Spring has sprung here. Supposedly. I am not yet sold on that idea, what with being caught in the rain every morning walking Stevie. Three layers of coats on does not equate to Spring. At least all the catalogues that pass through the mail slot here seem to suggest Spring is here. Pictures of obscenely happy, scantily clad blondes are all over the covers. Get fucking spades and buckets for your kids to play with at the beach, they seemed to scream. Looks like a beach in Brazil, with all that sun.
Pages upon pages of pictures of nubile, young women in brightly coloured dresses that seemed to have been shot in High Definition. Fucking neon tops that give you mixed reactions. Maxi dresses that makes me look like a cow wearing a tent. I'm not one for trends, haven't you heard? Mainly because this body right here makes most trends look hilarious, not that most of them already aren't. I will just wear whatever, so long as I'm not leaving the house bare-arsed and dressed for the wrong climate altogether. I will leave zebra and leopard prints to those who don't take themselves too seriously or can't be spotted from the other space.
What I will keep on top of would be bras. Wear cute underwear, people. I seem to like the idea that I can lift my top off in a toilet cubicle and have a short giggle over my choice of underwear that day. Then again, I am quite easily amused. Plus with the stupid amount of tube tops I seem to have accumulated off Primark sale bins, I realized I sorely need a strapless bra. I have no idea why I bought them tops. Exposing my armpits have never been a favourite pastime of mine. Neither is showcasing the uber jiggliness of my flabby upper arms. Body hangups whatever. Maybe I will just wear them while I am out hanging out the laundry in the balcony and do a semi-squat while I am at it just so that I can do the whole 'Ooh look at my sexy shoulders and note how I've done my hair today' parade. Maybe even the 'Have you noticed my barely there dewy make-up that I bought just in time for Spring?' pose. Don't you wish your girlfriend was as domestic yet with a hint of classy, sexpot hot like me? Yes, pay no attention to the lower body for my body is but a temporary vessel for this lifetime. Next life, I'll be a Daffodil.
Shopping for bras have been a nightmare lately. One reason being my breasts have truly given up on me and every time I look at them in the mirror they seem to be looking at me with disappointed and disdain. Fuck off you waste of space with no dedication in life, they seemed to hiss. You diet, you stuff your face, you workout and then you give up on life and now look at the fucking state of us due to your fucking lack of commitment. Yo-yo diet tits. Fuck off now and attempt to cover our sad state with your many bras and the stupid cushions you shove in them. The other reason being Jaz behaving like a total bloke in underwear departments. A bit hot under the collar, antsy and just plain fucking impatient. The fuck he cares I'm choosing a nice bit of negligee. He doesn't care and him behaving like that makes me shop for underwear in a frenzy. Shopping for bras in a frenzy results in me sitting on our bed after a bath in my new underwear close to tears. Ill-fitting fuckers. Aww baby, your tits are still pretty, he cooed, while diving into a packet of Jelly Babies. NO. I HAVE HAMMERHEAD TITS. The fucking cut and design of the bras were stupid. They must have stuck on the cute prints on it to disguise the fact that the design was shit. My tits have fucking panoramic view. They are conical and they face the both corners of the room. A flaw in the fucking design. A fucking flaw.
Now I have to make to make sure that when I am doing the laundry out in the balcony the neighbours don't see my general chest area or they'll say, Look out it's the Oriental Hammerhead Shark. At least Stevie seems to like nicking and darting off across the room with them.
