Repellows, it pains me to announce a week long sabbatical starting right here and now in favor of substituting bread with cardboard squares more traditionally called “matzah.” Unfortunately though, there is no other way: I am very, very, busy reciting the story of Exodus with my extended family in the Sunshine State while simultaneously radiating my skin. I’m so white, I’m green will no longer be my mantra come the next time you see me. Actually, it might.
I promise to post photos of my
diapers cool bathing suits and neat floppy hats upon return but until then, here are a few poses you should acquaint yourself with so that when I’m back, our bond will feel even closer. The Quintessential Blogger Pose.
Swinging bucket bag
, hidden face by hair, flinging arms et al.
The Running-Off-This-Terrace-Sionara-Mothafucka Pose. But it doesn’t include actual suicide so don’t get any crazy ideas again about me and psychiatrist “just chatting to chat,” mom.
The Yoga Pose. And you know this doesn’t work unless you’re wearing flare leg jeans and wedges. Serious bonus points for closed eyeballs.
The Man Repeller Pose. I see London, I see France, I see…yo’ass, girlfriend! And even so…not even a small part of me wants to sleep with you.
The other Man Repeller Pose. Because if you’re not going to give me bunny ears, someone else should. And I nominate myself.
And finally, The Pose that tricks you into thinking I’m human, not dancer.
I miss you already. My tear drops turn to cries and those cries turn to wails and the wails turn to…a reason to don harem pants! It’s a quick fix. Now, Happy Easter and Passover. Please wear neons, pastels, lots of organza and flatforms to keep the flame of my soul ignited this week.
Your Resident Drop Crotch