So, my work is, like, 98 per cent women. Really girly girls. Super girlish girly mcgirlytons who like handbags and shoes and pink drinks and manicures.
There is, in fact, a manicurist in the office on Fridays.
They know the names of nailpolish colors. (Favorite combo -- Essie -- coat of ballet slippers followed by a coat of madamoiselle.)
Anyhow, lately there has been a lot of talk about boobs.
My boobs.
Apparently, at the last drunken company outing, the merits of various boobs were discussed and, in my absence, mine were declared big winners. Some descriptors include:
Fabulous
Like kittens
Giant
Thanks, ladies.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
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1 comment:
Who cares what women say about boobs? Only men know good from bad.
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