Stamped: April 19th, 2007 | Toggle Similar
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Seriously world, we have got to come up with a way to tactfully inform our fellow humans of their public, yet oblivious, embarrassment. For example, I could, and should, tell the assistant Girl Scout leader of our local troop that the bushel of hair sprouting in every which direction on her third layer of chin is damn disgusting. I can barely have a conversation with the woman without upchucking a little bile into my mouth.

Likewise, someone could have, and should have, informed me of the fact that I looked as if I'd been bludgeoned with a sharp object across the front of my scalp this morning while at the gym. As I was peddling my way to an ass of less flab (god willing) on the elipitical apparently I was sweating little streams of vampire red Manic Panic down the sides of my face. And not one jerk told me. I only realized it when I stopped at the store on my way home and did a face check in the mirror.
And here I'd thought that the hottie on the machine next to me was staring at my fine physique. Uh,not likely. To say that it was embarrassing is an understatement. And you know what's really fucked up? The girl on the other side of me could have said something to me when she stepped up to her machine. In some la-la fantasy land it would be awesome if there was some sort of girl code in place wherein we all have each others back, strangers or not. But no. Instead, we have a tendency to be vindicative little bitches and get pleasure off of other womens awkward misfortunes because in our skewed little heads that means we're all that much better. Sad, but true. Then again, maybe I've just had really bitchy friends.

I'm letting you know now that if you ever see me out and about with chin hair, leaky hair dye, broccoli in my teeth or a whitehead on the tip of my nose it's okay to come up and tell me. Please. I promise I won't punch you.

Now if I can only manage to tell Mrs. Chin Bushel of her little problem. My guess is she already knows and simply doesn't give a shit. White trash are funny like that. Still, I'm thinking of slipping a pack of Bic razors in her handbag at the next meeting. It may be slightly lacking in tact but I'm betting that the type of woman who is unconcerned about looking like sasquatch's long lost cousin doesn't really give a rats ass about tact.

Last 5 posts by JB

• Happy Anniversary - June 21st, 2007
• decision 2007: dildo fantasies vs. honesty - June 14th, 2007
• Intermission - June 7th, 2007
• Yoni, up close and personal - May 31st, 2007
• My friend Karma - May 24th, 2007