With about 1/3 of the yogurt left, I was walking through the kitchen toward the trashcan when I dropped the cup onto the floor. Strawberry-flavored dairy-product shot upward in a pink, inertia-powered fountain. Of course, I was bent over this fountain.
Yogurt in my hair, on my shirt, all up my pants. On the stove, all over the floor, as it rained down from the heavens above. One tiny dot of yogurt on the ceiling. A large splotch on my neck, right under my chin.
I stood there for a moment, still hungry, covered in yogurt, and considered picking up the plastic cup and scraping the last two bites out of the bottom before cleaning up the mess.
Decided to give up, chuck the rest, and get the dairy off of me before I began to curdle and smell.
Then, yesterday, went to a chamber luncheon. Lunch was fine. The dessert was already at each place setting when we sat down. It was some sort of raspberry mousse, molded into a little mound, with berries resting next to it.
It looked like the center of the table was encircled with plates of pink, quivering boobs.
Of course, I can�t be a grownup and keep this observation to myself. So I nudged the guys next to me and pointed out the Porno-For-Dessert. Deciding it would be obnoxious to take one of the raspberries and give my own pink, quivering boob a nipple, I just gestured, hinting at it.
One of the guys next to me made HIS berry into a nipple! Then took credit for MY obnoxiousness! Fucker.
They sure were fun to eat, though. And they had cake in the middle! The guy next to me nudged me, and pointed it out, murmuring, �Extra support, huh?�
But this time, I one-upped him with the far-wittier, �Implants, yo.�
They sure were fun to eat.
