Welcome to the PantyZone

Thank goodness I did a full year of teacher training, it has equipped me with the invaluable skill of manufacturing time-consuming word searches for Humphrey. As he is stricken with the memory of an aging goldfish he can do the same one over and over again, so it really is a win-win situation. In order to keep his old brain ticking over I like to include words like ‘discombobulate’ and ‘alligator’ as well as a few easier one-syllable numbers like ‘pot’ and ‘owl’. Humphrey is also an enthusiastic jigsaw puzzler we are currently on the second 500 piece Titanic jigsaw. I marvel at his discombobulated brain because although he can’t retain basic information like that his mother died some 30 years ago, he can spend hours piecing together the Titanic.

Aside from jigsaws and word searches I am bored out of my little box. To pass the time I’ve taken to eating - a dangerous pastime I well know. Yesterday an entire bar of Green and Black’s chocolate passed my lips and is no doubt wedging itself onto my hips as we speak. This is alarming not because I’m particularly worried about my ever-expanding derriere out of vanity or for fear of my marriage (the Husband has kindly commented that he will still love me if I grow to the size of a house – isn’t he a good liar) no, I’m worried because I am as previously mentioned to be a bridesmaid at my dear school chum Klong’s wedding. And Klong will not take kindly to a heifer galloping down the aisle behind her. And so I need to step away from the biscuit tin for fear of the arse to dress ratio of my bridesmaid’s ensemble.

In order to distract myself from the ubiquitous sweets and cakes that are always to be found in geriatric homesteads I have taken to reading the home shopping guide with increased interest. I was amazed to note that in this particular home shopping guide one can purchase a non-slip bath mat, avocado peeler or vibrator?! However my favourite item on display has to be the Slimboxer, which appears to be some sort of Bridget Jones’ control-pant for men:

According to the manufacturers, “Once you wear it, you will immediately feel that Slimboxer reinforces, invigorates and revitalises your entire bust. [Do men need and invigorated Bust?] A wellbeing and energy feeling [?] propagates from your thighs up to your chest top" [saucy].

So that is the Husband’s Christmas present taken care off. And I can continue eating like a bulimic locked in the pantry because I can simply wear the ‘PantyZone’ under my bridesmaid’s dress, which will afford me an “ enhanced, rounded, pulpy [?] and sexy buttocks…as though you intensively practiced a sport activity.” Apparently one's bottom requires pulpy-ing because (and i quote) "as one gets older, the body starts producing more of some hormones that may masculinize your shape (hips become linear, buttocks fall, the belly becomes round and the waist measurement thicks.)"

Well, shit, if my hips will be nothing but lines, my buttocks is going to prolapse and my waist is going to thick I might as well eat another bloody biscuit...