lolgoths #3: reader submission!

This one is from the daring meme-surfer ryanknapper. Thanks for being our first willing victim in lolgothery!

id lol but...you know

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chop, chop

chop along the dotted line 

If Hannibal Lecter were an obstetrician, these would be standard maternity wear. As it is, they’re popular among a certain set that never should have entered the gene pool in the first place.

I know waaaaay too many women who are going for cosmetic cesareans with a side of tummy tucks, rationalizing to anyone who gets within arm’s reach that the recovery time is less than a natural birth; actually, no. They just stitch you up and send you home faster. It’s major abdominal surgery, and you’ll need that trapeze in the bedroom for getting out of bed rather than any of the activities for the sake of which you went through with an elective invasive procedure. And in case you’re wondering: he’ll still cheat on you anyway. Glad to be of service!

Stolen from Gawker, who had their own, for once somewhat less pointed words to say about it.

Actually, you know, I’d love to see Fat Bastard in one of these.

Babby! The OTHER other white meat!

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words

from the Archive.
  Wednesday, September 04, 2002

I was in a writing course once and the instructor asked people for their favorite word. Felt like a freak once the others opened their mouths, but that’s okay, because everybody there, from the buzzcut lesbian to the grannies with their eyeglasses on decorator chains claimed that their favorite words were “love” “hope” “peace” etcetera. Ad nauseum. Mine was “wallapalooza” which is as far as I’m concerned as fine a word as you will find anywhere, although nauseum gives it a run for its money. I got it from Oprah, which is indeed a fine lineage for a word.

To his credit, the instructor’s face fell. Oh dear, you could see him think, one of THOSE groups. The cat ladies. He immediately dropped his usual references to Greek tragedy and substituted what he could remember of Agatha Christie, James Herriot, and, stretching a bit intellectually, Jane Austen. This was before Chick Lit, you understand.

I still like WALLAPALOOZA better than “hope!”

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then vs now

“Then” being back when I had a 9-5 (actually, more like a 5am-9pm) with Starbucks and “Now” being now that I’ve lived here long enough to be accepted as “honorary Chinese” at the shops around these parts.

Then: three kinds of pasta
Now: three kinds of seaweed

Then: Kitsilano restaurants four nights a week
Now: poverty vegetarian stirfry five nights a week

Then: jogging at two in the morning because that’s when I got home
Now: jogging at two in the morning because that’s as late as I can put it off

Then: chinos and “dress shorts” five days a week
Now: pjs and workout clothes 9-5, cocktail dresses 5-12. I think I have chinos…

Then: smelled like coffee
Now: smell like whatever Chanel scent I last bought when I had a windfall, currently Allure

Then: SpaLady gym 3x week, running in the rain
Now: climbing apartment stairwells and doing exercise videos 3x week, running in the rain

Note: never, not for a moment, consider joining a single-sex gym. At the SpaLady there was a large group (in all senses of the word) of Eastern European women, all of whom still believed that undergarments were still strictly rationed in the West. In order to preserve the structural integrity of their bras and cheap nylon granny panties, they wore them OVER their t-shirts and polyester slacks with the topstitched crease. And they did this while wearing curlers in their hair, accented with cheap polyester chiffon headscarves.

Please God I never have to see something like that again: a row of them on the stairmasters in front of me meant I would be switching to the rowing machine ASAP. A row of jiggling granny panties, with or without lace elastic ruffles, is enough to turn anyone bulimic.

how to get into Courtney Love’s pants

Doesn't she look great? 

One-time offer! Now, for the low, low price of just $99, you, too, can enjoy the experience once limited to the greatest rock star in the world and, before that, to anyone who tipped the stripper in coke.

from Gawker:

Sure, $99 seems like a lot to pay for a pair of slacks that have contained Courtney Love, but all proceeds go to the Chrysalis Organization, an organization that helps homeless people and ex-cons find jobs. It turns out that Courtney Love is a big humanitarian! Well, not as big as she used to be.

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