Victoria's Secret - she sucks

I fired myself from NaBloPoMo. My mind was far to preoccupied with other nonsense for me to even try to write something that would make sense to anyone besides a monkey. But HERE I AM. For the many many people that have missed me and my pointless chatter. I missed you both too.



I am sitting at my table which at one point sat in our condo as our dining room table, and is now my creative desk, (crafts and stuff) and I am looking at the sad excuse of a bra that decided since it got washed it wanted to spit out the wire which worked so well just yesterday in supporting my boobage. Now I need to go get a new one. I hate bra shopping more than regular clothes shopping. Each brand decides to have a different meaning behind each of their sizes. I think I was a A cup in one and a triple D in another. Please don't get me more confused than necessary. I should be a C cup after my reduction surgery, but because Jesus hates me I think I am now a D if not double DD. I just threw up in my mouth.

Besides the lying sizes, trying on bra's is more exercise than I would like to partake in. You are half naked in the dressing room in front of the most unflattering mirror the kind that belongs in the fun house at a circus, with the yellow lights that makes even Rachel Weisz look like Mimi, sweating trying to position you boobage into bear traps and look sexy all at the same time. Jesus is such an asswhole.
The wire poking out is starting to laugh at me. I don't find it funny. It actually makes me want to rip the whole thing into tiny pieces. I might need to see someone about my little anger problem. But then again if they end up saying something I don't like, would I want to rip them into tiny pieces? Maybe it is safer for everyone if I just go buy a new bra continue to curse Jesus and his hatred for me, and no one will get hurt.