Well, actually, come to think of it,that's a lie. I do have a booty story as in backsides. I saw this tv show the other night (staring blankly at the screen, spinning wheel lifeless in front of me, too spaced to turn it off and go to bed) about this girl who wanted a nice big round booty "just like J-Lo's". Can I tell you how excited I was when I found out that big butts were back in fashion? Ah! The joy!!! Suddenly I stopped bewailing the fact that I was born into a time when being a stick insect shape was sexy. Why, why, I wailed, was I not born in the time of the Renaissance? Chicks there had cellulite, fat bellies, massive butts and thighs, and were considered the paragons of beauty.
Anyway, my new-found joy at possessing a nice big butt was just trampled all over by this heartless television wench, who stated that big wasn't good enough, oh no, you gotta have round, perky and balanced as well. "It's not enough", she confided in an authoritative tone which brooked no argument "to just have a big white butt. It's got to be just right".
Well, the shock was just enormous. My butt isn't cool after all! I turned in my seat and attempted to glare at the offending big white butt, but as usual it was hiding. Ah well, back to the telly screen, where Miss Big Gorgeous Butt-in-Waiting was having things drawn all over her by her plastic surgeon, including her boyfriend's name on "his spot". Riiiight. So. No implants for this sophisticated lady, oh no. What this surgeon did was liquefy all of her unwanted fat (back, upper tummy etc) and put it into 250 syringes (that is NOT a typo) and proceeded (none too gently I might add) to spend the next couple of hours injecting all her liquefied fat into her butt. Thank god I wasn't eating dinner in front of the tv.
Anyway. Enough disgusting diversions.
BACK TO THE REAL BOOTY STORY!
See what I got in the mail? Whoo hoo!
Sarah of Yarn Dreams sent them to me. What a legend! Actually, the agreement was that she'd send me some shrinky dinks. What I actually got was way cooler, as those little beady thangs are stitch markers, which I am assuming the wonderfully creative Sarah has actually made herself. Unreal. You sling 'em on your needles to remind yourself of your spot. Sort of like bookmarks for knitting. So. After completely bamboozling you with a ridiculous story about liquefied booties, this is actually the "real thing".
Ooh! Another diversion... Went and saw a play called The Real Thing last night. Who was sitting opposite me with a gaggle of lovely friends, but Mary-Helen and Sandra! I had to hop up and down, hang my tongue out and nearly decapitate the man next to me to get their attention, and when I finally did I think they nearly ran away in embarrassment. Hehe. Anyway, the play itself was all right, and the acting (especially Hugo Weaving) was great, once I got over the fact that I was totally aggravated by the put-on accents. Ergh. Hugo Weaving had the most amazingly expressive face, wonderful to watch.
Anyway, since I obviously have the concentration of a ferret on red cordial today, another booty photo, this time something that I've bought myself. Got a massive flyer to ply my bulky handspun on for $30 at Virginia Farm. Yay! I totally embarrassed myself by pointing out that there was something wrong with it, but it actually turned out to be a very clever part of the design. Doh! But I bought it anyway. I put it next to a regular sized flyer so you can see the difference between it and the new fat one.
So how about that. Bigger apparently is better. So there. I'm off to hit the temping agencies today and see if I can rustle up some money for HECS next year. Oh joy! I'm employed again! *dashes off in a cloud of sarcasm*
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