sketchy areas of Silver Spring I encounter, and believe me, it’s a lot.

I used to want to be an etymologist when I was in college and work for the Oxford English Dictionary (not to be confused with my desire to study bugs as an entomologist or my self-proclaimed role as an Entenmannsologist, one who studies overpriced coffee cake and donughtnuts).  I even wrote a 4 page paper my senior year tracing the etymology of the word ‘hook-up’—spoiler alert: it didn’t mean casual sexual activity in our grandparents time the way it does now.

Like most people who had hopes and dreams, I got jaded by the state of the world and how awful people are. Mostly, I saw how no one cares about words. Why use one word when there is a catch-all that will do? Why say someone is depraved when saying 'they really suck' will do just fine. I’m angry at how lazy our dialogue is. Our dictionary has more words than almost any other volume but we use a fraction of them with our lazy tongues and poorly informed minds. I shudder when I remember Syme’s quote from the book 1984, “Beautiful thing, the destruction of words”. Their shrinking Newspeak dictionary is a point of pride in the novel, but like everything Orwell pens, it is a chilling prediction of the inevitable in reality.

Larger words seemed only pressing in times of SATs and term papers. Now, as long as the crux of your point is understood, then all is acceptable. And that’s why I can’t study words anymore; they are a dying breed. For goodness sake, Scrabble in the UK changed their rules to accept proper nouns in game play. Are there not enough words in the regular Scrabble dictionary for people to use? Have we really forgotten our verbs so much that we can start playing words like Panera? For shame!

I am challenging all of you to take a pledge of verbosity. Use a new word instead of taking a shortcut. You’ll sound more erudite and strangers are more likely to take you seriously because they probably won’t comprehend what you’ve told them. You might even become more credible than Salmon Rushdie. Don’t let Dave Grohl and his sexy goatee fool you—they’re more than just fucking words. They are the true essence of your thoughts and feelings. If you allow them to become trite and hackneyed, then you become as dull as the dictionary gathering dust in your library. You’re all smart people, or you wouldn’t be reading this blog. Next time I see you, I want to be dazzled with your lexicon!

And just for the record, I’m not advocating randoms from the Quarry House. That never, ever, results in a good ending.