Bresticular Asymmetry

Ladies, do you have bresticular asymmetry?

Are your boobs different sizes? No, not from person to person...stop staring at the boobs of the lady next to you. She is probably getting creeped out, even if she is into chicks.

Seriously, cut it out.

I mean, is your right boob a different size than your left boob? Mine is. In fact, my right boob is such an over-achiever that it is almost a whole cup size bigger. So I am a B on my left side, and almost a C on my right. I have named them Stumpy and Megatron, respectively.

What are you looking at?

I was told by my doctor when I was a teenager that this problem would sort itself out by my early twenties, but clearly that is not the case as I remain lopsided and I am going to be 27 this fall...I think it is here to stay.

Told patient with freakishly lopsided bresticles that they would even out.
Pft...in her dreams. Freak.

This lopsidedness creates a boobtacular problem with shirts and dresses, where Megatron likes to hog all of the garment, while Stumpy is so little and weak she can't even fight back. So I end up looking like this:

Megatron, can you just LET IT GO?! You are making everything lean slightly to the right...

Also, have you tried buying bras for this particular problem? If I get a bra to fit Stumpy, Megatron is all "GAH! I'm busting out of here!" But if I buy one to fit Megatron, Stumpy is all like "WHEEEEEE! Time to wiggle and jiggle around like a crazy bowl of Jell-O at a rave!"

Wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle, YEAH!

One possible solution to this is to wear a "chicken cutlet" in your bra every single day, but I'll be damned if I am shoving a fake tit under my disproportionately smaller (albeit real) boob everyday.

Also, they feel all plastic-y and rubbery and trap sweat against you so you feel like your  boob
is wrapped in saran wrap. Just what I have always wanted, a boob pruned by my own sweat.
Awesome.

Well, fear not fellow bresticular asymmetry sufferers! You can now purchase your bras in HALVES. This might be the sweetest thing for lopsided boobs ever! I can now conceivably purchase a big ol' holster for Megatron and a little baby holster for Stumpy and they will work together in perfect harmony to promote happiness (mine) and anti-jiggling (them).

The Boob Wars are over, no thanks to you Victoria's Secret...bitch.

One more thing ladies: Don't let any guy get you down about the lopsidedness of your boobs. They are in no position to get all judgmental about dangly bits of anatomy because testicles are weird as hell.

Testicles also sometimes make you do weird things, like attach disembodied balls to your vehicle.
I do not recall ever wanting to attach areolas or labias to my vehicle...

The Marthas

We have already established that I am Domestically Challenged. If you have no idea what I am talking about, read part one and two and bask in my ineptitude. I'll be here when you are done...

Okay, now that you are back, this article isn't about yet another facet of my ineptitude, it about the nemesis of all Domestically Challenged people: The Marthas. Those people that can keep their houses clean, their kids fed perfectly balanced meals, their laundry done and folded, and still somehow they have time to bake a pie, make a quilt, and can some jam. Why do I call them Marthas?

Exhibit A: The all-knowing bitch who makes me look bad.
Damn you Martha! DAMN YOU!

These bitches do it all, and it is perfect, like some sort of ultimate 1950's housewife. You want to slap them in the face and steal their super powers so you can have a clean toilet and folded laundry too.

Maybe we can sing about how a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down
while our house magically cleans itself!

All of us suffering from Domestically Challengeditis know at least one Martha, be it a friend or a family member, and there are times that you just want to strangle them with the dirty laundry laying in your hallway. Did you know some of the Marthas find housework FUN?!

Bitch, I will stab the perfection out of you! Also, I have crazy eyes!

My personal Martha is none other than my mother. I love her, but she has super powers that I just didn't inherit. Our house growing up was always clean, our laundry was always folded, we always had good food. And you are saying,"Well, yeah it always SEEMS like mom's have super powers until you get older and realize they are human too."

I am here to tell you, my mother is not human. She is a reincarnation of Hestia or something...

Did you give all of your super powers to my sister?! I demand answers! Stop laughing at me while I attempt to clean...

My mother is adamant that she is NOT a Martha, but may I point out that within three hours of moving into her apartment, all of her stuff was unpacked, in its place, the dishes were washed and put away, and everything had been vacuumed? THAT. FUCKING. HAPPENED.

Not to mention, when she comes to my house stuff magically gets done.

Holy fucking hell Momet! Are those...are those a PAIR of socks?! And they are both clean?! WTF...

She maintains that anyone can do it if they set their mind to it. I beg to differ. I set my mind to it and COMMIT to the goddamn task at hand, yet I end up hours later in the same place wondering what the hell went wrong.

What in the hell happened? I thought I had one load left to do...what do you mean "Where's dinner? I was focused on the task at hand!"

All in all, Marthas are okay people. They just make you really, really sad about your domestic skills.

Like, all of the sad. ALL OF IT.

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Also, after staying late at work the first two nights of the week last week, I get this series of texts from my husband on Wednesday:

He is using the power of pig cuteness to lure me home...bastard knows my weakness...

Only You Can Prevent Sweaty Ass Crack

What the fuck, people who work out before they go to their jobs? I don't mean the people who go to a gym super early and then shower after. While you guys are clearly overachievers that want me to feel bad about myself, this isn't about you and your craziness.

Even the sun wants to know what the fuck you think you are doing being awake at this hour.

I am talking about the people who ride their bikes, run, or jog to get to work. Or the people who run or jog on their lunch break. AND THERE ARE NO SHOWERS WHEN THEY GET THERE.

This stuff is required after exercise. Rubber ducky is optional I guess...if you have no soul...

Do these people not sweat? Do they not have B.O.? Are they ALIENS?! I know that I sweat like a Wookie on Tatooine and smell even worse when I exert myself even a little bit. The idea of coming into work without cleaning up after is abhorrant to me and would be everyone else who had to sit near me.

All I did was raise my arms and my deodorant was gone...dammit. 

These people show up, all red faced and soaked in sweat, change into work clothes (or worse, put their work clothes over their spandex...or even worse, just go with the spandex...ugh) and go about their day.  Um...what the fucking fuck guys? Not cool.

*Sniff* Ahhhh! I smell like the ass-end of a rotting buzzard! Time to go to work!

I'm not saying it isn't a commendable idea to bike, run, or walk to work. It is good for the environment and good for you. It is not good for your co-workers who have to smell you for the rest of the day. Work sucks enough already without having to smell your raunchy butt odor wafting through the halls.

Remember friends: Only YOU can prevent SAC (Sweaty Ass Crack)

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On a completely unrelated note, did you know that Cadbury makes a creme egg for Halloween now?! I shit you not my friends, it exists!

I ate this in my car while I wallowed in my shame. Delicious, delicious shame.

Is there a dress code?

Last summer was my first summer at my current job, and my first experience with the “reliability” of their air conditioner. It crapped out in mid-June and they didn’t replace it until mid-October. Re: way too goddman late to do anyone any good for the year. Safe to say it was a fucking hot and uncomfortable summer.

I'm melting! MELTING!!!!!

In early June of this year, the air conditioner that they replaced last fall shit the bed after two uses. Of course, the weather then went from seasonably warm to oh-my-god-why-have-my-shoes-melted-to-the-goddamn-pavement hot. Luckily it was a problem that was fixable within a few weeks; however, the time in-between wasn’t pretty. I had blocked out most of the fashion faux pas that happened around the office last summer, but I am having less success this summer. Maybe because this summer is much warmer and the clothing is even worse. Here is just a small sampling of the more tasteful faux pas:

Do not wear any of these. Especially to work.

Now, I am no fashion plate, but here is my list of things people wore to the office that I feel they should really not ever even have put on. Horrible things I will never be able to forget...

• Spandex shorts - These are a no to everyone wearing them outside of the realm of exercising. Short, tall, fat, skinny: just don't do this to your fellow human beings. This includes you, dude who wears a cycling unitard at work. That spandex unitard you are sporting while working is meant strictly for cycling. No one wants to see the exact shape of your dong.

Spandex Man! Making work uncomfortable for everyone!

• 1980’s super pleated acid wash jean anything - Shorts, jumpers, rompers, skirts...I don't care, don't wear acid wash anything. It looks like ass on everyone.

Let's get you back to your decade before your perm grows out...

• Creepy tiny 70’s workout shorts - Guys, no. If a tween girl wouldn't wear shorts that short, you are not allowed to. No one wants to see your hairy ass or be terrified of the very real possibility of accidental penis exposure. If you pair those shorts with the knee high athletic socks, you need to to be slapped and sent back to the 70s with your porn-stache.

GAH! Do me a favor, don't move until I can run away. Far away.

• Stained wife beaters - It's stained dude. Ew. I don't even want to know what kind of stain that is...did you wrestle a raccoon in a dumpster and lose? That shit goes in the trash.

• See-through wife beaters - I can see your moobs and your nipples. Please stop harming my brain like this.

This is a magical combination of stained, see-through, and redneck...

• Socks with sandals - This is never acceptable. You either wear sandals or closed-toe shoes. It is all or nothing, so make a fucking decision and live with it.

This is just fucking ridiculous.

• Pants, shorts or skirts that have been hiked up to just under the boobs - Stop this nonsense now. If your pants are further up than your natural waist, you might as well just wear a sign saying "LOOK AT MY GUNT" because that is what those pants will be creating, no matter how skinny you are.

This is taking things to the extreme...

• Pants, shorts or skirts that are showing your ass-crack - I have no interest whatsoever in what kind or color of underpants you are wearing, seeing your tramp-stamp, or finding out that you are not in fact a natural blonde.

From the front, you can which one is really a redhead...

• Clothes that are really too small - This does not make you look sexy, thinner, or flatter you in any way. I'm not talking about slightly too small, I mean the people that look like they purchased their clothing in the kids department when they really should be shopping in plus sized. I have gained a bit of weight, but I dress to fit my current body. You will always look better and feel better if you dress the body you have, instead of the body you want to have.

Nope, you still don't have Heidi Klum's figure. Damn.

• Exposed bra straps - This is a thing that became popular with tweens, probably as a way to let everyone know that they were sprouting enough boob to wear a bra. As a grown up, the only proof we need to see is that your girls are locked and loaded, not all tits-a-floppin'.

Are you 12? No? Then don't do this.

• Wrong color bra - I don't understand how some women haven't figured out that white bras do not go under white shirts. You can see that shit. Even less understandable are the women who wear bright, super lacy monstrosities under light-colored tops. Perhaps they want it to be noticed, but please ladies: be a skank on your own time. The office isn't the place to sell your boobs to the lowest bidder.

Nothing worse than thinking you look like the woman on the left, but really look like the woman on the right.

• No bra - I don't care how perky you are, if you have enough boob for it to jiggle when you walk, you need a bra. This is non-negotiable. If I can wake up and put on my over the shoulder boulder holder, you can do it to. Also, if you are older, don't let your tube sock tits just hang around near your belly button. Give the impression that you are fighting back, at least for the hours that you are in public. Put those dogs on a leash.

You are going to injure someone with those.

There are probably more, but these are the major offenses I have unfortunately witnessed.

Fortunately, the air conditioner was fixed. Immediately following that, the weather turned cool, it started pouring, and we all froze our asses off. Of course.