Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Scratches Damage Your Hard Wood Floors

I am full. Me tummah is fool of too much goudaness. I have no idea what happened today. I et a babeh. Like toof of em. At least it feels that way.

Earlier, I couldn't get full no matter how many apples I ate and then I shat them all out, so I was empty again. Apparently, apples and coffee are a hands free enema.

What's going on? Feeding the hangry. It's not even that time of the month.

Add in rainy and very muggy weather and I'm dead sexay. I walked next to two old sweatballs in the historic district on my lunch. Then it was a Zumba class with Beyonce. At least she moved as fast and as rhythmic as she does. I was jealous. It was not pretty but I kept moving. I tried to do that Rachel Dolezal identify with thingy and it didn't work. I was not BeyoncĂ© even though I identified with the fact I was a great dancer.
My favorite thing of the day was I wore some nice somewhat sexy undies under my business clothes today because they make my ass pretty. This is all fine and well except I didn't pack any workout skivvies. What do you get when you put lace in a workout? You get a chafed crease. That sucks dragon balls. You hobble a little bit trying to comfort yourself while yanking it out of your crotch. People think you got a problem with your vagina, but alls it is is the fact that lace is the enemy and should be banned from clothing products which are made for your bottom privates. Seriously. Do you ever see men wearing lace in their creases of their BVDs? Boxers? Uh no. Why? Because it chafes the balls. Just because a woman's vagina can take a pounding, doesn't mean you have to brutalize it with bedazzled underwear. There are other things you can stick in there.

To ease my tummay issue, I thought I would clean the house when I got home and exercise the dogs but that just made me sick and my vagina more sore. I wonder if it would be weird to put a sack of peas in my crotch. Surely you could still use them. They are guarded by plastic.

So sits the laundry. I need to vacuum. I don't want to. My crotch hurts. Can I whine enough? I feel I could file assault charges on the lace industry.

I want to go to sleep because my bellah is too full.

Lesson learned. No need for me to be a glutton. It's really miserable. And so is the humidity. I don't even do my hair anymore. Now I understand why the Mid-West has hair issues and lazy fashion and trend misstatements.

Egads. It's a good thing I have a Brazilian or otherwise I would have a growler and all that up in there poking through your clothes singing soprano is not attractive. God bless hard wood floors.

Wait. A growler would have protected my vagina from chafing lace.


It's not going to happen. I'm going to change me undies.

Right now, I'm pretty sure my vagina had sex with Chuck Norris.


  1. You know Fargo, America can always count on you for a vagina status update. I'm pretty sure your readers know more about your hoo hah than they do Obama administration attempt to screw us. I'm not entirely sure that's a bad thing either.

  2. Momma Fargo:
    ROFLMAO...and some interesting TMI to boot.
    (always good to "air things out"...heh)

    The BEST part of this post is that I read it back ALOUD in my best Scottish accent...LOL.
    Now that was the topper...HA!

    Undies? What undies?
    (gone commando?)

    Nah, we're better tha that...right?

    Great post, Kiddo.

    Roll safe (and unchafed) down there, dear.

  3. First of all, work out commando and you won't have to worry about chaffing. Second, I'd be more than happy to kiss you boo boo cooter well for you.