Because nipples exist.

I constantly write notes to myself about things I could possibly write about here. Sometimes I find them and I know exactly what I was thinking at the time. Other times...not so much. For instance, this note: "running around in my granny panties, sniffing James' armpits, impressing his family."

Now, I do actually own granny panties. I do think they're some of the funniest looking things ever and as such, I do find it necessary to run around in my underwear on occasion. Actually, not really running around in my underwear so much as dancing...awesomely. Dancing in my granny panties, which are bagging around my butt and hiked up to my boobs, makes me really, really happy. So that part makes sense.

I also do sniff James' armpits...a lot. Ok, but seriously, before you go judging and pointing fingers and calling me a creep or whatever, hear me out. He wears that Axe deodorant...which I'll admit, as a body spray, has a tendency to make the wearer smell like a guido-douchebag. However, as a deodorant...it's good stuff. It smells heavenly and I can either sneak into the bathroom and huff his deodorant like some desperate deodorant junkie or I can bury my face in his armpit every once in a while before I fall asleep. As most people know, I just say no to drugs so the armpit wins.

What either one of these two things has to do with impressing James' family, I do not know. Actually, I'm pretty sure if I show up at the next family gathering wearing only one of my ill fitting bras and granny panties, with my head shoved into James' armpit...I'd guess that the family would be less than impressed. Although...

I just found out this week that several members of James' family are now reading my blog (Everybody wave to my future family - hi future family!) At first I was like, "Oh, cool! It's like we're all bonding with each other via the internet. Neat!" Then I remembered that they were reading MY blog...in all of it's pug nippled, teatime love bite, vomit plate, vagina purse glory. So, you know, the impressing them moment has probably pretty much passed anyway...

(When I mentioned my concerns to James about his family reading my blog, he got all profound and Yoda on me: "Nipples exist, Jessica. Whether they like it or not, nipples exist." And you know... he's right. Sometimes he makes really good points. Not usually, though.)


P.S. I would just like to clarify that I love James' family dearly and they have always welcomed me with open arms and never once judged me, pointed at me or called me names. However, they are also Greek which means that he has no less than one million and twenty-seven aunts, uncles and cousins. The odds are against me that all of them are going to accept the chick with pug nipples and a vagina purse...and at some point that person and I are going to be each other's secret santa. When that moment comes...well...Guess who's getting a vagina purse for Christmas?