Monday, 21 May 2012

Beach fashion

Mrsgunka has many friends with a fine sense of humour and receives countless hilarious e-mails. I'm glad our Mrsgunka is quick to click the forward button so I can share them with you! Thank you, MrsG.

When I was young, in the 1950's, 60's & 70's, the bathing suit for the mature figure was boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as engineered. They were built to hold back and uplift, and they did a good job. 


Today's stretch fabrics are designed for the prepubescent girl with a figure carved from a potato chip.

The mature woman has a choice, she can either go up front to the maternity department and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming away looking like a hippopotamus that escaped from Disney's Fantasia, or she can wander around every run-of-the-mill department store trying to make a sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of fluorescent rubber bands.


What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my sensible choice and entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room. The first thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material. The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot, which gives the added bonus that if you manage to actually lever yourself into one, you would be protected from shark attacks. Any shark taking a swipe at your passing midriff would immediately suffer whiplash.

I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the shoulder strap in place I gasped in horror, my boobs had disappeared!

Eventually, I found one boob cowering under my left armpit. It took a while to find the other. At last I located it flattened beside my seventh rib.

The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The mature woman is now meant to wear her boobs spread across her chest like a speed bump. I realigned my speed bump and lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment.

The bathing suit fit all right, but unfortunately it only fitted those bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me oozed out rebelliously from top, bottom and sides. I looked like a lump of Playdoh wearing undersized cling wrap.

As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come from, the prepubescent sales girl popped her head through the curtain, "Oh, there you are," she said, admiring the bathing suit.

I replied that I wasn't so sure and asked what else she had to show me. I tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of masking tape, and a floral two-piece that gave the appearance of an oversized napkin in a serving ring.

I struggled into a pair of leopard-skin bathers with ragged frills and came out looking like Tarzan's Jane, pregnant with triplets and having a rough day.

I tried on a black number with a midriff fringe and looked like a jellyfish in mourning.


I tried on a bright pink pair with such a high cut leg I thought I would have to wax my eyebrows to wear them.


Finally, I found a suit that fit, it was a two-piece affair with a shorts-style bottom and a loose blouse-type top. It was cheap, comfortable, and bulge-friendly, so I bought it. My ridiculous search had a successful outcome, I figured.

When I got it home, I found a label that read, "Material might become transparent in water."

So, if you happen to be on the beach or near any other body of water this year and I'm there too, I'll be the one in cut-off jeans and a T-shirt!

Sunday, 20 May 2012

A case of what???

Here's a short and sweet, courtesy of View_From_Here:


Mother Superior called all the nuns together and said to them, 'I must tell you all something. We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent.'

'Thank God,' said an elderly nun at the back. 'I'm so tired of chardonnay.'


Thank you, View.

Saturday, 19 May 2012

Sightseeing in the Correze

Well, my sister left for Paris this morning and will fly back to Miami tomorrow. The house feels very empty and quiet, with the cats looking at us with "question mark" faces.

I'm very lucky to have such a wonderful sister and we'll miss her very much.

The weather was very nice, apart from one dismal rainy day, so it was quite good for sightseeing. Dora (don't call her the explorer!) took some very nice photos. Living in this part of France is like living in a postcard, we're very, very fortunate!

Tulle

Tulle

Treignac

Treignac

Treignac

Treignac

Treignac

Collonges-la-Rouge

Collonges-la-Rouge

Meyssac

Le Lonzac

Le Lonzac

Arnac-Pompadour

Arnac-Pompadour

Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne

Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne

Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne

Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne

Lestards

Lestards

Monday, 14 May 2012

Old slogans with a new meaning

View_From_Here sent me this hilarious collection of "new condoms."

If advertisers took the slogans from famous brands and applied them to condom packages this is what they would look like. Each slogan gets a whole new meaning... 
















Thank you, View.

Sunday, 13 May 2012

Well, isn't that precious?

Here's a lovely joke, courtesy of Mrsgunka:

Two ladies happened to start up a conversation during an endless wait in the LAX airport. The first lady was an arrogant California woman married to a wealthy man. The second was a well mannered, elderly woman from the South.

When the conversation centered on whether they had any children, the California woman started by saying, "When my first child was born, my husband built a beautiful mansion for me."


The lady from the South commented, "Well, isn't that precious?"

The first woman continued, "When my second child was born, my husband bought me a beautiful Mercedes-Benz."


Again, the lady from the South commented, "Well, isn't that precious?"

The first woman continued boasting, "Then, when my third child was born, my husband bought me this exquisite diamond bracelet."


Yet again, the Southern lady commented, "Well, isn't that precious?"

The first woman then asked her companion, "What did your husband buy for you when you had your first child?"

"My husband sent me to charm school," declared the Southern lady.


"Charm school?" the first woman cried, "Oh, my God! What on earth for?"

The Southern lady responded, "Well, for example, instead of saying 'Who gives a shit?' I learned to say, 'Well, isn't that precious'?"

Thank you, Mrsgunka.