Slut Bomb

I gotta say, I am loving KMOJ since they started getting serious about their “R & B Guarantee”.   Though I’m not sure exactly how much R & B they’re guaranteeing.   All I know is that every time I flip over to 89.9 FM, it’s either an amazing diva belting out some serious soul (Holy sh*t, have you heard Leela James?), or some baby-makin’ classic that reminds me of being 12 and doing the grind in front of my floor-to-ceiling mirror, occasionally pausing to sing longingly at the cut-out magazine pictures of Keith Sweat taped all over the ceiling above my bed.  Why my parents allowed this, I have no idea. 

Speaking of my parents, I think I should start using some sort of parental advisory warning for them on my blog entries.   Things might start to get a little racy over here, now that I’ve tied with Diablo Cody for the honor of local Sexy Talk Blog of the Year.  That’s a lot of pressure, trying to maintain that sort of reputation.  Though I deem myself unworthy of such prestigious company.

I need to get my hands on Diablo’s book.  I still don’t have it for some stupid reason.  Really, I’m just lazy.  I guess that's a pretty stupid reason.

So, I found out that my childhood best friend’s most recent ex-boyfriend is my UPS delivery guy.   How weird is that?   Okay, not that weird, I suppose, considering they met because he was also her UPS delivery guy [bow-chicka-bow-wow].   Anyway, said UPS guy delivered an unexpected gift yesterday: the marble mortar and pestle from my Amazon Wish List that I’ve been wanting forever.   My only clue as to who it was from was the attached, handwritten note card:

Happy Holidays to my favorite hostess with the mostest. 
- The Cleavage-y Slut Bomb

Thanks, Marchelle! The best part about the card is that it was very obviously written out by an older man.  It has that elderly penmanship; you know how all old folks write exactly the same?  Like that.  I have the card sitting here at my desk because it makes me laugh.  Every time I look at it, I imagine some old guy sitting at a desk, processing orders, having to transcribe all these weird personal gift messages.  The best, best part?  He underlined “Slut Bomb”.

Comments

[MOM]

Well, I did NOT check out the links to Sexy Talk Blog or Diablo Cody -- yet. Glad to hear about KMOJ, you were probably too young to remember but we listened to that station quite a bit before we moved out of its range. Keith Sweat? Who's that? What mirrors? I fell off my chair with the visual of the old guy writing that note (arthritic penmanship). L,Mom P.S. Let me know your schedule.

[Hue]

I find your blog more entertaining than Diablo's.

[Alexis]

Aw, thanks Hue!

Mother: has it been so long since I lived in that little house on the prairie? Has it been so long since you converted my old bedroom into your office and installed a door leading out to the patio which would've been really f**king handy when I was seventeen? Okay, so it's been 11 years. But I still don't think I should have to remind you that one entire wall of my old bedroom was tiled mirrors.

[MOM]

Of course I remember those mirrored tiles!!! They ripped off the wall when I removed them and had to re-sheetrock the entire room!! I'm still laughing about an old man underlining "slut bomb."

[The Cleavagey Slut Bomb]

What Mom must think of me now. *sigh*

[Not2Sure]

What exactly is a slut bomb and how can I get one dropped on my residence?

[Bexley]

You don't want that. "The Slut Bomb" (US-CAT des. FX#HO99) is a variation of "the OMG LOL" bomb (US-CAT des. FX#WTF87) which has has it's fourteen megaton warhead payload exchanged for a five mile dispersal bacteriological warhead. While such warheads were designed to carry anthrax, ebola, and T-Virus strains, in the case of the Slut Bomb the payload is a lethal cocktail of HIV, Syphillis, and promises to call you tomorrow.

[The Cleavagey Slut Bomb]

Hey! I resent that!