Why yes, it is a cup of bubblegumballs.
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Bling bling - yes, but it's fabulous, and it was over 50% off and I luff it so much. I don't even want to begin to think about how the hell I'm going to wash it or keep from ripping sequins off of it while I sit and fidget (my forte).
My most pressing concern, at the moment, is what do I put on my feet with such a creation?
The chick in the picture (which you can't see) is wearing gold peep-toe heels. I could do the gold, but I can't really do the heels, as the CableGuy is actually several inches shorter than moi (yes, it is true. Luckily I got over THAT issue back in 2000. As long as he weighs more than me, we're good.), I actually am not very good at conducting myself in heels, and peep-toes always make my feet feel like they are being pushed through the end of a ball-point pen.
But it is a wedding, and a fancy dress and I want to look nice. I could probably swing a low-ish heel, something an inch or so, because (as CrabbyC has pointed out) I tend to be a clodhopper in flats, which I wear pretty much exclusively, so I guess that makes me appear to be only a generation or so removed from Cletus the slack-jawed yokel most of the time. But (Yes, I start sentences with 'but' and yes, I have an English degree. Bite me.) also because there will also be much dancing and drinking and general flinging-yourself-around-a-room-full-of-people-you-don't-know-and-let's-not-faceplant-on-the-floor-and-mortify-our-friend-the-mother-of-the-bride-if-we-can-help-it.
If anyone has any ideas, thoughts or suggestions on footwear for Cletus to pair with the above frock, please, speak up. It would be much appreciated.
Now where'd I leave my banjo?
A giant bib to go along with the giant diapers that we will all be sporting while our home health aide feeds us mashed up chicken and broccoli, through a straw. Which, can I just tell you, skeeves me out to the Nth degree? I do not like my food to touch on my plate so the idea of mashing everything together and eating it makes my hands itch something fierce. Then I have to go wash them a whole bunch of times.
OCD - I has it.
Finally, and I saved the best for last (you're welcome), we have the 'Tummy Liner'.
Uh. Hmmmmm. 'Tummy' seems a bit, I don't know, light as a descriptor. But I guess that calling it what it truly is - a Meat Apron Maxi-Pad (TM) - would turn a few folks off and they'd sell a lot less of these.
I know the photo is not so great (stupid iPhone camera), but the blurb about it says that it helps 'prevent heat rash and FUNGUS (emphasis mine) that can develop under the abdominal fold'.
I'm sorry, did you say FUNGUS? How long has your nasty ass not taken a bath if FUNGUS is growing in your abdominal fold? I think that there are bigger problems to address if someone actually has a frigging mushroom farm in their fat flaps.
Although, if they've got truffles in there, well then maybe some sort of a win-win financial arrangement can be negotiated.