GIVE ME A BOOB, I'LL MAKE YOU LAUGH

This is one of those TMI kind of posts, so read on at your peril.

It was that time of year, yep ladies of my age group, the mammogram time of year. I actually don't mind them. I don't love or even LIKE them, mind you, but they are much less painful than say bending your naill back or having someone touch your belly-button. But my point.

Oh, my point was that my technician was HI-LAR-I-OUS with a captial "H." Like one of those crazy unexpected characters that make your day. In the space of about 20 minutes, we covered these topics: Whether or not I liked the scent of a new hand lotion she'd just bought, the pros/cons of dating older vs. younger men, foot fetishists, art, real estate, NY vs. SF and how awful it would be to have a baby in your mid-to-late 40s. The capper was when she asked me what I did and then told me: "I won't help you do your advertising and you don't help me put your boob on the glass." And, well, who can argue with that?

Because I feel the need to post a pix, I'm also including a shot of my new dining room rug. Zootie the Clown likes it and I do, too.

xxoo

Stormi