Now I Want a Sleeping Bag

I have a sleeping bag.  But I never thought of using it as a giant vagina.

Now?

Now it’s all I can do to not walk up to attractive cops on street corners and say “My, you look cold.  Might you like to slip into my sleeping bag?” and then wink.

We were having a discussion about women who stop trying after they’re married.  And I pointed out that the advantage to me is that I stopped trying decades ago, so there are no surprises.  I already burp and fart in public and don’t bother to wear make-up unless I think there’s the off chance I might get laid.  Shoot, if I have my overalls on, i can’t even be bothered to put on a bra on the weekends, because I find them oppressive and sometimes they give me a boob cramp and any piece of clothing that causes you to have a boob cramp is so obviously evil.

Which brings us to boob cramps, speaking of women’s health.  Sometimes, when I bend forward, I get a cramp right under my boob where the underwire rests.  I’m worried that the underwire on my bras is deforming the muscle there or something.

In a perfect world, I would do away with bras all together and women would either have boob handlers who would hold them up for them or we would develop boob unicycles.

About these ads

8 thoughts on “Now I Want a Sleeping Bag

  1. Did I ever tell you about the time I thought I got shot? I was standing in front of a big picture window, talking to a co-worker and there was this loud “pop” and she screamed and I realized I could feel this sharp pain right under my boob and I was like, “Oh my god, I’ve been shot.”

    So, I reached up under my shirt, to see how bad it was, and realized that I wasn’t bleeding, but that, yes, my underwire had snapped so loud we both thought it was gunfire.

  2. I so need a boob handler right now. I’m recovering from shingles, which is all cleared up except for the lingering neuralgia, which gives me several rounds a day of sudden cramps of the right boob. And the best cure for this is to grasp said boob firmly until the cramp passes. And I can’t yet wear a bra. So I need someone to follow me around holding my boobs.

  3. I haven’t had a underwire snap, but a few weeks ago I was wearing a v-neck sweater and I caught sight of myself in a mirror and noticed that the wire had poked out and sort of wiggled its way up between my boobs so that a good 2 inches of the actual wire was showing. I hate to think how long that had been poking out and if anybody had noticed it…

  4. I can just imagine how it’s going to go when your boss calls you into the office to accuse you of industrial espionage and you have to explain that, no, you weren’t wearing a wire, just a defective bra.

  5. I had a wire break once. There was no noise and no stabbing, but for the rest of the day I was drooping on one side.

Comments are closed.