The Pool Incident

Okay, so I'm getting ready to go to the fitness place for a swim. I put on my suit and then throw some shorts and a t-shirt over it, slip on the flip flops, grab my gym bag full of soap, shampoo, stuff like that, and away I go.

So I get in and I'm swimming away, when in comes this guy whom I suspect isn't "all there." He's pissing me off and blocking my laps, so I check the clock, realize I was about 10 minutes from getting out anyway, and decide to leave early. Now comes The Ladder Maneuver. Girls, you'll know what I'm talking about here: that moment when you're climbing out hoping to god the guy right there isn't looking up at your ass... well I climb onto the first step, and Said Man behind me begins making some weird grunting sound as my ass is in his face. I climb out of there as fast as humanly possible, grab my towel, and fly into the locker room, dude's bizarre noises echoing behind me.

But wait, there's more.

So I hang my bag in the changing room, close the curtain, and take a nice hot shower. As I'm towelling off, I realize that I forgot to pack my f'ing bra and panties. Now. What to do? "Of course I had to wear my thinnest fucking shorts," I mumble. So I pull the shorts on and slip my shirt over my head, hoping that, if I move nice and slowly, no inappropriate breast bouncing will go on as I make my way out of the place and into my car. I pull the shirt down as far as I can over my ass, paranoid that someone will actually go through the "where's her panty-line" thought process (you know, because that's so fucking likely, and grab my suit and towel. I go through the usual motions of wrapping the suit in the towel and putting the whole thing in a plastic bag, only to then realize that I had pressed the saturated towel against my t-shirt and left a giant wet circle, right over my boob. There goes being inconspicuous, because you can guess what happened next. What happens when a wet shirt is over a braless breast? Yep. So now I had to get my ass to my car without drawing attention to the dark, wet circle on my shirt, and the determined, spiteful protrusion under it, as I tip-toed (to avoid movement) my way to the front desk to return my key. Now note that I'm not a prude, but still, walzing around with the headlights on at a busy coed facility is not my cup of tea.

Of course it has to be cold and windy outside, and I have wet hair, so obviously I kept getting shivers, which made (ahem) everything more obvious.

This is probably one of those things that, to the person involved it seems like a big deal, but nobody else knows even notices.

I mean... right?

Ankle spanker swinging in the wind

Some bitches were at the fitness place this morning. Damn hoes anyway.

Here's the deal. You can be stupid, or you can be a bitch, but you can't be both. If you're stupid and nice, people are friendly and they'll help you figure shit out.

But if you're stupid AND a fucktard bitch, then you need to CLEAR MY FUCKING PATH. Post-motherfucking-haste.

I hate it when I go out of my way to be nice to someone, and they turn around and act like a fucking asslick to me. It happens more often than I can stand (see my Starbucks experience in a previous post).

LISTEN TO ME PEOPLE. IF I AM NICE TO YOU, AND IN RETURN YOU ARE A SKEEVWART SLUTBITCH IN RETURN, do NOT expect me to EVER be nice to your nasty ass again.

Unlock the mysterious secrets of a goddamn doorknob by your dumbfuck self.

*ahem*

I feel much better now. To everyone who is NOT a complete assmunch fuckbag, sorry that you had to be exposed to my wrath.

Peace and light, rainbows and puppies,
Kara

See Emily Play

Don't you hate it when you burn your mouth? Especially your tongue, because then you have that weird texture thing going on. I was drinking coffee this morning and scalded my poor tongue.

Anyway, I went to the gym this morning and they were closed for the day. They had a hand-written sign on the door. It was like... some twilight zone shit. If I had gone in, there would have probably been green-skinned scientologists hovering around katie holmes waiting to suck the life from her baby or something.

I have no idea what's going on. They've never done that before in the time I've been going.

Makes one wonder. Perhaps someone took a giant shit in the middle of the lobby.

P.S. - one ZILLION dollars (or an equal or lesser prize) to the person that can tell me what my post title is from, without googling it! Not that I'd know if you had, but still.

Collage 2

Changed

Erotic

Romantic

Gasp

Velvety

Friggin' April.

Tom DeLay is quitting. I can't tell you how *cough* devastated I am *cough* to see him go *cough.*

Hey, to readers from Tennessee... I hope your families are all safe and okay after the storms.