Yes, everyone, I still have my boobs, I'm sure you were all terribly worried about that.

Thus ends the crazy sabbatical that I've taken from EBW.  I haven't been on this site in a super long time.  "Why?" I"m sure some of you crazy ones are asking... well, life took over.  I know, I'm positive you all missed me terribly (yeah, okay).

Side note:  I'm extremely medicated on cold medication right now, so I pretty much will have no recollection of writing this after about 20 minutes.

Seriously though...

Where did all of the old bloggers go?  I mean, granted, I've only seen about the first 5 most recent pages, but wow, MM is gonzo.

To the new faces/names... keep up the good stuff.

I'm sure I'll write something nonesensical again, so get ready.

Alright, so my wifi connection at my house isn't connecting to my laptop.  When I click "Connect to a Network", my network has a little message next to it that says... "The settings saved on this computer for the network do not match the requirements of the network."

I have an Inspiron, if that makes any difference.

Nerdy ebaumers, I am enlisting your help!

Currently, I am on my desktop, and this problem just started today.  I've tried creating a new network.  I'm wondering if maybe I need a new router?  I'm just at a loss, it's late-ish, so I can't go anywhere and see if I can mooch wifi from any public servers at the moment.

Any suggestions/solutions would be very much appreciated.  I was going to try Yahoo! Answers first, but it's not even opening on this computer.

I'll pretty much try anything short of throwing my laptop into a woodchipper.

So a few weeks ago I went up to State College to watch this amateur snowboarding competition with my friend Chris.  The event was.... well, uneventful.  Most of the competitors ate it, and the only highlight of that portion of the day was seeing a guy run into a pole.  With his crotch.

But anywho, after going inside to warm up and dim my highbeams, we decided to drive around the mountain... in my Saturn Ion, with front wheel drive.  This was not my greatest shining moment of good commen sense.  As we were driving up sunny side, there was no ice, so I thought we were pretty golden, until we reached the top of the hill, and the entire downhill side was covered in a thick sheet of ice.  For any (most) of you scalawags who've never been to Tussey, the entire road around is a one-lane tres windy road.  There was not a chance in hell that I was going to back down, so we buckled up and SLOWLY started driving down.

Chris kept chanting "Go slow, go slow" in his petrified manly voice, while my sister was in the backseat texting her boyfriend that we were going to die.  What a chump.  On the right side of the road, there was an uphill slope, so I was trying my damnedest to stay as close to that as vehicularly possible.  On the left side, oh joy, a 30 foot drop.  I had enough traction with a thin gravel strip under my left two tires.

About half-way down, I saw a Jeep 50 feet down facing uphill.  The passenger was directing the driver backwards.  The dude flashed his lights at me, to stop I'm assuming, so I halted and put my car in park and just sat there like a bum until he had backed the rest of the way down.  I started to panic when I realized that I had no more gravel up ahead, it was about 2 inches thick ice for 70 feet.  I said a little prayer to God, and Chuck Norris, and reluctantly started moving forward again.

It didn't take long for the car to lose all traction and start sliding forward, and I, like the idiot woman driver that I am, turned the wheel, and the back fishtailed and slammed into the right side, the UPHILL side.  My car was almost completely sideways.

The two dreamboats from the Jeep started coming up the hill to help us out as we were all getting out of the death-rig.  The boys tried smashing rocks against the ice, like the good little cave men they are.  That was incredibly unsuccessful, and the one remembered he had a rock hammer in his car, and started jogging back down to get it.

Chris came over to me and started turning the steering wheel, I guess to straighten it out, when suddenly the thing just starts sliding down the hill, with him holding onto it, slipping down with it.  He jumped in and shut the door, and the car just stopped about 30 feet from where it was.  He got it down the rest of the way, atleast to the point where there was no more ice, and we said goodbye to the dudes who helped us out, and drove back to the apartment.

WELL, I thought that would be all the car-related excitement we would have for that weekend, but I'm not that lucky.  I parked in the resident lot because the guest lot was full overnight.  When I woke up in the morning Chris kept looking out his blinds like a creepy peeping-Tom neighbour.

He asked me where I parked my car, and I said in the first spot along the side of the building, and, it was gone.  My car was missing.

After some hyperventilating, I shrieked "somebody stole my car!"  It was State Patrick's Day weekend, and I thought some drunken frat boy had swiped my baby.  Nope.  Some fucker from the building called a tow because I didn't have resident tags.  This happened right around midnight.  Who calls a tow on someone at midnight?  An asshole, that's who.

We called a few tow company's and I had to pay $105 bail to get Percy out of the lot.

Unrelated, I need a new job.  I sent out my very first resume ever yesterday.  Yay me.  Now I'm going to go take off my infernal bra, and take a nap.

Not suitable for children.

If any of you have ever been into a sex shop, you probably know what I'm talking about... they are freaking scary.

I was near my old highschool, getting ready to pick my sister up, and her friend, after school.  About 10 minutes down the road there is this sex shop.  I'm not telling you the name because that would most definitely give away my location, but anyway...

I decide it's about time to get a new vibrator.  I'd already gone through two that I acquired from my ex-boyfriend who bought them in the hopes of using them with me/breaking me out of my virginal shell.  Well, it made me pretty much horny all the time, but I'm still in my virginal shell.

Back to the point.  I need a new vibrator.  I'd been horny for weeks, and tried curing it the manual way, but girls like their electronics just as much as the boys do.

I drive down with about 45 minutes before my sister gets out of school.  I pull into the parking lot and sit in my car, hyperventilating about what exactly I will find when I get inside.  I take the walk up the little sidewalk to the door with blacked-out windows, and step inside.

First of all, it took me about a decade for my eyes to adjust because it was blackhold darkness in this place.  Negative light.  First thing I see is the fat balding old creepy clerk behind the register, eyeballing me up.  Then there's a dude looking at all the videos.  So it was me, a helpless little 19-year-old, and two creepers.

I scurry over to the corner where the sex-toys are and carefully examine each one, comparing prices and uses, all the while my cheeks turning red because I can feel the two lechers staring holes into my back.  I find a rabbit vibrator.  It's pink with spinning beads, and the tip swivels.  And then of course the rabbit ears.  I walk past Creepledee and take the box to Creppledum behind the register.

"That'll be $62.57," and then I could hear him thinking "take off your shirt, take off your shirt, take off your shirt."

I toss my debit card at him and wait another decade for the machine to process it.  It's approved, of course, and I snatch up the bag and make a hasty exit.

I get to my car and realize I still have to pick my sister up.  Where the fuck am I going to put this thing?  It won't fit in my purse.  It won't fit under my seat.  I can't stick it in the trunk because it's full of bags I was supposed to take to goodwill weeks ago.  So what do I do?  Set it beside me on the left side of my seat against the door.  Hopefully nobody will see the black bag it's in.

I pick my sister and her friend up from school, drop her friend off, then arrive home.

Immediately, I have to get upstairs to try the bad boy out.

Stay tuned for the story of how I broke it already.

Oh, and I changed my avatar again, yes, that is indeed me, I thought one where you can actually see my mug would work a little better.

As a member of the female community, this is a little hard to come to terms with.  But, working in lingerie, all the crazy psychos come out, and there is but only one conclusion I can draw from this.  All crazies are females.

I'm not talking your standard Gacy or Marshall Applewhite.  I mean the people who come in and shit in the fitting room or piss on the bras (SEE previous blogs)

Ladies, if you want me to bra fit you, make sure you don't smell like a combo dumpster/men's locker room.

Today, this crazy bitch comes in and wants me to pin her bra so she can take it to a seamstress to get it redone for a "custom" bra.  Lady... look... I hate to tell you this, but I hung you in effigy after you left.  The part that I hate to tell you is that it was not actually you I strung up by the paper throat.  We sell bras, just fucking buy one.

Bloggers/Readers, sorry this is so incoherently written, it's been a long day.

I'm Erin, and I'm frustrated because of crazy ladies, oh, and I've broken three vibrators now.

We all have them, the kinds of drivers that we hate.  Lord knows my list in practically infinite, but here are a few of the types that it takes all of my willpower not to drive them off a cliff.

1.  Tailgaters--Yes, we know, you have a small big dick, you stud, but there is no reason to try to see exactly what kinds of objects I keep hidden up my tailpipe.  The closer you get to my ass, the closer I get to slamming on the brakes, though I'm sure that would be pleasurable for both of us.

2.  Sunday Drivers-- Unless it's Sunday, (even then you're pushing it) you idiots should not be going 15mph under the speed limit.  Chances are, if you keep it up long enough, I will become the bitch No. 1 at the top of my list.  Watch it.

3.  TRUCK drivers-- I think all trucks (semis, oh) should have their own highways.  A good percentage of you drive like assholes and think you own the road because your driving more metal than we are.  Next time a truck cuts me off, almost running me into a guardrail (or off a bridge) I'm going to laser melts your tires.

4.  Texters/Readers/Eaters/Make-up Artists-- The only thing you should be doing while you're driving is, well, driving.  I saw somebody actually painting their fingernails as I passed her one day.  She was weaving from lane to lane.  If you don't have time to do it at home, don't do it.

5.  Out-of-Liners--Driving is like coloring:  Stay within the lines.  If you can't, get off the fucking road.

I know there are more, I'm way too tired to think of any, even though it's only 10pm.

P.S., that is me in my new avatar, be sure to rip me to shreds, you know it turns me on.  Even though you can't really see my face.  Eh, it's all you'd see anyway when I'm at waist level.

P.P.S, NUMB3RS is on, go watch it.

Yesterday at work, this woman comes in looking for some bras.  I told her it looked like she was wearing the wrong size and asked if she would mind if I measured her (She had muffin boob).  She kind of gave me that "bitch, you best be backing up" look (in full ghetto speak) but let me fit her anyway.  Well, this psycho didn't like that her band size was two sizes higher than the bra she was wearing, so she told me I must be retarded and proceeded to try on bras in her "current size."

The bitch then got angry with ME that the bras that I told her were the wrong size weren't fitting.  Whatever, crazy lady.

"Ma'am, bras do tend to stretch out in the band, yadda yadda yadda."

She wasn't having any of it and threw them at me, then went around the store knocking stuff over like a 5-year-old having a temper tantrum/seizure.

She came in with this skinny little white guy, and this rhinocerous black dude.  Well, she said something to him, and the little honky came over and asked me about stupid random stuff, which I'm now assuming was to distract me(I was the only person on the sales floor, my lesbian manager was in the back probably texting her girlfriend).

The huge black guy walked over to the one corner of the store, apparantly pulled his pants down, and pissed all over probably 15 bras, and quite a few panties that were hanging beneath them as well.  I didn't find out until I went to clean up all the stuff she had thrown everywhere when I saw a yellow puddle on the floor, getting larger as it dripped off of the bras.  I don't know what would possibly possess them to all do this.

What the fuck is up with crazy people these days?

So I would have written and posted this earlier, but I've pretty much been on my deathbed.� Stupid stomach flu.

My family and I have this banter-make-fun-of-each-other relationship.� We all hate/love eachother, and put in a jibe as often as possible.� "Atleast I'm not balding."� "My boobs aren't taking over the world." etc.

My one cousin, K, decided that she would try to set up my other cousin, Col, on a date with her friend.� So Col, who's 15, and his blind bimbo date went to see the new James Bond movie.� Apparantly, the little chicky looked much younger than Col thought.� She maybe looked like she was 11, according to the little Casanova.

At this point, my dad decided that he would get his jibe in, and dubbed Col "Chester the Molester" for the remainder of the holiday.� Good ol' Chester wasn't too terribly happy about this.

Black Friday, after I was done working at noon, I met up with them for Brunch at this little diner.� My dad was telling my uncle, Chester's dad, about the night before, so then Uncle J thought he'd�prod his son in the ribs and screamed across the restaurant (because the diner set-up wasn't a big table, we were all spread out) "Well, I guess Colly goes by 'If she's old enough to pee, she's good enough for me.'"

I love my family.

Pointless story, yes.� It's probably one of those "you had to be there" moments, but I found it funny, and thought I'd share it with the Ebaumers' community.

I'm still too sick to think straight, so this very well may not be funny at all.

I've dated a lot of guys in my lifetime.  And I'm only 19.  The thing I find funny is I don't really have a pattern for what kind of guys I've gone for in the past, just that they all end up being losers, assholes, or complete wastes of time.  Mind you, I've never had sex with any of them.  Not one.  How did I manage this?  Well, you see, I'm a woman.  We tend to be tricky, sneaky, and downright magical.  Maybe it was voodoo, maybe I'm just a tease, who's to say, really?  But anyway, this is kind of a list of the different types of guys I've left in the dust.  I don't know why I'm really telling any of you fine ebaumers, but hell, why not?  These are all complete truth.

The Faux Scotsman

This little lovely actually talked in a Scottish accent in public.  He felt it made him interesting.  He even wore a kilt on occasion.  He liked Christian screamo music.  How you mix the two, I'll never know.  He played guitar, and "dabbled" on the piano.  He always thought he was such a ladies' man, but really, not so much.  He was actually quite rude, and got kneed in the balls at a concert with me one time for calling this chick "the good kind of ugly."

The Depressed Poet

This dude, well, the title kind of says enough.  He was always trying to find himself in whatever life would hand him.  He wrote a lot of poetry, all this deep, dark, morbid end-of-the-world type stuff.  He played guitar.  (Speaking of which, I do have a pattern:  Musicians)  He also had a penchant for screamo-hardcore music.  He always thought he was so original, but he was about as scene as it gets.

The Whiner/Gamer

Oh boy, he was a real joy.  He never stopped whining.  He was so OVERprotective, he always thought that I was cheating on him, he didn't even want me to hang out with my guy friends.  However, he had a fetish about me being gang-banged by about 10 guys at once.  I'll never understand him.  I never want to.  He'd play Halo non-stop, and would say that I never wanted to do anything with him, when he'd break plans with me to play his obsession.  He was a little weirdo.  I dropped him like a hot potato when he decided he didn't want me hanging out with my friends anymore.  Sisters before misters, buddy.

The Bull Rider

Yes, he actually rode bulls for a living.  He was pretty good, too, until he fell and screwed up his back.  Played guitar as well.  I think my problem with him was mostly two things.  He was just NOT an intelligent person (or it could have just been the southern drawl).  And he never appreciated me taking care of him while he was in a back-brace. 

The Graffiti Artist/DJ

He Djed, obviously, and moonlighted (literally) as a hoodlum.  He liked to vandalize just about every brick building he could find.  He was creative with it, I suppose. 

The Army Boy/Ex Con

After basic training he was shipped to Iraq.  On leave, he decided to be a greedy little bastard and was arrested for B&E of three different houses on the same night.  I can't even wrap my head around this guy.  I'm sure he got a dishonorable discharge, I haven't really asked him about it, though I haven't talked to him in a while.  (arrest happened AFTER we dated)

The Skater/Doobie Boy

This guy loved to skate.  He'd skate just about everywhere.  In it for the love of it, I guess.  Not so much into tricks, just as a mode of transportation and fun.  Guitar and saxaphone player.  He also had a love of marijuana.  I don't mind if you do it, just don't decide to whip out a joint in my car and start smoking it, right as we drive past the municipal police station.  Or for that matter, don't do it around me in general, I don't want to smell like a burning field in any country of South America.

The Skater/Artist

He has a plethora of tattoos and piercings.  Paints, draws, writes music/plays guitar, piano/sings, etc.  He was always a goofball.  He loves to skate as well.  Makes up his own tricks, skates everywhere he goes.  Makes fun of life a lot, and doesn't take too much seriously.  He didn't like my friends though, he thought they were turning me against him.  He was really paranoid about a lot of things actually.

The Theatre Kid

What a charmer.  Actors really do know how to bullshit you, I must say.  I am fully aware of this after being around them for years, acting alongside them.  He was a sweet talker, and would say just what he thought I wanted to hear.  I knew he was lying through his teeth most of the time, but he was a fun dude to hang out with.  Always had great stories, tales, experiences to share with the crowd.  Anytime he had an audience, he was in heaven.  Especially when he groped me and shoved his tongue down my throat in front of some of my family members after a show.  He really was a terrible kisser.

The German

He was actually a complete sweetheart, I don't have anything bad to say about him really.  He taught me how to waltz during rehearsal for a play we were both in once.  He also put me up after I passed out during a blood-drive.  He was a complete gentleman, and man did I love that accent.  The thing that ended it was that he moved back to Germany. =(  He is the only exception to my loser chain.

For the most part, I really know how to pick them, eh?  I mean, seriously, is it too much to ask for a guy version of me?  lol.  I'd like a guy who's intelligent, can atleast tolerate musicals/plays/Disney, LOVES dogs, is musical, of course, we need to keep up with the pattern... cynical/sarcastic sense of humor, likes James Bond movies, and who can handle my stubbornness.  Other criteria as well, I'm just too tired to think of any =P  I might as well try to cook one up, it's been looking pretty bleak so far.

--------------------------------------------

OK, I'm changing the criteria a few hours later, because I don't know what the hell kind of stuff I was thinking last night.  I really need to sleep more.  In fact, I'll take a nap after this.  As far as musicals, it's more of the guy tolerating me liking them, I could care less if you come with me to see Sweeney Todd, Biloxi Blues, The Mikado, etc.  Just as long as you don't piss and moan and tell me I'm stupid for liking it.  Dogs are still a must, and don't let the picture of my dog fool you, he's not some high maintenance little cream puff, he's a killer.  I do have a golden retriever as well.  Sense of humor in general would be nice.  Can banter with me, and be competitive.  Intelligence is a must.  I am quite an intelligent person, I just have a complete lack of common sense thus so far, so a voice of reason would be lovely.  I'm still too tired, so that will be all.

So, today at work this customer came in and wanted to get measured for a bra.  Her son kept running around pushing his stroller and I lost sight of him at one point, which in retrospect was a bad thing, but I'm not his keeper.  So anyway, I'm walking over to the other side of the store to measure this broad, and I look down, and there's a puddle on the floor.  A yellow puddle.  With little drops leading to her son, who's hiding under one of the tables.  And his pants are soaked.  The little guy pissed himself.  Granted, he didn't look like he was older than 3, or maybe a small 4, but still, he just pees in the middle of the floor.  And I almost stepped in his yellow snow.... without the snow.  So me being one of the newbie's (I've only been working since June) was elected to clean up the puddle on the floor.

Oh boy, I can't tell you how much fun that was.  I just threw some paper towels down, picked them up with the mop and wet swiffered, but it was still gross.

While the woman was then trying bras on in the fitting room, I asked my manager if this kind of thing happens often, and she said yes, but it's not the worst that's happened before.  I just HAD to ask what was the worst thing.  Big mistake.

Apparantly about a month ago, when I was on vacation (thank God) a woman took some clothing into one of the fitting rooms to try on, and decided she was going to shit in the fitting room.  I know this may sound a bit like Dane Cook's "shit on the coats" routine, but I kid you not, some lady actually shat in the fitting room, on the bench.  The cherry was that she used one of our bras as toilet paper.  Seriously, lady, are you fucking insane?  We HAVE a bathroom.  To make matters even worse, she then proceeded to try on the clothing, and got shit on all of that.  There were little poo-stains on every piece of clothing/lingerie this woman tried on.

I'm so glad I was in Maine that day.

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Hello there

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Erin says:

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

, How about Imake you happy

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Erin says:

do not put words in my mouth, or assume what i'm thinking

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

Maybe I should go now?

Erin says:

Erin says:

because right after that you said i seemed cautious

Jerry -Fans Association Star Trek says:

CHICAGO - Bernie Mac, the actor and comedian who teamed up in the casino heist caper "Ocean's Eleven" and gained a prestigious Peabody Award for his sitcom "The Bernie Mac Show," died Saturday at age 50.

"Actor/comedian Bernie Mac passed away this morning from complications due to pneumonia in a Chicago area hospital," his publicist, Danica Smith, said in a statement from Los Angeles.

The comedian suffered from sarcoidosis, an inflammatory lung disease that produces tiny lumps of cells in the body's organs, but had said the condition went into remission in 2005. He recently was hospitalized and treated for pneumonia, which his publicist said was not related to the disease.

Recently, Mac's brand of comedy caught him flack when he was heckled during a surprise appearance at a July fundraiser for Democratic presidential candidate and fellow Chicagoan Barack Obama.

Toward the end of a 10-minute standup routine, Mac joked about menopause, sexual infidelity and promiscuity, and used occasional crude language. The performance earned him a rebuke from Obama's campaign.

But despite controversy or difficulties, in his words, Mac was always a performer.

"Wherever I am, I have to play," he said in 2002. "I have to put on a good show."

Mac worked his way to Hollywood success from an impoverished upbringing on Chicago's South Side. He began doing standup as a child, and his film career started with a small role as a club doorman in the Damon Wayans comedy "Mo' Money" in 1992. In 1996, he appeared in the Spike Lee drama "Get on the Bus."

He was one of "The Original Kings of Comedy" in the 2000 documentary of that title that brought a new generation of black standup comedy stars to a wider audience.

"The majority of his core fan base will remember that when they paid their money to see Bernie Mac ... he gave them their money's worth," Steve Harvey, one of his co-stars in "Original Kings," told CNN on Saturday.

Mac went on to star in the hugely popular "Ocean's Eleven" franchise with Brad Pitt and George Clooney.

Comedian Carl Reiner, who also appeared in "Ocean's Eleven" and its two sequels, said Saturday he was "in utter shock" because he thought Mac was improving. "He was just so alive. I can't believe he's gone," he said.

Reiner told KNX-AM in Los Angeles that other comics had talked to the audience as Mac did on "The Bernie Mac Show," but "he took it to a new level."

"It was such a popular show because of his bigger-than-life persona," Reiner said.

His turn with Ashton Kutcher in 2005's "Guess Who" topped the box office. It was a comedy remake of the classic Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn drama "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?" — with Mac as the black dad who's shocked that his daughter is marrying a white man.

Mac also had starring roles in "Bad Santa," "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle" and "Transformers."

The comedian drew critical and popular acclaim with his Fox television series "The Bernie Mac Show," which aired more than 100 episodes from 2001 to 2006.

The series about a man's adventures raising his sister's three children, won a Peabody Award in 2002. At the time, judges wrote they chose the sitcom for transcending "race and class while lifting viewers with laughter, compassion — and cool."

In real life, he was very much like his character on that series, his daughter, Je'niece Childress, told The Associated Press on Saturday.

"He was the king of his household," Childress said in Chicago, describing Mac as "a loving grandfather" to her daughter, his only grandchild.

"The Bernie Mac Show" garnered Golden Globe and Emmy nominations for Mac.

"But television handcuffs you, man," he said in a 2001 Associated Press interview. "Now everyone telling me what I CAN'T do, what I CAN say, what I SHOULD do, and asking, `Are blacks gonna be mad at you? Are whites gonna accept you?'"

He also was nominated for a Grammy award for best comedy album in 2001 along with his "The Original Kings of Comedy" co-stars, Harvey, D.L. Hughley and Cedric The Entertainer.

Chicago music producer Carolyn Albritton said she was Bernie Mac's first manager, having met him in 1991 at Chicago's Cotton Club where she hosted an open-mike night.

"From very early on I thought he was destined for success," Albritton said Saturday. "He never lost track of where he came from, and he'd often use real life experiences, his family, his friends, in his routine. After he made it, he stayed a very humble man. His family was the most important thing in the world to him."

In 2007, Mac told David Letterman on CBS' "Late Show" that he planned to retire soon.

"I'm going to still do my producing, my films, but I want to enjoy my life a little bit," Mac told Letterman. "I missed a lot of things, you know. I was a street performer for two years. I went into clubs in 1977."

Mac was born Bernard Jeffrey McCullough on Oct. 5, 1957, in Chicago. He grew up on the city's South Side, living with his mother and grandparents. His grandfather was the deacon of a Baptist church.

In his 2004 memoir, "Maybe You Never Cry Again," Mac wrote about having a poor childhood — eating bologna for dinner — and a strict, no-nonsense upbringing.

"I came from a place where there wasn't a lot of joy," Mac told the AP in 2001. "I decided to try to make other people laugh when there wasn't a lot of things to laugh about."

Mac's mother died of cancer when he was 16. In his book, Mac said she was a support for him and told him he would surprise everyone when he grew up.

"Woman believed in me," he wrote. "She believed in me long before I believed."

Ok, I realize that it was my own content, but why the fuck would they feature my blog about breast reduction?  I think someone who works at ebaums probably spanked to it and thought that it should be mass spanking material.  Either that, or they wanted to see what kind of comments it would get.

Seriously, why?

Alright, I work in retail:  clothing and lingerie.  I was complaining to my one friend who works with me that I keep popping out of my bras, so I wanted her to measure me to see if I needed a different size.  Let's just say, yes, I did.  Where I thought that I was a D, turns out I'm between a DD and DDD.  I wanted to shoot my boobs off at that point.

Anywho, on a completely related but seemingly random topic, would it be wise to get a breast reduction?  I practically whack myself in the face if I need to run, lol.  If so, I'd probably only go down to a C to D.

So, like the great person that I am, I watch some of the Yahoo! News videos/read the articles.  A video that I watched a little bit ago was about this bait & switch scam with gas prices.  Apparantly, the stations (not all, but quite a few around the country) mark the prices that you would need to pay using CASH.  If you intend on paying with a credit card, then, since there is a fee that is charged to the station for the transaction, many have decided to raise CREDIT CARD PURCHASED gas prices from about $.08 to $.50 PER GALLON.  Another reason they have the CASH prices lower is because it forces people to go inside to pay, and many will then purchase other things (drinks, food, dirty magazines, etc.)  Personally, I think this is ridiculous, and I though I'd share this stupidity with the Ebaums community, since I love you all so much.

Any thoughts/opinions as well?