Stumbled across this visual the other day, and I swear it supports the story I wrote months ago!!!
Here's a little throwback of that story for you to check out...it's a short excerpt from Looking for B.O.B. (BrightSides of Bull$#!+) Every Day. Hope you enjoy it!
(Also, if you or someone you know is a writer/author, and would like to do a Guest Blog on my site, please get in contact with me. I would like to add this as a regular feature to my blog as this continues to grow)!!!
"One day I was shopping with my husband and I became insanely jealous. No, it wasn’t another woman—it was that he is a guy! Let me stop you right now, because I know what you are thinking and you are wrong. This is NOT, I repeat, this is NOT one of those penis envy situations. Not at all. In fact, I will never understand men and their junk and how they manage to even, well, er, ummmm, you know, “manage.” Like walking or running, or whatevering with all that extra “stuff” they are jangling around. To me it simply defies the Laws of Physics. Enough of that. No, my jealously is that shopping for jeans is so much easier for men, and it just isn’t fair.
Seriously, not only were we at a huge box store where there is no such thing as a fitting room nor a mirror, (which doesn’t faze my husband in the least), but he barely stumbled through the entrance when he found what looked to be super great jeans, by the original maker of jeans, and they were at a ridiculously low price at that. And that’s not all! He scoured quickly through a neatly piled stack of jeans, looked at the numbers and chucked a couple pairs in the cart. Done. Then he moved on down the aisle to start scarfing down food samples that were be handed out left and right.
Are you frickin’ kidding me??? DONE??? DONE??? DONE???!!! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?
When I go shopping for jeans, I need to visit several stores, try on every single pair, take out a loan to pay for them and it can take all day or even all weekend—IF I’M LUCKY! For my husband, his whole denim buying experience took a matter of minutes. But, what REALLY pisses me off, (and this is where the jealousy really sets in), is that when he finally tried them on, (seconds before we were leaving to go out to dinner the next night), those son-of-stitches fit his fanny perfectly.
Rat bastard."
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