Thursday, October 05, 2006

Death by Lingerie



I'm exaggerating the "death" part, of course. But not by much. Clearly, I'm not dead. I don't think. Somebody might want to check, just to be sure. If you're a woman, you're probably familiar with underwire bras. They work admirably insofar as creating shapely contours, and nobody can complain about what they do for cleavage. I mean, some of us would have none to write home about if it weren't for the underwire revolution. Paradoxically, your pretty (and damned expensive!) bra can turn on you and attack you every bit as viciously as a pack of jackals. It's ... wire, after all -- the same stuff they use to keep convicts in and quarantine rabid dogs behind and ... transmit high voltage that'll kill you if you touch it.

You know how the curved wires are tucked safely into their little satin seams so they can't poke you. Ideally. Alas, things don't always work properly, certainly never ideally, especially when there's an Evil Voodoo Snark Moon afoot.

I noticed this little "pricking" sensation somewhere on my chest while still at work. I didn't pay it much mind. After all, I'm always feeling invisible pokes, phantom stings, psychosomatic itching. You get the picture. Trouble is, I kept feeling it. Relentlessly. Finally, I headed for the ladies room, where I lifted my shirt to take a look and see what the heck was going on.

Mmm-hmm -- one end of one of those nasty little wires had popped its bindings and proceeded to stick the living fire out of me. I pushed it back into its little pocket, as far back as it would go, and smoothed the fabric down over it. VoilĂ  , problem solved. I was pretty sure that would hold me 'til I got home. But noooooo.

In the middle of Wal-Mart buying groceries, the darn wire broke through again and began to poke and prod me. Those things would make good cattle prods, except that I would never advocate tormenting poor cows so cruelly. I should have known the Doom Moon wasn't going to let me off so easily. I should have stayed home.

So there I am, being mauled at Wally World by underwear Torquemada would have admired, totally at the mercy of my attack bra. There's not much you can do for such a delicate problem in public, not if you don't want to be mistaken for a St. Vitus' Dance victim or, worse, an exhibitionist. Believe me, I was tugging and pulling, shoving and twisting every time I thought nobody was looking, trying valiantly not to flash anyone with glimpses of lace and satin and ... metal. Being poked by wires is purely miserable. Why do we women even accept underwear with lethal weapons in it, underwear that can flunk the airport wand test and garner you a strip search? And pay outrageous prices for it to boot! I want to know who thought up this diabolical concept. I want to hurt them. Bad.

These guys, these Words Gone Bad, hurt my psyche. Bad.

Defined by Roxan:

Crmes - Misdemeanors committed by bumbling crooks.

Aperently - They also rent chimps and spider monkeys.

Missassipi - Maiden daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Assipi.

Epoepl dsiapier - Another fake Harry Potter word. A spell that glues diapers permanently to the head of the victim. One of the "Dark Arts."

Realated - To actually have put food in one's mouth, chewed and swallowed it.

If you don't tie up cover the table proply the wover will blow away - Now I know how dyslexics feel.

I'd like your expert opinions on these banditos:

in habdouts

on my hols

And I think these are defined thusly:

I need an agent to find us a published!!! - You need more than an agent, but it's not our place to tell you.

intamatic - A new-fangled hospital machine which intubates patients automatically.

condemend - A patched-up condom. Personally, I wouldn't use it if I were you.

19 comments:

Liz said...

Oh, tell me about it! I haven't had an escaping wire yet but i do currently have two little (well they were) spots just where the wire goes. Result: pain and much twitching and oh so subtle adjustments. Same with knickers that edge their way up and have to be adjusted just before you're realise there's a security camera looking down on you.

Serena Joy said...

LOL, Liz. I know that twitching/adjusting thing well. People look at you like you're having some kind of fit. And the knickers in a twist deal is just as bad, maybe worse. Inadvertent wedgies are no picnic. I hate to think how often our little undie mishaps have ended up on film.:)

Anonymous said...

I know way too much about the world of the underwire bra.

Anonymous said...

in habdouts- a famous Mushmouth quote from season 3 of "Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids". Translates to "I have doubts."

on my hols- is not really a bad one it seems. It is a British term for "vacation".

On my hols means on my holiday.

Gotta release the innocent

Serena Joy said...

I know way too much about the world of the underwire bra.

Rut-row. Do we want to know details? LOL.

Serena Joy said...

in habdouts- a famous Mushmouth quote from season 3 of "Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids". Translates to "I have doubts."

Oh, thank goodness! I was afraid it might have something to do with al-Qaeda.

On my hols means on my holiday.
Gotta release the innocent.


On behalf of the bounty hunter who brought that one in, mea culpa. I've never heard that term before, either. We're releasing that innocent and giving him cab fare home.

Anonymous said...

uh,.....em....uh......I had scratchy underwear once......

Anonymous said...

That bra is more scary than Haggis

Serena Joy said...

Only once, Rex? You're lucky.:)

Serena Joy said...

Yeah, that is a pretty ugly example of a Wonder Bra. I kind of liked the butterfly detail, though. LOL.

RexZeitgiest said...

Starch....lol

Steve G said...

A poke now and then can be painful. Not sure if their holding up their end of the bargain is worth it. (smile)

Southern Writer said...

omg. Help me up off the floor. It's all so true. I have found that always - and I mean always washing those little suckers on gentle helps keep those wires from popping though for a lot longer. When they do pop, I have to take the time to put a few stitches in the hole, or I'll never be able to wear that bra again. That's a cute bra, btw.

I have a pair of panties made of stretch lace - some of my favorites that I've hung onto for far longer than I should admit - but every time I wear them, they ride up on one side. Always the same side. So there I am, on the Wally World parking lot security cameras, removing a wedgie. Don't even get me started on thongs. There's a reason they've been nicknamed "anal floss."

The Rick said...

Well done! Truly entertaining entry. Pokes can be fun, but not in this case. Now, about some men's underwear....

Serena Joy said...

I know what you mean about lace panties, Lesia. And if there's any stretchy stuff in it, forget about it -- it's going to ride up in the worst possible way, at the worst possible time. Law of nature. As for anal flossing thongs, I have one word. No! I am soooooooo not into masochism.:)

Rex -- change laundries!

Steve and Rick -- thank you, gentlemen.

Hop Sing Mohammed said...

Rex no can change laundry missy, he bery bery good customer.

Serena Joy said...

ROTFLMAO! You're going to have to Hop Mo Better, Sing -- in other words, keep the starch out of the drawers. Bery, bery scratchy, make patron hop around and switch laundry.:)

Liz said...

I bought some new pants and immediately they started riding up. I began to grumble until I realised it wasn't the pants that were riding up but my bottom that was working its way down.

Serena Joy said...

LOL, Liz. I guess gravity gets us all in the end.