Is it good thing to "fall off the wagon", I never know, because being on the wagon seems pretty smart, I mean it is the fastest way right? I also have trouble when someone says something fell through. Is that good or bad. If your plans fell through does that mean that they are happening or not. I guess it is bad, like if your dog fell through the ice that would pretty much suck. So maybe it is bad that plans fell through. Oh, never mind.
Life has been pretty busy, which is a good thing. My vanilla life is starting to get some colored sprinkles, not enough for a "mix-in" but enough for a child's sundae. But with the sprinkles, I start to neglect the ole' blogo. Which is why I fell off the wagon, or on the wagon, see it all comes full circle. So today I have a segment called having fun with flappers.
Some background...my girlfriends and I had a conversation once about what era would be suit our body type. My friend has a tiny waste so we always said she would be a good "fit" for the fifties, in her cinched waste and poodle skirt glory. Me, on the other hand, I seem to carry my weight in the middle but I have thin legs...so the seventies would be my era, complete with babydoll short dresses, think Goldie Hawn on Laugh In. However, I totally forgot about the 20s and while the 70s would be groovy, I think being a flapper would be the Cat's Meow. The flapper was an icon, challenging notions about gender roles and demanding the same social freedoms as men. Drinking, smoking, bootlegging they always looked like they were having a ball. Not to mention the too cute fringe short dresses, nothing masks a belly than some black fringe. Of course, this would have only been cool until 1928, I then would have to get the hell out of dodge because after that things pretty much went into the crapper.
So today I share some photos (found on the Internet) these are not my photos. But check out how much fun these ladies were having. And since we don't know what they are saying I have captioned each picture with some of my recent email conversations with my girls, sorry bitches some things are too funny not to share.
"They are like a size 2 or 4 and have fake ta-ta's, so they look amazing, I wish I had the balls for fake ones. Damn all my plastic phobias!"
Those bitches (oops I mean ladies) better not give me shit. I am not happy on this low carb shit and I may tell them all to go suck it. No more whining, they either step up or I will tell how it is. I swear, who gives that much crap about Bunco, for the love of Pete, get a life. 
"Is there such a thing as "too tacky" at a chili cook-off? I guess I could just black out a tooth, but I think the tequila shots would just wash it off."
"And you know what I could do with that extra $20.53 I'd rake in! Woo-hoo, Dollar General baby, here I come...they sell Boones Farm right?" 
"So now they are shitting their pants because they don't know what to do with all the hookers. And they weren't young hot hookers, they were older worn out hookers." 
"I think passing it off as a fart is your best bet and avoid the incline sit-ups in the future! If it makes you feel any better I sharted on Saturday while driving the fam around...I'm not joking at all...actual had to throw the panties away shart...It was pretty humiliating, but after eating healthy, that is what BK onion rings did to me."
"OK girls, Plan B, we may want to get a jump on developing those Leopard Printed Depends...it looks like we all may need them earlier than later."
