Ass and Titties

I was taking to my lawyer/friend the other day when he said, "you know, we really could have made him pay for your tits." Well, those might not have been his exact words, but that was what he meant. In my divorce, I got screwed. You see, he had promised to buy me a set of nice, perky tits that would rival a 20 year old sorority girl in trade for me paying for his LASIK through my FSA. I want to qualify here by just reminding you to quit judging me. What woman doesn't want fresh tits? What man doesn't want a woman to have fresh tits?

Anyway, in our discussion about my never gonna happen boobs, my lawyer, who is also friends with Tim, asked if I thought he would really testify to back up my story about this verbal arrangement. And I said, "it's like you don't even know him." And really, that was the only appropriate response to such an absurd question.  Anyone that knows Tim knows that he is all about improving anyone's boobs. In fact, he doesn't even care if they are saggy, National Geographic boobs. He just thinks that if someone gets a new pair, they will be more inclined to show him. He's selfish like that.

One of the last times I was able to treat Tim to a night of ass and titties was when we're in Vegas. It was a wild night. My friend Yel was there with us along with he who shall not buy my boobs or Ass, for short. Earlier in the day, the guys had scheduled to go to the UFC fight. Yel and I had decided to shop and go to dinner then we had tickets to a Cirque show. It was perfect. 

On our way to dinner at some fancy ass restaurant in the Bellagio, we saw some guys with VIP passes to random hotspots within Sin City. We decided to stop and see what places we could check out. One of them was touted "THE BEST strip club in Vegas." And we fell for it. Hook, line, and glitter. 

The VIP passes gave us a free limo ride to the club along with free cover and a free drink for everyone in our party. What could possibly go wrong? I mean, Tim loves titties, I love limos, and Yel loves free drinks. There was nothing that could top the surprise we had waiting for the men in our party. What other woman treats her man and BFF to a night of beautiful, mostly naked women? 

Well, our Cirque show ended right after the UFC fight and both were at MGM which was the total opposite end of the strip from our casino. We had told the guys to go back to the room after the fight and to shower and get ready for our surprise. They had absolutely no clue. Since the strip club didn't have a wheelchair accessible limo, we asked the guys to call a cab and have it there at 11 so we could all go to the club together. Mind you, they still had no idea where we were going. They just knew that we thought this plan was totally unbeatable.

Well, since the UFC fight ended just before our show, the wait for a cab was longer than the wait for a negative pregnancy test at 17. Yel and I decided to walk. Which didn't seem so far. Well, it was. It took us over an hour to walk from MGM to TI in huge crowds on the 4th of July weekend when everyone was hitting the streets of Vegas at the same time. But we made the best of it. I mean, I was dancing and singing Ice Ice Baby while Yel was acting like she didn't even know me. And who could blame her. 

Either way, we eventually made it back to our casino where the guys informed us that the taxi got tired of waiting on us. So, we called the club asking them to send their limo and called a new cab. Then an argument of epic proportions ensued. Ass wanted to ride in the limo, but someone had to ride with Tim. It would have been dirty to send him alone to a place he didn't even know he was going to until he got there. 

Yel and I thought we should be able to ride in the limo because, well, we are spoiled bitches and it was OUR IDEA DAMMIT!!!! We won that argument. And mind you, we would have all taken a taxi but according to the strip club someone had to ride in the limo to get the other perks. We just didn't see any other solution. Nor did we see the karma that would come from us demanding we get to ride in this "limo." 

The taxi came and got the guys while Yel and I were waiting on our special ride. We waited and waited and never saw one pull up. Then I got a phone call stating they were at the hotel waiting on us. We saw a limo, but thought it had already been there, not a newly arrived one. We are all "did this limo just get here? I thought it was already here." "No driver waiting with a door open?" "This limo sucks! But, eh, it is a limo, right? So we should STFU." 

We tried to open the door and it was locked so I look around and see a fucking party bus with the strip club's name on it. Oh mah fucking gawd. The driver asks, "are you Megan?" And I ask how the fuck that classified as a limo. And that man said that because it can carry 15 people, they consider it a limo. I'm sorry but I've never seen a limo with a stripper pole and a disco ball. This was just my luck. Not to mention the eight or so young, barely-legal-type-young guys that were so glad we joined their fun. 

The driver said, "here's some music so you can dance." And I shit you not, one of the boys said, "yeah! We can make it rain!" "Bitch, you can't afford me" is exactly what I was thinking. Instead, I cried. I cried for the days when your biggest fear when going to the strip club was that a lap dance would give you crabs and that they only served Budweiser.

When we finally got there, the men in our group saw us run from the party bus with the look of "if you say anything, I will stab you with the severed claw of a kitten" in our eyes and that moment was never mentioned again. It was for the best.  Either way, we went inside hoping the rest of the night would be everything we had hoped it would be. It wasn't. 

Don't get me wrong, the girls were super hot. But everything else was such a money pit, I wanted to scream. A "song dance" was 40 bucks. A bottle of water was 12. And the ATM fee was 35. It was ridiculous.

We let Tim enjoy the scenery for a few hours before we left. We each got a public lap dance at 40 bucks a pop. And I asked a chick which doctor she used for her surgery. I got a nice referral. So, it wasn't all bad. But to this day, over a year later, I still get job offers through text messages fom that place. If I ever get that surgery, I might just consider it.

Your Flap-Jack Boobs, Meg

P.S. Feel free to email pics of tits to Tim at func.dysfunc@gmail.com

Gimpin' Ain't Easy

Yesterday, I went on a field trip with my daughter and over a hundred other hoodlums and snotty nosed kids.  I had an absolute blast.  First we had lunch on a riverboat.  It would have been nice and peaceful, except there were tons of bratty children running around and basically pushing each other out of the way just to see the captain.  Personall y I felt sorry for him.  First off for being stuck on a boat and having to see the same exact scenery day after day, but also because he gets gawked at by children and their nosy parents all day, every day.  I’m sure he’d rather just do his job in peace, but of course we don’t allow that.  This really was a nice preamble to the remainder of the field trip.  Kinda warmed the kids up to staring at something they knew they were supposed to be appreciating, but didn’t exactly understand why.

  After the riverboat, we went to the aquarium.  This is the first time I’ve ever visited the aquarium in Chattanooga, and it was nice, but I really expected a little more.  At least more sea creatures.  I prefer the sea life way more than river life.  The fish are more colorful, they seem more active, and they are definitely more interesting as far as their adaptations and their quirkiness.  But enough of my review, I really do have a point.  

In part of the aquarium, they had rather large turtles in a tank with other fish.  One was seemingly normal until further inspection when you saw that he was actually gimped up.  And by gimped up, I mean he was missing a back leg.  Or foot.  Or fin.  I don’t know the exact terminology for turtle anatomy, but whatever the hell it is called, he was missing one.  He was also missing part of his shell which is actually what I noticed first before I realized his whole back appendage was gone.  My first instinct was a shark attack, but you never really know.  He could have been caught in a fisherman’s net or some other freak accident like getting caught in the middle of some mermaid love triangle.  Or losing at a terrible sea version of Frogger.

  Because of this almost normal turtle, I began to think of Tim and his own gimp issues and how we all seem to have some kind of handicap, but we learn to overcome it or at least adapt to it.  Tim’s handicap is visible to everyone, well except for blind people because of their own handicap, but whatever.  Everyone who isn’t blind can see that Tim is not able to walk.  Either that or they think he’s a very good actor just looking for all the good parking spots.  Sometimes I wonder myself…

  In the end, some handicaps are able to be seen, others, well, they are hidden.  My handicap isn’t so easy to notice.  At least not to people who don’t really know me.  To the people who first meet me, I’m a little nutty, a little unorganized, and a little rude, or harsh, or just plain outspoken.  Some initially think I’m a bitch.  While I can be all of these things, those aren’t even the things that are so bad, or things that I have to learn to overcome.  But I am overcoming, I am learning, and I think all of the gimped up people and animals in my life to help teach me.

  You wouldn’t think that a dumbass redneck in a wheelchair could teach me so many things about life, but he has.  Tim, he’s a great teacher.  He taught me about physics when he tried to ramp a curb and faceplanted on the street in Nashville.  He taught me economics when he “hired a cleaning lady” and she cleaned his man pipes and not his house, but he still had to pay her.  Like I said, he is an awesome effing teacher.  And this teacher is taking me on a field trip of our own starting tomorrow.

  We will be heading to the coast in less than 24 hours.  By the time we get there, I’m sure he will have taught me more lessons.  Who knows, I might even get a lesson on anatomy or science.  Either way, I’m sure it will be a blast.  Wish us luck, and wish us good lessons.  Wish us a safe journey that doesn’t end in things like herpes or jellyfish stings.  Wish us to have a new story to tell you even though we haven’t found the time to tell you the hilarious ones of our past.

  -Your gimp loving, Meg