Last night Itchy and I were talking about something and I said FTW and he was like, do you know what that means?
Of course I do! It means For The Win, duh and he was like, no mom, it means that other word that starts with F … the World.
FUCK THE WORLD? Oh shit. I write FTW all the time! And how does he know what that means?!
I’m not one to go down without at least a healthy debate so I looked it up on Urban Dictionary and what ho?
You think you are smarter than me kiddo? No you aren’t. Not yet.
I know more about pop culture than my kid.
I went over to MPT’s place for a much needed coffee and scream session and I was looking fine, I’m not going to lie. She was in her usual uniform of sensible underwear, nightshirt and ratty robe, aka the harbinger of the marital bed death.
But I don’t judge because I wear some stupid shit to bed, the only difference between her and me (aside from everything) is that I woke up at 4:30 this morning because Blue is an asshole and then decided that I might as well go the gym, take a shower and put on some make-up because it’s the new me.
On my way over I listened to 2 Dope Queens latest podcast and this guy had me almost falling over.
Listen here for the entire episode. I did an audio grab because I’m nice and didn’t want you to have to do the skip through thing. You’re welcome.
It was an oddly prescient thing to listen to because once I got to her place, already completely agro on my second cup of coffee, we launched into the deep end.
Body image issues.
She stalked my weekend with Nadia on IG and was like, “Looks like you had a fun weekend and may I add that your ass looked great in those panties,” because I posted a picture of me wearing Boobzilla’s lacy underwear. Sure, it was a basic move but what do I have to lose?
Then she said that she put on some sexy panties and has finally broken through her body image issue around her so-called huge ass by realizing that her ass actually looks good in sexy underwear.
She’s super convinced she has a disgusting ass and I said no, it is not disgusting. It’s shapely and sexy and totally normal looking and to prove my point I felt the need to bring up a visual.
I Googled an image with shaking hands …
To quote Sideboob, I was “legit” scared of what the internet would serve up. For once it did not disgust me with its depravity and I found what I was looking for.
IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT YOUR ASS TO LOOK LIKE? IS IT?!
Of course not. A flat ass is fine on a cartoon picture of a kid and it would look like garbage on her. Love that ass.
She knows what my body image hangup is (because I won’t shut up about it around her) so she’s like, then get it fixed or get over it which I felt like was an unfair thing to say because buying some sexy panties is a world apart from a belly button revision surgery.
Not that she thinks I need it but because I’m obsessed with my stupid belly button.
So I was like, “Maybe I should go lesbo. I have a friend who went lesbo for a while and she said it was the best thing that ever happened to her body image because before she was all critical about her big boobs and hips and ass but then after she got to experience it, she realized how completely awesome women are because they are soft.”
But MPT was like, “I couldn’t do that, I’m just not lesbian.”
Me: Yeah, me neither.
MPT: I would be happy to be half lesbian.
Me: Is there such thing as being half lesbo? Like, the top half?
MPT: That’s called being drunk at a party.
Me: What about a transgender woman who hasn’t had the bottom surgery? I think that would be dope.
MPT: Naw dude, you don’t want to go there.
Me: Why?? It would be perfect! Boobies but no vagina!
MPT: Because you would fall in love with a man who is a woman who is into men and probably wouldn’t want you to pay attention to her dick and get your heart broken.
Me: Yeah, you’re probably right.
I would especially get my heart broken because as I’m sure Sideboob and Nadia and Stitch and EVERYONE IN THE WORLD knows, my most coveted dream lover just doesn’t like me like that …
But I console myself with the knowledge that he isn’t into any women, even the finest, most beautiful and talented and smart of women, so I’m guessing that my strange belly button wasn’t the deal breaker.
MPT and I made a date to go panty shopping on Friday and I left feeling a little bit lighter. Guess who didn’t want to walk?
I’m gonna put some sweats on now.