Wednesday, July 21, 2010

If People Came In Commercial Packages, We'd All Be Hung or Wear 40DDDs


Please excuse me while I discuss a few matters with the products in my medicine cabinet.

Really, Acid Reflux Medication?  Do you think I'm not going to buy you to just because you're in a small see-through container and I can see that I'm only getting 28 pills?  I can read, you know.  Making the opaque container twice as big as it needs to be isn't fooling me.  I know I'm being taken.  But if it's a choice between being taken or regretting my morning cup of coffee, well hell.  That's easy.  Let's be honest with each other, shall we?  You're making a big profit off my suffering and I'm willing to pay.  The lies diminish us both.

And how about you "medicated powder?"  I held your golden body up to the light in the bathroom and saw that right out of the Target bag, you're only halfway full.  And the sticker still discreetly covers your holes so I know it's not likely that someone has been unscrewing the cap and stealing from you.  Powder is messy,  That's not really an asset when you're shoplifting, is it?

But again I ask, do you really think I would forgo you if I knew the truth?  Would I prefer that my undercarriage (that's that place under my boobs, y'all) becomes a swamp while I work out?  Of course not.  I'm going to buy you and enjoy the refreshing zing! when I apply you because, goodness knows, there are few things worse than an under-the-boob rash.  It's impossible to scratch in public without receiving the small mouth from some eagle-eyed prude or a invitation from some horny goombah.

"Let me take care of that, how 'bout it!"

At least if something in my panties itches, I can deal with it and claim I'm merely "adjusting myself."  Works for guys, right?

But reach for your own boob and you're disrupting traffic.

The fact is that we have a commercial relationship.  I have a need.  You fill that need.  You charge what you think is a reasonable fee and I pay it.  If it gets too out of hand, then I go in search of the generics which means I'll be paying significantly less only to find the opaque container a quarter full instead of half full.

I don't want to love you, but I do need you.  Okay?

The best thing about you is that you either prevent things or make them go away. Put another way - you're the bouncer to the increasingly seedy nightclub that is my body.  Listen, at this stage of the game, I've got enough metaphorical guys wearing too much cologne and too much gold jewelry trying to invade this space.  I know that it won't be long before I'm glad even for those guys because the new crop of losers is likely to be much, much worse.  I'll probably look back fondly on a little boob sweat and acid reflux when the real horrors of aging hit me.  But until then, can we at least honor our relationship with a little honesty?

Thank you for indulging me today.  You know how these little things can build up over time.  So, what is it that you'd like to get off your chest?

19 comments:

  1. That's why I only buy the chips in the can. I hate paying for air. There's nothing more depressing than opening up the single serving sized bag of Lays and hearing the air woosh out and getting a whole 8 chips for the $1.29 you forked over.

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  2. "Package sold by weight, not by volume...some settling may occur in shipping..."

    I hear you - the pill box thing is particularly annoying because it's all so overpackaged. Like, WHY do we have to get our 12 Claritin pills in little blister packs, to be removed one at a time, inside a big cardboard box? You're right, it makes it look as if you're getting something for your outrageous amount of money. If they put twelve little pills in a bottle it would be the size of a tiny bottle of contact lens rewetting drops. And who would be $24.99 or whatever it is, for that?

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  3. Oops, who would "pay," not "be."

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  4. love it...and soooo very true! At least when I get my blood pressure pills from the pharmacy they fill up the big ole bottle and I feel like I'm getting something for my money!

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  5. BUWAHAHAHAHA! LOVE the metaphor about the bouncer... usually an unsavory lot, but better than what gets in without them, eh?

    Totally agree on the packaging scam... drives me NUTS!

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  6. These are not their worst wiles. Madison Avenue is bent on convincing us that we are unfit for human association as is. They tell me I need Head and Shoulders, lest I have a flake, Visene for red eyes, several products for garbage mouth, Cheer for ring around the collar, Sure so I can raise my hand, Jenny Craig for what sticks out, Viagra for what doesn't, etc., etc., etc.

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  7. I would DIE without my Acid Reflux Medication!

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  8. I'm just so glad I'm not the only one who sweats under my boobs.

    Thanks for the sweet feeling of solidarity -- and as always, the laughs. :)

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  9. Hahahahaha - "my undercarriage" - so funny! I think you should just go for the readjust and stop traffic. What of it?

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  10. I'm still stuck on boob sweat. I hasn't got any to speak of and I'm trying to remember what it was like to be a nursing mother filling up something more than a nearly starving 34A padded push up from victoria's secret.

    nah, it's gone. memory way too fleeting in the grand scheme of my 46 years.

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  11. If I keep eating the cookies I bought for the KIDS then I will be wearing a 40DDD cup! I'm not sure it shows that on the box either.

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  12. boob sweat, ha ha, like other less well endowed chicks I can only imagine (hey, at least there's SOMETHING positive about small boobs :))

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  13. LOL! Lisa, you always make me laugh. :) And you're also spot-on...but you already knew that, I'm sure. :)

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  14. I used to think 40DDD's were hats for ladies who liked to walk together at whispering distance.

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  15. As a non-40DDD you are speaking a foreign language to me. Rashes and powders and refreshing zing? I had no idea. Thanks for educating this 36C or D( depending on the brand).

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  16. I have just adopted the word undercarriage thank you very much. I cannot comprehend how all these commenters have not experienced undercarriage sweating. oh, Lisa, you make me laugh and I love it so.

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  17. Undercarriage sweat. Yes. I know of it. It's a ruiner of cotton bras, that boob sweat. I hate it.

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