This App Is Already On My Phone.

I Swear I Don't Look for the Crazy. IT FINDS ME. Or: how the informal nature of social media has killed one's sense of propriety.

Wowza. Someone turned the dial all the way up to crazy last night. So... this story has hella long backstory, but it's worth it.

Anyway. I'm on the Twitter. I also like to eat lunch. So if you use key words in your Tweets (boobs wang penisy), people can find you and follow you. So there's a certain restaurant that started following me. It sounded good, so I went to get food from there. I had a little trouble finding the place, had to pass by a homeless dude masturbating TWICE to get there, but fuck it all, I was determined.

I got there, the guy behind the counter gave me a free cookie and a wink. My, how flattering!

Got back to the office, tweeted the Homeless Diddler story and Thanks for the Cookie to said restaurant.

Suddenly, I had a new follower! It's the cashier. Hey, no problem. Seemed nice. Seems nice in DM's (that's Direct Messages, for the Twitter uninitiated). We flirt via DM for a day or two over the weekend, because that's what the kids do nowadays.

Last night, the Twitter is all up in arms about how hot it is. Said restaurant is very excited about the heat. I am not, and decide to tell them so, which starts the DM frenzy with cashier guy again. The following is cut and pasted from my DM feed. Names and avatars have been deleted using my mad photo editing skillz to protect the pervy.

***BIRV YOGA BREAK***

Tick Tick

Tick tick tick

Tick Tick Tick Tick

BOOM

So. YEAH. I have a kitty in my pants and baby talk and free food is all it takes to get to see it. Meow.

I recognize that I could have ended the conversation sooner, and that this is what some may view as an utterly misguided attempt at flirtation (REALLY, though??). Here's the thing. You've probably read some of my previous posts, and most likely, you know me personally. I'm a robustly foul-mouthed girl, and I have ZERO problem with dirty talk, texts, photos multimedia, smoke signals blahhhhh potato. However, I usually like that sort of messaging to happen some time after the "So, do you like dogs?" level of conversation.  Or when our actual real life interaction is something more than me giving you my lunch order. 

Questions, yeah sure. I'll answer questions. I wear panties. I've had sex before. However, I can't remember what your face looks like. Let's not start dog-earing pages of the Kama Sutra just yet. 

PS, when you intimate that you're predicating our dating success on the answer I give to how many times I'll fuck you during a week, I lose faith in men as a species and crawl into bed and imagine that Neil Patrick Harris is straight and wouldn't ask me how wet my pussy gets before asking my last name.

Awesomely, as I've been cobbling this post together, "My Heart Will Go On" has been playing on the radio. Sheer fucking poetry, I tell you.

It's Gotta Be Like Sitting On Tennis Balls

Because my ass just isn't big enough... I think that it is time to add some fake cushion for the pushin'. Introducing the BOOTYPOP, ladies. And gents, if you feel you need to fill out the back end of your jeans a little better.



No booty-ness has never been a problem for me. I have ass to spare, no matter how many lunges I do/3rd story apartments with no elevators I move into. But (hehe) are the POPS sitting on the top of your cheeks? Is that where you need more butt? On me I'm pretty sure it would just look like I was smuggling cereal bowls.

Gotta say, if you have no booty, I can see the market for these. Here's Birv's Better Idea... make the POPS a place to store things- keys... ID... spare pair of panties for when you get to the home of the gentleman you're trying to woo with your POPPING ass. Speaking of butt-minded men... who snickered at the creepy leering man at the coffee shop in the ad? I did! At least, in my mind, it was a pervert in public, and not a husband disinterested in his flat-assed wife. Disinterested until she added 5 lbs on her rump and nowhere else, that is!! HOTT.

What do these feel like if the creeper grabs them, anyway? I mean, if you're slow dancing (people still do that, right?), and that certain someone wants to pull you in a little closer... what happens?

I love that it's endorsed by Martha Stewart. Never knew she cared about the roundedness of my rump.

CatFish, you and your adorable web-browsing sidekick have made me love again. Hooray blog!! Blogging, hooray!

But Should I Wear Them to Opening Night?

Today's questionable product is actually a CRAFT more than a product, as they aren't for sale... Golden Snitch pasties (from the world of Harry Potter)!

Could anything be more appropriate for a midnight premiere? I THINK NOT!!

Check them out on Craftster, though sadly, inexplicably, there isn't a How-To on this HOW TO website.

But... Then Where Would I Keep My Remote?

Do you have huge knockers? Whether you got them from nature or from Dr. Feelgood, it doesn't matter, those of us with enormous melons can all be helped by today's questionable product, the Kush Support, designed to keep you from getting wrinkly cleavage. From the website:

"After comprehensive research and testing, Kush was developed as an anatomically contoured accessory offering both health and beauty benefits. Made from a lightweight plastic with a slip-resistant outer coating, Kush is uniquely designed to fit between the breasts to maintain a more natural shape while resting on your side. No straps, no underwires, no constraints, no adhesives and no garments needed - the slip-resistant surface and contoured shape help keep Kush in place as a woman rolls from one side to the other during sleep."

It's a little steep at $55, when I could just as easily shove a can of creamed corn in between the girls... but if the professionals at the best little whorehouse in Texas use them, I guess I probably should too! Seriously- what's with her pajamas? Does anyone actually sleep in things like that?

Product Site here!

Today's Questionable Product

I really don't mean to examine the world of products developed for "down there" on a daily basis here on Fonzipan, but I couldn't bypass the Cuchini, the product developed due to the mass conversion to the Brazilian. As the website states, there "ain't no bush for the cush". I have to tell you, I never made the connection myself. Clearly, I have not been using my time wisely.

As if we needed more things to worry about... now we need to stick a cup in our panties? When do we say "enough is enough"? Do guys have such questionable products? Now I have to investigate.

Product site here.

PS- don't ask me about the arrow in this picture... I just got it off the website. Maybe it's an "I'm with stupid" arrow for the purchaser?

There's Such a Thing as Going TOO Green.

Yeah... that's exactly what you think it is. Some looney toon at etsy.com (a site I normally adore, think stylish craft ebay) set up her own shop called Randumosity in order to foist upon the world her idea of green living:

Etsy Eco-Tip: "Reuse, Reduce and Recycle"Using cloth menstrual pads will lessen your contribution to the landfill!
Added on May 4, 2009

Honestly? I know, I know...fact of life and all that, but the earth-burning Westerner in me begs you to consider the logistics: who wants this thing hanging around their drawer? Is flannel really that... absorbent? I think the thing that makes these so objectionable is the gaggingly cutesy "femininity" with which she chose the designs.

Here are some of the more disturbing fabric choices this ghastly woman made:

Just what we all love being referred to... especially during that special time.

I'm all for retro, but in this situation, Care Bears seem completely inappropriate.

This brings a new meaning to "Ants in your pants". I suspect this was made without a shred of irony.

Miss USA: Spreading Right-Wing Messages of Hate Since 1952

There's nothing like using a forum for public entertainment to spread your message of intolerance. Little girls everywhere learned yet another reason why pageants are instruments of evil last night when Miss California emphatically described how marriage is defined in her family and, apparently, HER country. Guess we know ONE family who voted for Prop 8.

Careful honey- you just got a hit put out on you by the Velvet Mafia. Bad idea for a beauty queen.

Taking the Metaphors Too Far: Questionable Razor Ads

Ummm...

Sanctuary!!!!!!!

I'm convinced this is what I look like today: Quasibloato, Queen of the Monthlies.





Thanks to Adam for helping me come up with the name Quasibloato, and thusly confirming that I am hideous balloon of gross.

Trials and Tribulations of Being a Woman.

For all the men that want to know why women go to the bathroom in pairs: please review the above flowchart. One needs a wingman in there- talking to someone in line, holding the door closed, getting toilet paper... holding the purse.