Cleavage For Christ

AJ, the boy, and myself went to the city today to do a little shopping. We stopped and ate lunch at CiCi's Pizza. It isn't my favorite place in the world to eat but it has pretty good pizza, it's all you can eat, and it's cheap. All parents of pre-teen boys can understand the virtues of these three elements. We showed up around 1:00 pm and arrived after one round of After-Church eaters and before the next round.

We made our way through the buffet line and easily found a clean table, as the busboys were hastily cleaning the many recently vacated seats. Just as we started to eat, in walked the next round of After-Church eaters. It seemed that there was no end to the line of people walking in. One other thing caught my attention. The group was mostly women. And the great majority of them were very well endowed and wearing low cut dresses that showed off cleavage for days. Now I have never given thought of joining any cult but this group of large breasted women could very well make a believer out of me.

As they came off the line, they started pushing the small tables together. In short order they had surrounded us. Cleavage to the left of me, cleavage to the right, cleavage in front, and cleavage behind. We finished up our lunch and headed out on our merry way before being totally engulfed in breasts. (AJ seemed to be in a bit of a hurry.)

I can't help but keep thinking on a religion based on 'Cleavage for Christ.' The way that they showed such togetherness by pushing their tables together and breaking bread with one another. They seemed so inseparable that even a Cross Your Heart Bra could not keep them apart. It's enough to melt even the heart of a hardened cynic. Yes amazing breasts how sweet the sight that saved a wretch like me.

That's What Friends Are For

Not being a big C&W fan for the most part, I generally don't watch CMT but as not a damn thing is on television Friday nights, I found myself watching, 'Can You Duet'. Tonight was the audition stage and since it is basically a reformatted country duo version of American Idol it used the same formula. Every once in a while a decent act followed by a dozen no talent bums. One duo got my attention though.

A couple of the contestants stated to the host before they went on that they were a group and there was no way that they would split up if the judges picked one but not the other. Sure enough it happened. The judges liked one of the girls but not the other. When asked if she would like to go on without her partner, the girl needed a few moments to think it over. They walked out into the hallway and the chosen girl cried and said she wouldn't do it. The passed over girl gave her a hug and said nothing.

What kind of friend is that? Friends don't hold friends back. She should have offered her congratulations, wished her friend luck, and told her that she would take care of her friends pets, plants, etc. and then if she needed to get even she could always bang her friends boyfriend. After all that's what friends are for.

On a side note, the chosen girl eventually told the judges that she would go on, the friends hugged and all was well.

Fat Chicks Can't Jump

There is an ignorant redneck fuck driving around town in a jacked up pickup truck. All across his rear glass is a mural that reads, 'Lift It - Fat Chicks Can't Jump.'

I hate to tell this dumbass but while it might be true that Fat Chicks Can't Jump, it is equally true that a mob of large pissed off women can jerk him out of his truck and beat the living hell out of him.

A Lounge Around Post

For a long time, I resisted lounge pants. In the summer, I wear shorts around the house and during winter, I wore my Wranglers both at the house and out and about. AJ had tried to get me to buy some lounge pants seemingly forever, but I refused. I never saw lounge pants as the manliest of garbs. I am not saying that I thought that a wearer of lounge pants was gay or anything, it just didn't seem right. Soft cotton on men seemed suited for t-shirts and drawers but I was always about some tough ass denim to protect me from the hazards of the world.

But a couple of years ago, AJ got tricksy. She bought me a pair of lounge pants for Christmas, but she didn't give them to me as a gift. No she was much tricksier than that. She had my young son give them to me as a Christmas gift. That way when I opened the gift in front of his bright smiling hopeful face, I was forced to say thank you and beam with dumb-eyed gratitude when he asked if I liked them. I was even forced to wear them.

And you know what, Damn them things were comfortable. And AJ had even bought a manlier pair than most that I had seen. They had tribal designs and skulls all over them. For the past two years, I have worn the everlovin' shit out of my lounge pants. I have never bought another pair but by god I wear these sumbitches all the time around the house. (I still would never be seen in public in the damn things.)

I leave em crumbled up beside my side of the bed when I'm not wearing them until AJ finally gets sick of it and hauls it to the laundry room. Hell, I just wear them around the house. How could they get dirty after one to two dozen wearings? But now my lounge pants have seen better days. And I know that no matter how many times that I tell AJ that they are fine and they are just now getting to their optimal comfort level, soon I will come home and find them missing. Like a favorite pair of holey underwear, or a well in broke barbecue-stained tee-shirt.

Yes soon I must shop for some more lounge pants. Maybe this time I won't get a pair with skulls but I do need a pair that is manly as lounge pants can get. Perhaps with large breasted naked women. Hell I'm just wearing them around the house. It could get me two fold entertainment value, in the first place it will make AJ even angrier and two if the Jehovah's Witness Man shows up at my door, I will give him something to pray about.

I'm Back

I suppose it is strange but I couldn't stop hanging around this place and with every comment that I read, I felt like sticking up a post. I found in the short time that I was gone (compared to the long time that I was gone), that there are some things that I just can't say anywhere else. This was my first home in blogging. It is where I first found my voice to spew my nonsense at the world, and I can't post the pin-ups that I love so much at my other joint. So Fuzz is back. I have missed him.

Damn, I sound blogpolar. I really need to work on this multiple blog personality thing.