cellulite

All posts tagged cellulite

One Day in the Life of Sandee Denisovich

Published July 22, 2013 by Sandee

Me!

I love saying this as a way to outline a day in my life.  It’s my tribute to Solzhenitsyn.  I don’t mean to diminish the meaning of the book, which is about a Soviet prisoner.

Either way, here’s one day in my roach infested life:

number A – Saw my friend J. who goes to the nudie beach.  I’m planning to go with.  Only thing it costs 45 fucking dollars to take the ferry there.  He says he’d pay, but does that mean I’d have to, you know, put lotion on his buttocks?

number B – I thoroughly enjoyed hugging a man with a southern accent who smelled like cigarettes.

number C – I planned to come home and unfriend someone on Facebook.   Though we were just acquaintances, I thought we had a mutual interest in each other’s lives.  But while this person is ‘liking’ up everybody else’s posts, they have yet to ‘like’ anything I post.  I have other FB ‘friends’ who ignore me, but with this person it’s rather curious.  It would be fine if they hadn’t acted so friendly and interested when I used to see them.  Wull, anyways, I’m trying to sell books and FB is my poor ass attempt at marketing — when I feel like it.  So when I got home, I decided, maybe I won’t unfriend them just yet.

number D – I got a sweet gift from a blogger — but if I told you what it was I’d have to kill you.

number E – Okay so, I watched a man and a woman emerge from a single unisex public toilet — hubba hubba!

number F — I’m ‘watering’ my neighbor’s apartment while he’s away.  It’s all clean in there since he married his girlfriend.  And I think she threw all his cookies away.  I was planning on grabbing a few but when I looked at the shelves where he usually keeps them, there weren’t any.   I mean — this man stocked up on cookies like he was a Keebler elf — it was insane — once I counted 15 packages of cookies.  So I just dropped off his mail, watered the plants and got the hell out of there.  I did stare at his liquor bottles, tempted to open one just to smell it, but as people who know me know, I need to stay thirty yards away from liquor because it turns me into a damn Gremlin.  The cool thing is that he finally got rid of that furry toilet seat cover.  I HATE anything furry in the bathroom, especially in the vicinity of the toilet with all those bacteria and microscopic organisms — ew!  My ex had one and I was always uncomfortable in his apartment because I knew there was one in the bathroom.

number G — I read this great post on the Outlier Collective about cellulite! Made me proud to have it!

G’night!

The Sloan Kettering T**ty Smashing Machine and Other Tragedies

Published May 23, 2012 by Sandee

I am mean?  No, I am not mean.  But there is no way that I would have been able to tolerate what I witnessed behind the front desk at the Sloan Kettering Breast Center as I waited for my breast screening.  In the past as an office worker sentenced to sit next to some of the most hideously unprofessional people I have ever had the displeasure of working with, I have had the task of asking them to please keep their voices down when talking incessantly to coworkers instead of working, and to please turn down hideous pop music blaring from their cheap radios.

A worker behind the desk at Sloan Kettering had some holy roller preacher blaring on her computer.  Yasah, Jaysus-sah – praise Gawd!  Because ya see Jaysus loves ya, yasah!  Unbefucking-lievable!  This should never be tolerated in a place of business.  Another woman sits at her chair behind the desk and starts singing – OVER the other woman’s holy roller station!  And she’s singing a gospel song!  I’m thinking how rude this all is, and at the same time she’s singing music which would imply that she would be respectful to her fellow God-fearing man.  So she then turns on her computer, which is less than two feet away from the other woman with her holler roller station still on.  Her computer comes on, and ta-dahhhh, she plays gospel music on hers!  So we’ve got competing gospel stations on and one bitch singing!  And this is a place of business.

But, they seemed all kumbayah about it as the two competing gospel women began a conversation.  The one who was singing turned around, and I saw that she wore the tightest pants on one of the cottage cheesiest of behinds.  I could see the holes of her butt through her pants.  She says to her competing holy roller friend, “I thought these pants would be too tight.  But I lost a lot of weight.”  Her friend smiles beatifically and says, “Oh so they fit now.  That’s good.”  They weren’t religious rivals after all, but supportive friends and coworkers.  Who knew?

There was a third woman behind the desk who seemed oblivious to it all as she sailed through her work without a twitch, except for a questionable glance in my direction, which might have been interpreted as “Help me…”  She was a saint I tell ya!  I don’t think I could’ve dealt with that shit.

What I did have to deal with was having my already nearly non-existing breasts smashed to pieces in that God-forsaken machine!   The wig-wearing technician was a sadist!!  “I have to make this a liii-tle tighter,” she says, turning the knob further around.  “Seriously,” I tell her, “I never had this thing turned up so tight before.”  I left out of there screaming, I swear, “My titties hurt!”  I think I scared her.  Maybe she didn’t want to get fired.  In the dressing room, when I couldn’t find my glasses she ran over to help me look for them trying to be all nice and everything.

Lastly, the show on the TV in the second waiting room, the one away from the front where all the women wear robes, was a breast cancer awareness program.  I realized that one of the actors in the film was an ex friend of mine!  Ahaha!!  Could this day not be any more interesting?  She played a sympathetic family member.  (What a joke!)  I thought, well at least the bitch is getting some work.