I was going to make a list of all the things that are just so incredibly wrong with this vintage ad, but rather than stay up until midnight doing that, I decided to fix it up instead.
In her next speech bubble our lady of the initial-shouting-words makes everything right by telling us this.
Don’t come to the wrong conclusion! Read on to discover the three things thousands of skinny girls have learned!
Ironized yeast tastes pretty disgusting.
People who catch a glimpse of you and immediately run away have far more serious problems than you do.
No matter how much weird shit we choose to consume in the interests of altering our physical appearance, it’s almost certainly guaranteed that in just a few weeks, these three guys will still be assholes.
Daily Prompt:Write an entire post without using any three-letter words.
That should read – write an entire post using absolutely no three-letter words. There, that’s better. So…here goes nothing.
Things Bogus Wonder Woman (my latest alias) is wondering about today which will be more or less forgotten by tomorrow:
1. That fellow hitch hiking across Canada wearing Stanfield’s underwear. In November no less. Is he crazy? Raising testicular cancer awareness in this manner sounds seriously chilly. I wonder where he is today.
2. I wonder where half of November went when I wasn’t paying attention.
3. This afterclap word supposedly means an unexpected subsequent event, like a further clap of thunder. However, I think it could also refer to a point in time following venereal disease recovery. Wondering if this definition shouldn’t be added to dictionaries everywhere. Insufficiently motivated to further pursue.
4. Nursery rhymes have become seriously outdated, which means children find them hard to understand. I wonder if this rewrite of Little Miss Muffet would ever catch on.
Little Miss Blogfair sitting on desk chair
Munching on chocolate eclairs,
Following comments, editing content,
Sobbing when nobody cares.
No? Well alrighty then, moving right along….
5. I wonder what’s being served this evening at dinner time? Should I perhaps be looking into this question more deeply? Instead of wasting time avoiding three-letter words? Word avoidance of a particular length turned into a harder feat than originally anticipated. Although avoiding every letter E would be much worse.
What section of the news do you read first? What sections could you care less about?
The section of the newspaper that I read first (because it’s usually in big bold type and hard to ignore) is the front page headline.
Tsk tsk, plinky. Asking me what I could care less about is actually asking me what I do care about, because if I could care less it means that I already care to some extent. If what you really wanted to know is what I COULDN’T care less about, no matter how hard I tried, it would be pretty much the whole rest of the paper.
Except maybe for the comic strips, but often they’re so buried in such strange and hard to find places that it’s hardly worth the effort. And sometimes I pick up the sports section to see how they’ve re-worded the fact that the Oilers are still pathetic losers. Also I hate all the advertising and all the pictures of houses and cars for sale. Okay, let’s face it. I don’t even remember what else is in there, it’s been so long since I read one.
Normally I don’t see the paper at all, because W gets to it first and reads it from beginning to end and mixes up all the sections and throws them into the ‘paper basket’ in a huge unholy mess. I never feel the urge to sort that out. If he’s away I put a vacation stop on receiving the news. If I get to the paper first I take out the fifty pounds of glossy flyers and throw them into the paper recycle bag. And then throw the remaining bits of the paper (all sections neatly in order!) on his footrest so he can read them from beginning to end and sort them into a huge unholy mess. Tomorrow we will repeat this whole process in the same order, or some variation of it.
So, are you sorry you asked me yet? I could go on for a bit about the black newsprint finger marks on the inside of our front door, or how sometimes the paper comes in a skinny orange plastic bag if the weather is dismal. Or how it’s very useful for starting fires and lining the compost bin.
But perhaps you COULDN’T care less about that. So I won’t.
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