With every day that passes, I am growing a baby. I am reminded of this every time I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks (this is not a waxing feeling), every time I feel like I could sleep for days (what? Did I fall asleep at 7?) It's hard. You know what else is hard? My poop. Seriously. I have to work at that shit. This is classic pregnancy shit right here. Shit.
Meanwhile, the words I am about to type have been hustling through my head since Monday. . .
I feel like if I were to hold a mirror to investigate my Girlie Junk, I would need something a little more potent than a hand mirror. I know that the increased blood flow to that "area" make things feel a bit more, ummm, interesting. But, let's be honest. . . I feel like my goods must look like elephantitis took hold - can I wear this thing like a hat? Mammoth Mons. Leviathan Lips. Colossal Cootchie. Jumbo Junk.
Despite what the books say, I personally have not taken on a purplish hue. I think that might freak me out more than feeling like I have a Planetary Pubis. Yeah. I'm done.
2 comments:
Beautiful image of you and your phat rabbit as I sit in Denny's with my IPad sipping coffee.
I just choked on my apple (which I healthily chose over pulled pork).
I <3 you!
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