I was doing a bit of online
shopping looking lately and stumbled across this advertisement for some sort of torture-chamber undergarment, because clearly this lady is fat and needs this six-hooked, elastic-ed contraption to mash her body into a figure suitable to walk around in public.
Aside from that, does anything else jump out at you from this picture, Reader?
Or is it just me?
There’s a good chance it’s just me.
Because that image made me want to dress up like Jasmine from Disney’s Aladdin movie as soon as I saw that Camel. And I also noticed her very apparent “magic carpet.” Aladdin, Jasmine and several friends could ride on that thing.
I mean, as far as advertising techniques go, this one may be considered a winner because it definitely caught my attention. I even saved it to share with you. You’re welcome.
However, I couldn’t tell you what the product actually is, nor did I buy one, because I do not need to call that sort of attention to my kuntz area, as it gets pah-lenty of attention as it is.
And speaking of my kuntz, would you even believe it if I told you I actually got the job with the company I shouted out “MIKEKUNTZ!!'” to in my phone interview???
Hard to believe it, Reader, but YEP, it’s the troof. I’m going to be back in the workforce soon!! I start in mid-July as a Merchandising Manager for a young e-Commerce biz. I’m going to be in on the groundish floor, and will reap many rewards for my contributions with this company once I prove my awesomeness, which should take about five days. Because of said awesomeness. I’ve already been working – unpaid – on my strategies and contributions that will help drive and grow the business. I’m trying to knock some of the rust off of the hamster wheels that churn my brain before I actually start.
I’m super-excited about the work, less super-excited about trying to correct my awful sleep pattern. Because it is a doozy. I now go to sleep sometime between three and six in the morning, and get up, oh, in the early afternoon.
They shouldn’t make Forensic Files a nightly marathon if they wanted me to go to bed earlier. I’ve been really hooked on watching hours and hours of those shows. And then it scares me and I have to get up and walk through the house and check that no one is trying to break in to Chez Bang Bang and diddle with my kuntz while they think I’m asleep, because they would be in for a surprise, because I’m AWAKE at 2 a.m., Badguys, so stay the eff away. I’m on high-alert. And have been practicing kung-foo. Not really, but I think about doing karate chops to people, so I’m counting it.
So yeah, not exactly restful sleep after I do finally turn off the hours upon hours of murdering shows. Last night I even managed to tolerate a half hour of Nancy Grace, because the story was compelling, but Nancy herself is so annoying and just makes shit up rather than reporting on any facts and says the same stuff over and over again, which annoys the piss out of me so I turned her off mid-way through and now I need to Google and find out more details about the murdering of a doctor-lady in Florida. You’ve created more work for me, Nancy Grace. Thanks for nothing.
Let’s recap here, Reader, because this has been all over the place. Our Top 5 take-aways are:
1/ No one needs underwear that details out their camel toes. Unless you DO need those underwear, Reader, and then I will try to find out the brand for you, because I’m a giver.
2/ I will become a productive member of society once again mid-July, abandoning my current “job” of spray painting every empty bottle in the house to turn it into a Pinterest project.
3/ Sometimes talking about your kuntz in an interview can land you a job. And not just in prostitution.
4/ Don’t break into my house, BadGuy. You’ll be the one getting an unpleasant surprise, right between the shoulder blades.
5/ Nancy Grace creates more problems than she solves.