WISH this was a car post.
I’m exhausted from an incredible weekend, but I feel the need to do a certain public service announcement.
(Mom, this post isn’t one you are going to want to read…trust me. I know.)
There are two things this weekend that threatened to damper my spirits.
One is a certain belt.
The one that was being worn by this guy.
(Don’t get me started on my opinion on wearing red to the Panthers game… seriously you got fourth row seats & you can’t show some pride?)
I say wear, but honestly it wasn’t functional. It was more of a decoration. Guessing it wasn’t anything new. Seemed to have given up on its duties long ago….. which lead to a VERY unwanted view….more times than I would like to have had. Course it was right in front of us & just HAD to keep getting up for this or that. It was in the low 50s, he HAD to have felt the draft. With the laughs I got trying to shield my eyes every time the moon rose, he HAD to know what was going on. Maybe he was trying to air out the bacne. 😦
I had decided that I was going to say something to his wife when he left in the 2nd quarter, but at an exciting moment the crowd stood up & we were treated to the site of her granny panties. A noted improvement, since we still aren’t entirely confident that Mr Red was even aware that anything goes in between his rump & his worn out jeans. So I kept my opinion of their choice in “fashion” to myself & thought “poor kid having to be with these two in public”.
So BELTS. They may come in sparkles, leather, metal chains, all sorts of ways to express yourself, but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE remember what they are there for. Help everyone around you and let wear the ones that work. Don’t be sagging, especially when there are strangers trying to enjoy life stuck less than two feet behind you.
And ladies…….. It may be NO SHAVE NOVEMBER, but still you need to maintain the mane of your domain.
Sure you have the choice & right to keep the length, shape & colors of your choice but I believe I also have the right to use a public toilet without having to be grossed out with a stray you left behind.
SERIOUSLY EVERY STALL THIS WEEKEND. The restaurants, the stadium, every place I had to “go”.
Honestly I don’t get the appeal of the full bush. I do feel if I deal with mine, I should never have to deal with yours.
There are only a couple of choices when faced with the pube on the seat.
- turn & run as fast as you can – hoping there is another stall, freshly cleaned. The single stall establishments don’t leave us this option.
- blow towards it & hope that it falls into the bowl & doesn’t do the unimaginable and fly up towards your body.
- pull a billion squares of the tissue & push it into the toilet.
- hover & pray that your leg muscles got the workout they need to keep you safely at a distance far enough away from the offending object long enough to find relief.
Frankly I would rather vomit.
So thank you nasty “ladies”. You manage to turn around and flush, but don’t even see that you have left a bit of you behind, ready for someone else’s behind. And we dare complain about guys leaving a seat up? Get real. This is beyond gross.
So SHAVE, WAX, ZAP, PLUCK… I don’t care. Just never let me see it.