Saturday, September 11, 2010

The Sweatiest Thing I've Ever Posted

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....


Pete Schweddy said...

I have a feeling people will confuse this story about sweaty balls with my famous family delicacy.

Pete Schweddy said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
The Honorable Mayor of Bethville said...

Sorry, Pete. I was popping one of your Schweddy balls into my mouth and thinking about how enjoyable it was when I saw your comment. I hope no one will get too confused.