When in Brazil…

 There’s a story in the news today about a woman who is suing Victoria’s Secret because of a faulty thong.  I admit, stories like these are the equivalent of crack to me.  And yes, I realize they are the root of all evil and our society is going to burn in hell for all eternity because of them.  I just can’t help myself.

 Go ahead and light the kerosene.

So this 53 year old woman is suing because a decorative piece on a thong flew off and hit her in the eye.  I’m really torn on this one.  As the Queen of Klutz (QOK),  I generally understand how these things can happen.   I mean, it’s not easy to put a thong on through the armhole of your shirt in the drive-thru of taco bell…(and no, I don’t know if that’s what she was doing, I’m just saying…it’s not easy)  Let me add, if you actually stopped and thought about that,  1) you’re even more demented than I am and 2) it’s not possible.

That’s not to say I don’t have my own history with Victoria’s Secret.  I just haven’t had a jeweled SEXY lodged in my eye.

I used to live by the “feel pretty-look pretty” motto.  The basic premise being, if you wear pretty things underneath, you’ll feel like you look pretty to the outside world. 

Of course, that was before the packing tape incident.

Don’t be fooled.  Thigh highs might look sexy on an airbrushed photo of a brazilian supermodel, but there is nothing sexy about them.  Try wearing them for more than 10 minutes and you’ll understand.  Any longer and you may as well go ahead and accept the fact that you’ve become your 89-year-old grandmother.  The one whose ankle-bunched knee highs drive you absolutely insane.

And yes, I do know what a garter belt is.

And the brazilian supermodel wasn’t wearing one…which made perfect sense at the time.

That aside,  I no longer remember how I came think wearing thigh highs to work was a good idea, or even how long it took for them to start creeping toward my ankles, but I do remember my one moment of packing tape brilliance.  At least it seemed brilliant.   If pageant goers could be taped into their dresses, by God, I could be taped into my stockings!

Contrary to any thought you might have, packing tape, when ripped from the skin to remove a stocking, leaves nothing short of ring around the thigh…for approximately four weeks three days and two bottles of neosporin.  And you thought thigh highs were sexy…

So, to the lady with the thong-eye:  I’ve felt your pain.  And the good news is, I  lived through it without suing.

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