Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I know you have all been waiting in anticipation for another month of terrifying Friday story time. So, starting Friday, October 1, be prepared for the return of Frightening Fridays, when I tell you a blood-curdling tale of fear so terrifying that you will cling to your teddy bear every night and hope that you do not slip into a dark abyss filled with nightmare bats, fear spiders, and people without working flashlights.
Terror! Fear! Scary things! October 1 and every Friday until Halloween! Be there!
Your Evil Cruise Director on This Boat Going Straight to Scary Town
The Mayor of Bethville
Monday, September 13, 2010
Well, I hope you got some sleep and didn't stay awake for the last two days waiting to hear the rest of the story of Boobsweaterella.
If you did, I would hate to keep you waiting any longer. So, read on.
The Continued Tale of Boobsweaterella
If you recall, Boobsweaterella's stepsisters had left for the ball. And Boobsweaterella was fanning her stepmother so that she wouldn't get dehydrated.
"AAAAAA! You're dripping sweat all over me!" cried the stepmother.
"Sorry," said Boobsweaterella.
"Never mind," said the stepmother. "Go inside and get me a popsicle."
In the kitchen, Boobsweaterella was met by her very sweaty fairy godmother wearing her favorite hot weather muumuu.
"Let's cut to the chase," said the fairy godmother, "because it is seriously hot up in this piece. I'm your fairy godmother, and you want to go to the ball, right?"
"Nah, not really," said Boobsweaterella.
"Sure you do," said the fairy godmother.
"No, I really don't," Boobsweaterella replied.
"Well, okay then. Do you want to just take off our bras and make margaritas?"
And so they did.
You: Hey! What about the other characters in the story?
You: You know, the stepmother waiting for her popsicle. The stepsisters? The handsome prince? The ball?
Me: Oh, right right right.
The actual end of the story:
Boobsweaterella finally agreed to go to the ball after much chiding from her fairy godmother. She put on her best cotton sundress and gave her armpits an extra swipe of Speed Stick. With a wave of her magic wand, the fairy godmother produced a bicycle out of thin air. "Have a good time!" she called as Boobsweaterella pedaled off down the road. Any other mode of transportation would have been suffocating on such a hot night, so she was pleased with the bicycle.
Boobsweaterella finally arrived at the ball. You already know what happened next. The prince saw her amazing knockers and fell instantly in love, completely unafraid of being turned into a skin coat. They danced and danced and sweated all over each other.
But suddenly, at the stroke of midnight, Boobsweaterella remembered that her stepmother was still sitting out on the patio unfanned and probably quite dehydrated.
"Oh, no!" she cried. "I have to go!"
"Stop!" the prince cried, panting after her.
But Boobsweaterella ran out the castle gates and pedaled off on her waiting bicycle, leaving only a trail of perspiration behind her for the prince to remember her by.
Now, you're probably thinking, "Great! Now the prince will have to go all around the kingdom and find the mysterious woman who left that trail of sweat behind!" And you would be wrong. He used the phone book. There weren't many listings for "Boobsweaterella" in that kingdom, let me tell you.
Early the next morning after changing into a less sweaty pair of boxer shorts, the handsome prince set off in search of his love.
Five minutes later, the prince found Boobsweaterella's house and knocked on the door.
When she opened the door, and the prince recognized the sweatiest, most bountiful rack he had ever seen, he instantly proposed marriage.
But Boobsweaterella, who was a cynic and was pretty sure the prince had not once looked at her face, told him no and went back to fanning her stupid stepsisters.
Eventually, she went to college, became a scientist, and invented a special antiperspirant for the below-boob area. She made millions.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Dearest Welcome to Bethville readers. I apologize once again for the many delays between posts. I have been truly busy. First, I went on vacation. Then, the second I got back, I was sidelined by a big writing project, which will definitely be causing more delays. Thirdly, I am helping a very old, and quite undead friend out with his new blogging project. I hope you will check out Questions for Dracula and ask him many, many questions. Or he may come to your house and drink your blood. Just warning you.
Excuses out of the way, I would like to discuss something of dire importance with you.
"What is it?" you ask, leaning closer so you don't miss anything important. "Is she going to talk about the economy? Civil Rights? Abortion? Or the dangers hamsters face on a daily basis when one of them is using the hamster wheel going in one direction and another one is going in the opposite direction and inevitably one of them is flung off in a very disgraceful manner?"
No! It's none of these things. It's boob sweat.
"Gross!" you say and stomp away from your computer.
Fine. Be that way, Stompy McStomperson. I'll tell the people who are still reading a most gripping tale of sweatiness. So get out your moist towelettes and read on.
The Very Sweaty Tale of Boobsweaterella
Boobsweaterella lived with her stepmother and two stepsisters in one of the most humid kingdoms in the history of time. And because this was a very humid fairy tale kingdom, Willis Haviland Carrier did not exist. Hence, there was no air conditioning anywhere. Everyone was very, very, sweaty.
So, it was Boobsweaterella's job to fan her stepmother and two stepsisters with an enormous fan while they sat in the shade and sipped lemonade.
"Fan harder, Boobsweaterella!" cried the stepmother dabbing her forehead with a tissue.
Ironically, no one in the family was as hot as Boobsweaterella because while they were all rather small-chested, Boobsweaterella was rocking a pair of D-cups. And as anyone with D-cups knows, in the summer, it's like having a pair of sweat cannons strapped to your chest.
"I'm trying!" said Boobsweaterella, fanning like mad and self-consciously tugging at her dress, which had developed a very unseemly stripe of sweat in the lower bosom region.
"Gross!" said one of the stepsisters, noticing and pointing because she clearly thought, as many do, that people who are sweating are completely unaware of their sweatiness and need to be reminded.
"I can't help it," said Boobsweaterella. "It's so humid outside."
"You're disgusting, Boobsweaterella," said the stepmother. "Go inside and change into something less sweaty."
And Boobsweaterella did.
Meanwhile, across the kingdom a very sweaty handsome prince was preparing to embark on the very annoying and cliched mission of finding a wife.
"We'll throw a ball," said his father, the king, rubbing his forehead with an ice cube. "And we'll invite all the women in the land. You'll dance with all of them, and at the end of the night, you'll choose your favorite."
Which seems totally logical because you can learn everything you need to know about someone in a single night. Like whether or not she is a serial killer who likes to attend balls, seduce handsome princes, and then lure them to dark bedchambers and make handsome prince skin coats from their hot flesh.
"Okay, father," said the prince, who was far to hot to argue.
So, the date of the ball was set, and everywhere around the kingdom people were preparing. And the women at Boobsweaterella's house were no exception. Then, the night finally arrived.
Unfortunately, not one outfit in their closets was suitable for wearing on a humid night. So, one of the stepsisters put on a pair of gym shorts and tore off the sleeves of a T-shirt. The other stepsister put on a bikini top and a pair of cutoffs.
"You look beautiful!" gushed their mother. "The prince will love you for sure."
"What shall I wear?" asked Boobsweaterella.
"You're not going!" said the stepmother. "You must stay at home and fan me or I will get dehydrated."
Boobsweaterella, who was secretly happy that she got to stay home because it was too hot to be in a crowded ballroom, set to work fanning her stepmother while the two stepsisters headed for the ball.
Now, you're probably waiting for Boobsweaterella's fairy godmother to arrive. And she will, but right now it's almost 2:00 AM and I am very sleepy. So I will get to her tomorrow.
To be continued....