Of Shoes And Ships And Sealing Wax

From time to time I ask myself the important questions in life. For example, why is the dog in this picture pushing a baby carriage? Do I get enough fiber? How much NYC soot can I inhale before becoming the proverbial canary in a coalmine? And how does my mother get her kitchen floors to look so clean when she lives in the same dirty city as I?

Also, if I buy an elliptical cross trainer will it become just another place to hang dirty laundry? Or will it one day be considered modern art to be featured in a MOMA exhibit entitled Famous Authors And Their Slovenly Habits?

If I take a pole dancing class am I encouraging misogyny throughout the globe or just saving my jiggling bottom from uncertain doom? More importantly will my leg hold up or will my left knee cap pop off and roll between the legs of that unsuspecting receptionist? Also, how does the receptionist get her boobs to be so pert? Is it just the push up bra or has god awarded some lucky few the gift of gravity defying breasts? If she were in a plane crash for example would she be able to use those bosoms as a flotation device? Does god really means to have only the perkiest survive?

This might explain why every year I receive a post card in the mail offering me 20% off on an above ground burial crypt. Is that natural selection? A sort of “and the pert shall inherit the earth” philosophy? Will this be the year I write the cemetery back and tell them, Thanks for the discount, but I haven’t kicked it yet. Also, I like my boobs just the way they are thanks. 

Last summer in the mail I received an invitation to a conference called Dying IV. I’m sure you’re all wondering what happened to classes I – III. Apparently my own decomposition is already so advanced that the first three seminars were not necessary.

On the subject of things that arrive in the mail, yes, I understand that the purchase of just one goat could mean a Donald Trump worthy return-on-investment for a small village somewhere in the jungle. But when you send your catalog to a broke writer who lives in a studio apartment in Manhattan, and you ask her to drop 10K on something described as Noah’s Ark, aren’t you leaving yourself open for a certain amount of ridicule and disappointment?

You know, virtually every other week I receive a coupon in the mail for a pair of free Victoria Secret underwear. It’s probably my mother’s doing. I’m sure she doesn’t approve of the one’s I wear with the holes. Perhaps she made a phone call?  I’m fairly certain she can do that.

If only there was some place I could go to redeem my stack of expired Victoria Secret coupons, I’d much rather have an iPhone. I couldn’t wear it beneath my clothing of course. It might chafe. Then again if I put it on vibrate it might be a nice break in the day.

In conclusion, I believe I’ve proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I must never again write a blog post quickly while I’m this sleepy. You know a few of my relatives are kind enough to subscribe, and thanks to this post I may never again be able to look them in the eye at family gatherings. I hope you’re happy. Of course, any hope of a career in politics has probably gone out the window as well. I mean, I didn’t tweet George Clooney with a photo of myself wearing nothing but a sheepish grin and an iPhone, but still.

And that my friends, clearly explains why the dog is pushing that baby carriage…

About Madame Paradox

Heidi David is a writer and freelance producer. She is the author of an as yet unpublished novel, THE FLYING JEWEL; the tale of a traveling circus where the price of admission is one's free will.
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16 Responses to Of Shoes And Ships And Sealing Wax

  1. Ilana says:

    See? You can write a post that’s shorter than 2000 words!

    Also- I think apple should go into vibrating panties next. Yes. I just used the word panties. TWICE.

    You know what else? If the perkiest among us are going to inherit the earth, mothers at large are DOOMED.

    Thanks for the warning.

    • Yes, we’ll just ignore the small matter of it being incomprehensible. 😉
      You realize don’t you that Apple is listening in on this conversation and already has a team of experts working on the iPanty? Probably have a pair of iBoobs in the works as well.

  2. 1emeraldcity says:

    This is absolutely hilarious.! Perky boobs and tight arses seem to survive. The rest of us have a battle. Thanks for sharing this delicious humor.

  3. Peter Wilkin says:

    Vibrating gussets? Pert breasts? I imagine there’s a huge ambivalence attached to the latter: on the one hand you should never fall flat on your face … & yet you can never really sleep on your front.

    The interesting thing about this post, Heidi, is that ~ having read it ~ I actually do understand why the dog is pushing the pram. Ah! Just a minute, though ~ I think I understood before I read it!

    Well, if you can create such a convoluted posting and keep the reader interested & highly amused from the first sentence to the last then you have to be one helluva writer. Heidi David ~ you are one helluva writer! Absolutely loved meandering around your crazy cogitations. Brilliant!

    • There are so many words and phrases in here that are making me chuckle, from vibrating gusset, to pushing the pram, to crazy cogitations. Thank you mate for your kind words. I’m glad you understand my odd sense of humor.

  4. Oh, come on, Heidi.
    Don’t act like you’d be the only one at the family gatherings with a vibrating iPhone in your pants.
    I have at least half a dozen cousins who are guilty of much worse…
    …and they may or may not own a goat.

    p.s. I love the word panties.

    • I’ve read your comment three times and I’m still laughing. Make that four and….yup, still laughing. You put that red prom dress on one of your goats, and I’ll be as happy as a pig wearing a vibrating iPhone in its panties…

  5. Ann Mauren says:

    I have always believed that perkiness is a state of the mind as opposed to a state of the chest. So are holes in the underwear, for that matter. Oh, and thanks to you, my obsessiveness with statistics will plague me mercilessly until I can calculate the exact number of Victoria’s Secret panties it takes to equal the street value of an iPhone. And this is why I should never write comments this quickly while I’m this sleepy…
    Great post, Heidi! And totally worth not being able to look your relatives in the eye over, if I do say so myself! 🙂

    • And don’t you think I haven’t tried. But when you get down to how some offer 5 pairs of fruit themed panties for $24.99 and others offer a 10% discount on a rhinestone bra when you purchase a lifetime supply of bubble gum scented cologne, the physics involved in calculating those diagnostics are just overwhelming. Once again, I’m sleepy, and once again I have NO IDEA what I just wrote. Be that as it may. You is a funny funny lady. So glad you enjoyed my silliness.

  6. I beg to differ re: the sleepiness is bad for posting. This is one of my favorites yet. And the competition was stiff.

    Shoot. Upon typing the word “stiff,” I thought I experienced a eureka! moment in which I was going to tie a that’s-what-she-said joke to panties. Then it was just…gone. I bet this never happens to the pert-breasted. But I bet a lot of other things DO.

    (Look at me! It’s like I’m a budding erotica writer, on fire right here on your blog! Hi, Heidi’s family! AREN’T YOU GLAD HEIDI AND I ARE FRIENDS?)

    • Well who cares what they think, I am very glad we’re friends. I have been remiss with the responding. My apologies. But as always you manage to grab the bull by the horns…

      That’s what she said.


  7. : ) As always, thank you for the amusement.

  8. Heidi, you are something special. I think you should send your old undies to the cemetery with a note that says, “I have holy panties. I won’t need a crypt; I’m rapturing straight through!” Or, for that matter, just send the crypt invitation to the Victoria Secret headquarters. I bet they’d stop sending you things. This post made me laugh out loud. Well done, ma’am.

    • What a sweetheart you are. Thanks for this lovely message. It really made me feel good. I know when I make myself snicker, that there’s a good chance other will. But I wrote this so late at night, I might have snickered at a water glass at that point. Good to hear I can amuse even when I’m in a fugue state. Thanks for stopping by. 😉

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