So there is this saying and it goes something like… “don’t wish for what you don’t want” and it’s totally a saying that I try hard to live by because ice cream is not something I would ever want to die over so I never, ever say things like “I’m dying for some ice cream” because that would be dumb.
Here on this blog, if I’m making fun of anything it’s me. Not you. Or them. Only me, and maybe The Dish occasionally which if your posing for this picture then obviously you have a sense of humor.
Sometimes though when you make fun of your self it back fires on you. Like for instance way back in October I mentioned that I may have a fang boob because who on earth would be growing teeth, much less fangs in a boob.
*Sigh*
I should know better, what with my history with fangs and shit. *
(*not literal shit)
See I had to have a follow up mamogram six months after the Fang Boob incident and when it was over they made me wait to talk to an actual radiologist who informed me that they were following some calcifications, which sounded an awful lot like teeth, in my FANG BOOB apparently. And then I had to wait a whole week with these fangs before they pulled them out.
Like teeth.
In a boob.
A Fang Boob that is.
I might add that going to the dentist and having a second root canal on top of a root canal may have been more fun. Especially since I at least took a xanax for the double root canal procedure.
They were all trying to be nice but honestly in these situations ones dignity is usually compromised severely while they are playing stretch armstrong with you and your fang boob, who by the way, decided not to bite back.
Have I mentioned I’m claustrophobic?
Not elevator claustrophobic but like if you rolled me in a yellow blanket to make me look like a bananna and wouldn’t let me out I would totally panic kind of claustrophobic.
(true story)
So when I was laying face down with my fang boob stretched as far out the door as it could be while being squeezed flat like a chicken cutlet being yelled at to stop moving…I started crying. And then I saw that my mascara leaked all over their nice pillow case and I started crying more and when they decided it was the wrong angle and flipped me over and repositioned me two more times until they finally, two hours, later figured out how they were going to pull my fangs out I was done. But not before they put a titanium marker clip in my now fangless boob leaving me only slightly bruised with a Bionic Boob. Because wasn’t the Bionic Man full of titanium…or is it Wolverine that’s full of that stuff.
But what they found in those fangs was even better.
Nothing.
Nothing in those fangs were bad. Those fangs were tip top shape and who knows why they showed up probably just another genetic mutation on my part.
Days went by and soon Bionic Boob gave way to being FrankenBoob © what with how green and purple it eventually became and some how when they removed the fangs they may have taken out my writing mojo as evidenced by my lack of posting in well over a month.
Possibly going on two months but who’s counting?
Well, me that’s who.
And since its “Chicken With It’s Head Cut Mostly Off Season” I suspect that things will be a little desolate around here.
But I’m still here, poking around the back end.
Of my blog you perv!
