I “met” Gini about six years ago when we made friends on a twins parenting board. I loved her sense of humor from the very beginning and we’ve been friends ever since. She has FOUR boys (so one step crazier than me) but much more funny (as you’ll soon see). I can’t thank her enough for bringing her funny here to my blog!
You know how sometimes you’re being all lazy, lolling about the house and browsing Facebook when you want to comment on something and are all like, “oh shit, I totally promised them I’d write a guest post and went and forgot?” And then you’re all like, “damn I totally commented so now they know I’m not actually laid up in bed dying again.”
Yeah. That’s where this post is coming from. An Oh Shit Moment.
And you know, I should probably be happy that I’m having an Oh Shit Moment over that. Because, it could be worse. I could totally be like that woman at the gym the other day who was stankin’ up the joint with a sweaty vajayjay and I was standing there all trying to breathe in through my mouth instead of my nose (after I checked to make sure it wasn’t MY vajayjay causing all the problems, which it wasn’t, for the record). Thankfully that’s pretty easy because when you’re fat like me and trying to work out, it’s more like you’re gasping for air anyway instead of that graceful intake of oxygen that those silly trainers tell you to do.
They’re so dumb. Breathing. Seriously. What’s that all about anyway?
Let’s talk about something more important. I’m not sure what exactly yet. Mostly because I keep going back and forth between writing this and pinning shit on Pinterest (ever been…want an invite?).
Hang on. I gotta go yell at my kids.
And check my email.
Oh look. A candy cane coffee cake recipe.
Shit. Okay. Yeah. Writing. Now. Where was I?
Right. Vagina stank.
Look. I get it. You’re working out at the gym. I mean, you’re working hard now. Sweatin’ all up in here and trying to lose a few pounds so you can finally fit into your swimsuit just as summer is ending (no? just me then?). You’re on the bike. You’re on the elliptical. You’re throwing that giant ball around and running on the treadmill and lifting weights (good God, how are you even still alive?). And, you know, it’s cool. We all get a little funky after working so hard. Personally, my boob sweat is about to make me crazy. I’m all trying to smear my husband’s deodorant underneath and I’m still smelling like a sewer as soon as I take off my shirt.
These things are understandable. We’ve all been there. That not-so-fresh feeling has plagued us all at one time or another. Well, maybe not me. Mine’s as fresh as a daisy all the time. But, if I can smell your nether regions, something ain’t right there. And, it might be time to seek medical advice. You gotta keep that bitch fresh, yo. It’s not like they don’t make stuff to handle that.
You’re probably wondering why I’m spending so much time talking about this. But, in my defense, it was so intense and I was on the elliptical for so long that I had no time to think about anything else (but how much I loathe America’s Got Talent…which America does not, I assure you) until she got off.
Uh, no pun intended.
You’d think she might have had an Oh Shit Moment right then and there and apologized to all of us. But, she just got right off, bent over to pick up her jacket (hey lady, did ya notice it’s summer in Texas and 105 degrees?) right in front of me so I could get one last whiff, and quietly made her way out. Not even so much as a blush. Honestly. Have the good sense to be embarrassed for crying out loud. At least then I would have been all like, “it’s cool, solidarity….fight the man…and all that…er, sister.”
In (blessed) conclusion and to sum up, I have the following rules for you.
1. Don’t forget to write your guest posts immediately after promising to do one.
2. Don’t lie and pretend you’re dying to get out of things. Unless it’s babysitting a friend’s bratty kids.
3. Don’t learn how to breathe through your nose while working out.
4. Don’t join Pinterest and take drugs that force you to focus. Oh look, shiny!
5. Take care of all your stink. Boob. Vajayjay. Armpit. Whatever.
6. Apologize when you’re offending others.
7. Never go to the gym. Ever.
8. And eat lots of pie and drink a lot.
Gini is a little bit of politics, a little bit of humor, a ton of bad grammar and a whole lot of angst and frustration mixed with a deep desire to emotionally eat in a crisis. You can find her blogging at The Big Fat Gini Blog and chatting it up on Facebook (go like her, you won’t regret it).
PS: Gini, I’ll have you know that I LOVE America’s Got Talent.