Know how when you’re working on something Top Secret, like your blog that your family or co-workers know nothing about, and you just want to keep it private? So you sit hunched over your monitor trying to block the vision of prying eyes. You glace around the room suspiciously scanning for those eyes which are peering in your direction and could maybe even read that address bar from across the room where by getting your blog URI and sharing it with all of Starbucks. The very same Starbucks that your sister-in-law is known to frequent and *gasp* may hear about your blog!?
Fear not dear reader, because this beaut can cure your fear of blogging in public!
Or how about that delish sandwich you picked up from the deli downstairs? You don’t want your boss to see you eating on the job, or gawd forbid a co-worker get a whiff of your scrumptious tuna sandwich and come over to talk about how great your lunch smells and then proceeding to hang around and watch you chew while they ask a MILLION questions even though they KNOW your mouth is full of scrumptious sangwhich.
Hide out peeps. Hide out while sitting at your desk while totally inconspicuous.
Ever not answer your cell because your hand gets cold while walking during those frigid winter months? Just think of the possible calls you could have missed? Dane Cook calling to tell you he wants to be your Baby Daddy? Matthew McConaughey calling to say he’s leaving Camilia for you? You won the Publisher’s Clearing House? How about a publisher wanting to take your tacky blog which makes fun of people’s creations and making it into a coffee table book?
Hey, it could happen. It ALL could happen.
But because your hand would have frozen to the core and you can’t lose your hand because then blogging at Starbucks would be far more difficult to conceal while pounding away at the key board with a stump frozen limb you didn’t answer the phone.
And what about those all too Top Secret passwords which open the gates to your online life? Imagine that Starbucks creeper, spying you from across the room and seeing the magical string of letters, number and symbols you type, then announcing it publicly to the Starbucks crowd at the location your sister-in-law frequents?
Seriously people, Teh Horror!
And instead of cupping your hand over the other while you hen peck out the Magical Password while peering around the room for said Creeper, you could be confident in your password’s safety.
Totally off topic.
What’s with all the Macs everywhere? The universe is taunting me people. UN. FAIR.
P.S. Sternlab has some of the funniest and most amazing things. I LOVE IT!! Frankly I think Becky Stern is brilliant and I wouldn’t mind rubbing on her. Just sayin’.
Once in high school a friend and I were rooting through The Junk Drawer in her kitchen for something which I can’t recall. There was the typical crap – shoe laces, batteries, cards, et cetera, et cetera. I lifted an old birthday / holiday / something card and beneath it? A big ol’ set of dentures.
Is it still considered a set even if it’s only a top or a bottom? Because this one only one pallet of teeth.
After I recovered from the initial shock of Teeth! in a Drawer! I about peed my pants in a fit of giggles.
Why am I telling you about this? Because these reminded me how creepy I find dentures to be
Looks like an innocent pair of dentures, right?
Looks can be deceiving because these bad boys are SOAP.
*blink*
*blink*
*stare*
*blink*
*blink*
Yes. Soap.
*blink*
*blink*
Right now, you’re totally thinking about scrubbing your body clean with a set of teeth, aren’t you?
Yup. You are. I knew it.
What if you had dentures AND denture soap.
Now, wouldn’t that suck to toss this set of chompers in your mouth by accident?
I am fasinated with strippers. I don’t know why or what it is, but while in my early college years, and a little after, I as not shy to go to the strip club with girlfriends and watch girls dance.
Strange right?
We used to meet up and go to the local strip club and drink, shoot pool and critque the dancers (because we knew what was going on) until some of the girls complained that they were uncomfortable dancing while there were girls in the house.
Girls dancing on a stage and being ogled by men sitting inches from them have sexual fantasies didn’t creep them out, but the girls in the back playing pool? CREEPY!
I digress.
Because if I were a stripper I would definitely be adding these pasties to my outfit.
Oh Canada!! Now stand at attention gentleman.
Is that a maple leaf or a cross? A sequin cross on a boobie tassel? Oh, the sacrilege.
Hand knitted shell-like shapes with fluffpipe cleanersfeathers mock feathers? I can feel my nipples getting itchy and sweaty already.
For your special wedding day on stage, your very own crystallized ta-ta tassels. HOT. Imagine expecting the bride to come down the aisle in a wedding dress, you turn as the music starts, standing and waiting patiently then you see this:
I can tell you this: if I saw some battle axe coming down the aisle with a body like that I’d be running up to her and asking for her secret.
These ones? For the arachnoid lover.
WTF!? Is that a tongue.
What better to lick you with my dear.
But these ones take the cake people. Nothing like a your boos giving you the low down on what’s happening below.
Pasty vaginae for your boobies.
OMG. That even grossed ME out.
Thank Casey from Moosh in Indy for sharing these. You can blame her for my entirely inappropriate post.
Groundhog Day, the day of the year where we rip a helpless, fat animal from the confines of its warm and cozy hole only to shake it about in freezing cold to see if the sun radiates off its back.
Sounds like I could be describing something entirely different, doesn’t it?
All for human entertainment we subject these useless fat animals to cameras, lights, screams and jeers from throngs of people who surround them hoping for a prediction of a shorter winter.
If you want to know if winter’s going to be shorter, go stand outside and see if your shadow is visible, works the same, no? Silly human.
Know what I’d love to see?
That stupid man dressed in a tux and top hat that gets attacked by a rabid Cujo-like gopher groundhog.