My Zany Years Spent Working in Tinsel Town
When the Blue Footed Boobie comes to call, do not ask why he has feet. He may not understand you.
He does however, understand his own kind … And if he happens to be a WISE BOOBIE, then his fellow birds, seeking sage advice could quite possibly, and probably will…
wait for it….
~ The Nugget
I have to admit. I fell in love with Robin Thicke’s song “Blurred Lines” (now heretofore called “Boobed Lines”) before it became a chart topper. I can’t say that it was the mastery in musicianship that drew me in, no. It happened when a former client who is engaged to a guy in Thicke’s camp shared it on her timeline on Facebook, saying “Look at what my fiancé has been up to in NYC!” You gotta hand it to the girl for being a strong woman, and so far removed from being insecure that she shared it publicly. I love that! You go girl.
I decided I liked the video. “Like” for the song immediately followed, and now it’s one of those songs that gets my groove on.
I watched the video in amazement as these gorgeous, hot models paraded on and off the stage topless, bouncing their boobies proudly. Who doesn’t like boobies? And given that we are fast approaching Ovarian & Breast Cancer Awareness Months, well guess what? I’m going to share the unrated version with you right here and now. Damn straight. Be PROUD if you have beautiful boobs ladies, and be proud of other women who are BODACIOUS and have the MOXY to strut their stuff, fearing not any repercussions.
At work, don’t like boobs, or happen to have kiddos around?
Without further adieu, here is one of my new fav’s for the summer:
As promised, this week, I’m thrilled to welcome Marrie Lobel in this, her sophomore installment as guest-contributor. Her blog, Dirty in Public, is one of my personal favorites. I’ve enjoyed reading her posts over the last year or so, and I’m excited to host her once again. Please read, enjoy, “Share” (hit the share button and post it everywhere) and Tweet about this little piece. Let’s show Marrie just how much we appreciate intelligent, articulate writing here – even if it is ever so mischievous.
And so, without further adieu, I present to you “The Boobie Chronicles: My First Mammogram, Daisy Pasties, and Ms. Nippy Fingertips.”
xoxo
Ms. Cheevious , Editor in(Mis) Chief
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As you know October was Breast Cancer Awareness month, and this being my 40th year, I was honored {not, really} to be a part of the month long celebration by having my first mammogram. I admit that I suffered a painful pang in the pit of my stomach when I was informed that I was due for my first mammogram; the pang? How can I be due for a mammogram? I’m too young. After all, I’m not a member of any garden club and don’t own a single ornate red hat. That morning I woke up, got dressed and envisioned a large red feathered hat on my head when I did my final glance in the mirror before setting off to the doctor’s office.
Shortly after signing in, I was called and escorted into the back, where the latest in medical fashion awaited me. I undressed and slipped into the oversized, fashion faux-pas {with the opening in the front, of course} and stood there waiting for the tech to come back while being stared down by a large menacing machine from the corner of the room. After a brief wait the technician came in and greeted me warmly; which contrasted the temperature in the room. As she gave me the cliff notes on how the examination was to unfold it occurred to me that she has seen more boobies than most men ever will in their lives. The odd contemplation that danced in my head suddenly blossomed into insecurity. I began to shrug my shoulders with uneasiness at my internal awkwardness. What if my tata’s didn’t measure up? It’s one thing to be assessed by a man; it’s another to be by a certified boobie specialist…who happens to be a woman with a nice rack of her own! It was then that things got interesting.
The tata expert handed me two small daisy print band-aids and asked me to place them over my nipples. They were adorable and I decided immediately that I needed to snag a stack for my personal amusement. I had always wanted to try pasties but had never imagined that my first time would be initiated by a woman in Bettie Boop scrubs.
Once the daisy adhesive body art was affixed properly, the tata aficionado placed her hand on the small of my back as she nudged me closer to the machine that had been glaring at me in a domineering manner since the moment I entered the room. Without further small talk or even a drink, I found my right breast being tenderly grasped; her nippy fingertips flipping and fondling me into position. The funny thing is I remember looking at my boob in her hand and noticing how it looked like a glob of silly goo. Between the nippy fingertips, the daisy pasties, and my goo boob it was immediately obvious that for the first time in my life my breasts were being man-handled and there was absolutely nothing sexy about it! Ms. Nippy Fingertips sweet-talked her way through the examination, attempting to ease my physical discomfort and my emotional unease. Not that any kind words can really make the sensation of your breast being pulled then flattened within a few centimeters of busting pleasant. Suddenly, without warning, Ms. Nippy Fingertips flipped the lights on bright and said I could get dressed.
Because Ms. Nippy Fingertips and Dr. Tata wanted to ensure my first mammogram was a memorable one-I had to immediately go through it all again; this time with the added bonus of an ultrasound. The results from my initial x-rays found something “unusual”. Now, I like being different but this is the one time when a simple; “You’re normal”, would have been just fine by me.
Lather, Rinse, Repeat
Like some twisted Groundhog Day, I repeated all the steps, daisy pasties and all. The small talk and examination narrative were reduced to simple you-know-the-drill directives. This time all the real action happened in the back room. Still looking hot in my hospital gown, I was funneled through the back door into another room where an exam table, dimmed mood lighting, and cold lubricant jelly waited for me. An attractive, chit-chatty woman with a bright pink lab coat suggested I flop onto the table and relax awhile. Before I knew it I was dolling dating advice with my breasts glistening with lubricant while being massaged with an ultrasound wand. I know it sounds like some twisted porn set-up but that’s just how I roll. Just me, the pink lady, and my daisy pasties had good times that day. As for the examination, I was relieved to hear that I was “normal” in an abnormal way and with that the green light was given.
As I removed the lube from my boobies I realized that a new chapter in my boobie chronicles had just closed; leaving my boobies free to wave in good health and laughter. Although I’m not quite ready to join the Red Hat Society or a garden club, I do carry the memory of my first mammogram experience as a rite of passage and my stack of pasties as a spirited memento.
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Tune in next time for a post of my secret divining…
Love you people! Mmmmppphhhuuuhhh!!!
xoxo,
Ms. Cheevious
Editor in [Mis]Chief
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Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious.
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ABOUT MARRIE LOBEL
Marrie is a Geekalicious NorCal Betty masquerading opinions about dating, sex & relationships as fact through dirty talk & wicked rants. You can read more on her personal blog, Dirty In Public and on Singles Warehouse where she is an #SWEXPERT contributor.
MORE WAYS TO FIND MARRIE
Website: www.DirtyInPublic.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/DirtyInPublic @DirtyInPublic
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DirtyInPublic
Ms. Cheevious Note: This week, I’m thrilled to welcome Marrie Lobel as one of our guest-contributors. Her blog, Dirty in Public, happens to be one of my personal favorites. Her provocative, articulate posts range from true-life stories and the lessons learned, to tips for how to behave (or not) in “special” situations. She’s our Bomb-a-licious contributor (she is, after all, The BOMB). Here, she’s graced us with her take on all the wonderful things that make women, well, fabulously female.
You all know what to do: Read, enjoy, “Share” (hit the share button and post it everywhere) and Tweet to your heart’s content about this little piece. Let’s show her some love.
xoxo
Ms. Cheevious , Editor in (Mis) Chief
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I’m so glad I’m a woman. By saying this I am not bashing all you fabulous men. I’m fairly confident I could write an equally flattering post on how wonderful it is to be a man; however I’m not one. With all the drama, back-stabbing, cackling, and gossiping associated with the female of our species there are still some pretty marvelous things about being a chick. Rather than dwelling on all the negatives, I thought it would be fun to take note and celebrate all the glorious reasons why I’m glad to be a woman…and why other women should be too.
I Have Boobs: They’re fabulous, fun, and breathtaking. I can prop them up or dress them down but no matter what, they’re always a lovely accessory. Size doesn’t even particular matter…men are just pleased as punch to have the opportunity to be face-to-face with these mystical feminine lumps.
I Can Procreate: I admit that having children can be a pain in the…well…neck; however, I’m still in awe at the experience of having grown a child inside of me. It’s common but no less incredible. The bond I felt while nurturing my daughter has to be one of the most extraordinary experience I have had or ever will have. I know some women feel it to be a curse but for me it’s the best part of being a woman; labor and all.
I Get to Be Emotional: I am free to cry and have insecurities. I get to experience and enjoy my moods unabashedly. I get to indulge my weakness and celebrate my strengths in full glory for all to see. Women are known as emotional creatures…and that’s fine by me!
I Get to Wear Make-Up: Nature isn’t always kind, that’s why I thank my maker and Lancome for make-up! Got a blemish? No, worries, I have concealer. Looking pale? Bronzer to the rescue. Putting my best face forward and dolling myself up makes me feel confident on the inside because I know I look good on the outside. As superficial as it may sound, sometimes it’s the little things like pretty lipgloss that can get you through the day with a smile on your face.
I Don’t Have a Penis: Elaine from Seinfeld said it best, “I don’t know how you guys walk around with those things.” TRUE DAT! Shrinkage, spontaneous erections, and constant shifting…my god, it’s a virtual circus in their pants at all times. No wonder men are known for thinking with their unit, so much of men’s metal energy is devoted to his penis’ well-being their mind might as well stay there!
I Get to Have a Job I Enjoy: Yeah, I know, women make less for the same jobs and her odds of promotion depend on how well connected her male counterparts may be. But hey, let’s face it; women are happier with their career choices and experience less pressure to uphold the family name or bring in the big bucks as many men feel. Women also have more job security {women have weathered the recession better than men} and keep their positions longer. For me enjoying what I do is more important than how much money is in the bank. Because I’m a woman, I’m free to pursue my interests independent of expectations.
I Have Feminine Charm: Just as the size of your boobs doesn’t really matter for most, neither does your dress size. Women have a power all their own; if a woman feels sexy and owns her sexuality her body shape is of little importance. I love that through the power of desire, I can bring the strongest man to his knees if I put my mind to it {for good reason}. I love owning my sexuality and empowered by the energy of my sensuality. Women may be the fairer sex, but that doesn’t mean we are all Snow White!
I Have Female Intuition: Personal experience has taught me that I have an instinctive understanding about life, love, and the dynamics of personal relationships. I tend to be the glue that holds my family together and the rock that supports in times of great need or sorrow. Like many women, I can hear what is not being said and understand why. Women are shrewd family negotiators and insightful mediators to friends. Women are intuitive about the complexities of personal situations and respond, well, tactfully.
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ABOUT MARRIE LOBEL
Marrie is a Geekalicious NorCal Betty masquerading opinions about dating, sex & relationships as fact through dirty talk & wicked rants. You can read more on her personal blog, Dirty In Public and on Singles Warehouse where she is an #SWEXPERT contributor.
MORE WAYS TO FIND MARRIE
Website: www.DirtyInPublic.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/DirtyInPublic @DirtyInPublic
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DirtyInPublic
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All Blog content copyright 2012, LISA JEY DAVIS aka Ms. Cheevious
Yes I am! And PROUD OF IT! Ha ha!
I’m sorry!
I’ve just not had a single chance to get the final footage (and fun, loopy moments with my cast of characters) storyboarded, coordinated, filmed and edited to fill in the blanks on my REAL Costa Rica video… soooooo, here is the teaser – or trailer…
Please share, post comments, subscribe, everything! Who knows… maybe there is a little somethin’ somethin’ in it for ya… but JUST DO IT. 🙂
Did you watch it? Whaddya think? Ready to see another appearance by the all-talented Alexi Faharazachikn (aka MISHKA) as a Costa Rican Woman – or maybe a tourist? Or how about a new couple-o characters??
Stay tuned…. coming soon, I promise! You will laugh out loud at what we’ve got brewing. Promise!
Have a fantastic weekend you gorgeous humans!
Love you people!!!! Mmmmmmphhhuuuhhhhhhh!!!
xoxo,
Ms. Cheevious
www.MsCheevious.com
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Blog content copyright 2011, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious
