In which Poppy discusses soreness, zippers, and diapers.
Hello, Pop Tarts! Things are busy as ever here at NotSafe4Werk.com as we’re all gearing up for our first ever Miss NotSafe4Werk 2015 pageant (follow that link for more information). It is going to be a blast, and I have it on good advisement that yours truly may be involved in a rather visible way – but I can’t let that cat out of the bag just yet. Coffee, however, waits for no man – or “showgirl” – so I’m tucking into my favorite corner here until I have to get back to work (which means going to my manicure appointment).
Gentle readers, I am in pain. My butt hurts like a sore-ass duck on a salt pond! You see, I started working out with a trainer last week, and he has really worked me over – and not in the way to which I am usually accustomed. I am sore in places that I didn’t know had muscles – even my teeth are sore. Seriously, it’s been rough. It’s wonderful, though, because I feel like every part of my body is getting tighter. Well, almost every part. Some things can only be surgically rejuvenated, if you get my drift.
My trainer is rather handsome. What am I saying – he’s friggin’ gorgeous! He’s 29, blond, blue eyes, and has a body that could stop traffic at rush hour. And he’s as sweet as he can be, even when he’s giving me orders and making me sweat. Our workouts are intense – I mean…I have never been commanded that strongly outside of a fetish party – but when a guy looks like Randy does (That’s his name…Randy…couldn’t you just die?), I would scrub a truck-stop toilet with my toothbrush if he asked.
Ok, so he’s not my trainer…but hey…look at that body! You’re welcome.
I’m trying to get my showgirl body back. Right now, I look a bit more like “casino in Needles” than Bally’s Las Vegas – but I’ll get there.
Enough about me…let’s see who is in the coffee shop this morning…
A Rather Fashionable Lady just walked in, but I take issue with part of her ensemble. I’ve never quite understood the trend in fashion of putting zippers in places they shouldn’t go or that have no purpose other than decoration. It’s not like a zipper is the most beautiful thing on the planet (unless it’s holding closed a bulging fly – and I’m not talking about the insect). Even in the eighties, our parachute pants had pockets behind those zippers! For those of you who don’t remember, parachute pants were pants made out of parachute material. I never liked them – you could never get any traction when sitting and they made your crotch sweat like a whore in church. Anyway – back to zippers. This Rather Fashionable Lady has a shiny gold zipper all the way down the back of her black pencil skirt, effectively making her ass look like a piece of carry-on luggage. Not a good look, bless her heart. It’s so big I think it needs to be checked. I hope she travels on Southwest.
I approve of this zipper, however.
And then there are those individuals that are extremely hot, but wear things that don’t highlight their best…er…assets. A Stunning Young Man just entered, but he’s wearing these “hanging crotch sweatpants” that are all the rage now among the guys in WeHo. They are…interesting. First of all, they do nothing for those of us who like to see a hefty basket – and by basket, I’m not talking about what you carry to a picnic. I’ll admit, a few of the styles are really cute and look good on guys, but some of them are so droopy and unflattering, those wearing them look as if they need a diaper change. Mind you, on this particular Stunning Young Man, I wouldn’t mind changing his diaper or powdering his bottom.
All that talk of zippers and baskets – and the photos I selected for today’s edition – have gotten me a little hot under the collar, Pop Tarts, so I’m going to run home and take a cold shower. On second though, I think I’ll take a warm shower with Fernando. That’ll do the trick.
Until next time!