Boobs That Speak............... by Diane Ogden

Okay so don't you think the boobs on this page are speaking.  They are Madonna type boobs.  And O M G look at those girdles.  God said to gird up your loins and some designer totally misunderstood.  Not sure what the good book says about boobs...  oh yeah..in Solomon:

3 Your breasts are like two fawns, twins of a gazelle. 4 Your neck is like an ivory tower. Your eyes are the pools of Heshbon by the gate of Bath Rabbim. Your nose is like the tower of Lebanon looking toward Damascus. 5 Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your hair is like royal tapestry; the king is held captive by its tresses. 6 How beautiful you are and how pleasing, O love, with your delights! 7 Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit. 8 I said, "I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit." May your breasts be like the clusters of the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples

 

Well let me say those breasts inside that armor do not appear like fawns, or twins of a gazelle, of clusters of the vine.  Ya think?  I wore a bra similar to that in high school and I wore a girdle, but it had separate leg openings. In fact wore it to Prom where it was probably removed sometime after midnight.  Or am I lying?  I cant imagine getting that thing off anyhow or way.  Looks like, and if I remember correctly it was like putting your hand into a finger cot.  Or like trying to put your car in the dryer...for lack of a better "splainatory." You could get one leg in and then forget getting the other one in.  It had to be two at a time, and then pull up with all your might.  I know that is what caused my back issues. LOL.    

 

And check out the price.  $7.50.  Why I cant buy a pound of organic meat for that price.   Or a pair of good socks.  Or good chocolate and on and on. 

Who ever came up with such nonsense for us women.  Who?

Who said it was okay to truss up like a work horse.  A good bra

(brassier) is one thing, but bullet shooters an all together a diff-

erent deal.  I am surprised Christian Grey didn't use these girdle's and brassier's on Anastasia Steele

in 50 Shades of Grey.  That is how I view them.  Like painful equipment before sex.  Yup......just like Prom for millions of girls back in the 50's. 

 

I was searching for some photo's from the 40's (I wasn't born then) Liar Liar pants on fire)

Okay so it was the LATE 40's, and I ran across these two pictures I knew I would have to save for some sort of a blogpost.  And here it is. 

 

At least the latest in girdles are not painful.  They are called SPANX...  hum, back to the 50 Shades of Grey again!   I seem to have hit on something. 

Notice the caption under the photo below:  "YOURS FOR A GLORIFIED LIFETIME.  L O L  And then under that line it says:  ....with LIFE'S magic fit, all the way.   I am laughing myself silly at how they put these words together. Key words just like on the internet now in 2013!  MAGIC, ALL THE WAY, (back in the 50's when a person heard "all the way" it meant sex.  Hey, did you guys "go all the way?"  It mean intercourse.  No, really, that is the truth.  Cross my heart.  Funny me, that's the name of a brassier.  Wait, its Cross Your Heart.  More key words tuned for bigger sales. How about one called, Cross Your Fawns?  I better not be making funnies about the Bible.  Erase Erase

 

Til next time, be well, be safe, be happy, and get rich so you can buy Spanx.  They don't hurt. 

Later's

Near Death Experience..................by Diane Ogden

Richard and I had been divorced for many years but had remained friends.  I had asked him to keep his eye out for our son a new vehicle which  we had been conversing over for some time.  This day Richard called me and asked me if I had time to go view a truck he found for Adam.  I said, "Sure."
And so I readied myself and met him at the park n car ride by the Interstate.  We headed out in his vehicle which was a large Ford F250.  Something a person feels quite safe in considering the size not to mention to a woman it sounds like a jet engine when it accelerates.
We had pleasant conversation about nothing for about an hour.  We reached the designated city where the truck was to be test driven which we did.  Richard found the truck to be less than what he expected.  It had some major problems so back in the jet engine F250 and we headed home.
Richards phone rang just as we were exiting the Interstate and merging onto a major highway that surrounds our home city, population approximately 300,000 making it a busier thoroughfare than the Interstate.  After glancing over at him a few times I noticed his facial expression to be way out of the normal range.  I quietly asked him if everything was alright.  He did not respond in any way. He just held on to that phone as though someone informed him of a death in the family.  It was almost like he wasn't there.  And in fact I don't think he was.  That is when he let go of the steering wheel and was holding the phone with both hands.  Why?  What was going on?  I took the wheel with my left hand to steady the jet truck and maintain the right lane.  I said, "Richard." In a pleading voice.  No response.  That is when the jet truck started taking  on speed.   I said loudly, "Richard!"  Nothing. No response. I didn't have time to look at him to see if he was dead or what.

I suspected in my mind and heart he had decided to take us both out together in some magnificent display or need for attention CRASH suicide. The problem was this could kill others also. But to tell you the truth my mind wasn't thinking anything rational at that moment.  We were now accelerated to over one hundred miles an hour and I was driving this jet from the right side of the steering wheel while screaming for Richard to please help me.  To take his foot off the pedal.  To wake up. All I recall during this part of my near death experience is total and unexplainable FEAR as the truck wavered over yellow lines and back again .........I knew it was over. Would I be ejected as I had unbuckled my seat belt to be able to reach the steering wheel.

 I felt every pound of that two or three ton truck sway against the very air that sustained my life but was about to also take it away forever.
Every cell in my body was frozen in a million tight knots as were all my blood vessels and muscles and tendons.  I was about to die and holding on to life by a thread as we were up to 120 mph.
Then something told my totally frazzled brain to turn the key off and I did. I am not sure how I did that.  And............ 
that was after I woke up and decided that dream was straight out of hell and I needed to finish it so I could move from the hideous state of fear I was presently in.  No way could I have even made it to the bathroom!  I finished the dream by changing the fact that Richard was going to take us both out in some fireball of double suicide along with others.  That he had had a seizure and was unconscious with his foot stiffened on the accelerator.  So I turned the key (fear) off and the jet truck slowly and without power steering came to a stop in the middle lane of the major highway.  I then dialed 911 but to my surprise there were already three or four squads out of nowhere all around me.

Others had called about a runaway jet truck on Highway 215 East. Richard was taken by ambulance to a local hospital and survived never to invite me on any little trips to anywhere. (He knew I would never get into that jet truck again!)   Me, I was able to get out of that bad dream, stand up, breath, and get to the rest room in time. 

Until then, be SAFE, be well, be happy, and getting rich wont stop the bad dreams.  Or will it?
Later's......Those dreams just wear me out!

Vintage Day..............by Diane Ogden

Today was a day of rest.  I have made it clear that the dust may live on here a bit longer.  I also told the dishes they may remain on the counter until tomorrow evening as there are enough glasses until then, although I am out of clean small spoons.  I informed the laundry it would have to deal with its own many different life odors one or three more days. I bought extra under's so I have time.

No, today was a do nothing day.  I checked my emails, my facebook, posted a photo on my friends blog, called my hairdresser who said he was working today and come on over.  Got the gray gone, some brown and blonde in!  And he blew it out straight.  Humm, not so sure about that.

Stopped at a little thrift shop and found a wicker clothes basket for $5.99, like new.  Stopped at the store for kitty milk for Bob the cat's fat tummy, and then to the Pink Poodle resale shop where I found the coolest shabby iron window planter.

  And a wicker elephant to match the chair I found in the garbage at the adjacent condo's.  A $500 chair in the garbage!  I still cannot find pillows to fit that thang under $169.00.  Do notice someone got stupid and put gold glitter under Mr. L.E. Phant and blue glitter on his eyes, and pink somewhere, I forgot.  People are going to think I did that.  doi.  I can sponge a tan color over the glitter, long as it doesn't rain too much.

 I also found a huge silk fern.  Love those huge silk ferns that require no water and leave no droppings anywhere.  All in all it was a good day for treasure hunting and a new doo.

  Not very interesting huh?  Would be if you found good stuff on a nice sunny Sunday. Oh and I am working diligently on my novel.  Reading it into my fancy phone and then listening to it so to catch errors.  I went back to my PDF version and tried to correct .....NOTSOMUCH!   I called my son in Los Angeles and asked him why I couldn't correct my book that we put on PDF?  He said, "Oh-oh... I hope you have the raw copy Ma.  Nope don't think so kiddo.  Guess I have to re type that whole book again.  Oh well, I am determined to get it done and published. 
So be well, be happy, be safe, and get rich so you can hire people to retype the book, correct the grammar, and publish it.  Laters

BAM, YOUR DEAD Part II............by Diane Ogden

Bam your dead, and you left some good "stuff" behind, AND your children were of the upper es-cha-launce of brain activity and went thru every piece of your property. I think they call that class. And they kept much of it or found good places for "it" being the treasures of their Mother!

I walked into a clients home the day after I wrote the Bam...Your DEAD Part I, and was shocked at what I saw.  I saw a restoration of my faith in the "Afterlife of the dead mothers brochure."  Crass huh?  Where did all that class go I was talking about.  Where is the upper es-cha-launce of my brain activity?  I'll  tell you where...   it rose up like Jesus on the third day.  I was like a kid at a cupcake party when I started looking thru all those beautiful dresses, hats, purses, fur boa's and fur hand warmer, purple leather jacket and....jewelry too.  The dresses may not fit anyone, but they were amazing Gatzby dresses.  And she passed away last year for God sakes.  No kids ran to her home and stuffed it all in big BLACK dead garbage bags and drove it to a strange drop off.  Mother's life was dropped off.   Well not the Mother I saw thru photos and belongings.  Why I felt like I knew her.  Like she lived on even thru a stranger like myself.  I offered her property good energy and she in turn did like for me.  It was a good day after the Bam You Dead Part I!  Timing is everything they say and that is what I would consider "Perfect Timing."
Be well, Be safe, Be Happy, and don't die,  Unless your kids have class and upper es-cha-launce of the brain.  Obviously I cannot spell that so sound it out.  And that does not mean I am not smart.  I am.
Later's  And Good Nite......Darlings!                                

 

photos from www.facebook.com/AtticofTreasures2007

Bam!.........YOUR DEAD!.......................by Diane Ogden

Have you ever "wondered" what would happen to your home and your belongings when you DIE?
Some people would say, "Who cares, it's just stuff."  Others might feel or hope a few of their possessions would go to those who would care. Maybe even care about the items.  For instance I have a beautiful red velvet tufted duck down cushion love seat that was my Nana's.  I slept on it when I was four. I have a French Ottoman that was my Grandmother's.   A plant stand that was my Great Grandmother's....My Grandfather's dog tags and  aviator sunglasses that don't have a scratch on them.
Some jewelry, hair combs from the 40's, a pair of size 4 hunting boots from Nana, (I didn't get the bear rug from the bear she shot).  Old 35 mm slides,  and so on. 

I have seen and heard more times than I care to about a parent dying and the children whisk into the home and bag it all up and call a truck to come dispose of it.  It is meaningless to them because they didn't ever take the time to look or ask.  A blind man would have seen more than most of what I heard from these people regarding the personal possessions of their beloved Mother or Father.  The worst is when they take the photos and if they do not recognize the person.....TRASH.  I can understand if there are no other family members left to view the photos.  Why am I talking like this?  Because today I spoke to an old friend whose mother in law died.  The couple drove a few hours to her cabin and in one day bagged and trashed the entire place.  They cleaned it also which is the good side of the story.  Comments were made like, 'She just had a lot of junk, nothing of value!"  I thought I should climb through the phone and personally choke her for such disrespectful words.  While in the meantime I was looking at my great room thinking, OMG I don't really have anything worth a lot of money or value do I?  I was imagining my children coming in here with trash bags and stuffing and jabbing all my worldly possessions into big black TRASH bags and the big green garbage truck coming for them.  The photos, hair combs, the sweater I wanted so badly and waited until it went on sale to finally get it.  The CD I made for my children to let them know I could sing.  My report cards from first grade through graduation. The rings my son made me in art class.  My daughters baby shoes, and so on. The awards for being top salesperson in the company, top sales team in the company, executive leadership club.  The gold goblets, gold ware, award plaques, the Oscar.....

where will they go?  Will anyone look at them and know I was an executive leader once. Will anyone know that lamp was the second thing I ever bought when I started working after the children were born?  Or the ring was the first thing I bought for myself.  Will anyone look at the video's on my computer.  Or listen to the voice recorder on my Mr. Phone where/who I tell funny stories to. Will they check my contacts list and notify anyone?  Or will they just HURRY and stuff it all in bags, look around, and say, "There's really nothing of real value here."  Drive to the funeral home, talk cremation.  Cook or order some food and get it over with so we can get back to golfing and such. That is pretty much what I have seen and it sucks.  I wouldn't do that to anyone.  I would show respect.  I didn't get one item that was my fathers.  Not a shirt, not a cuff link, not a nadda.  I wanted to make all the Grands a quilt from his clothes.  The guys a throw pillow with "Papa" embroidered in one corner.  I wanted to make him a life book with all the cards and beautiful worded letters from people.  But they got thrown away like trash.  Yes I am upset at the words spoken to me today from that old friend about her mother-in-law.  She's gone.  But her spirit lives on.  I know I know.  Its just stuff.  Things.  But I also have a friend from grade school who wrote a little book called, "All Things Have a Voice!"  by Pamela Adger. People need to be still and listen to the things and the animals more often... Because all things have a voice. 

1936 General Electric Refrigerator.......by Diane Ogden

 

This refrigerator, a 1936 General Electric and lives at the old funny farm in the garage and belonged to my Great Grandmother Luella Kline Baker Anderson. Make a mental note that my Mother is 81 years and that was her Grandmother!

It runs great! The family has gone through MANY refrigerators while this one keeps on cooling! Steady she goes year after year..no repairs, winter and summer in the garage. No air conditioning out there and no heat. Through children and Grand Children and Great Grandchildren. Through party's and Christmas dinners, Thanksgiving's, New Years, Easter's, family reunions, tobacco harvests with many workers, Corn picking, bean picking, and everyday use to hold what the big honker in the kitchen cant hold because they just don't make them like they used to....

Later's.

Poopin' in the Wind............by Diane Ogden

I found myself, no my brain, to be utterly scattered one day last week.

 Well maybe three days for sure.
I was in the process of purchasing my new ride after many many years of no car payments.  I am a person who likes things in order.  Who makes LISTS.  Who has a regular schedule that if it gets off too much the brain gets scattered like say Humpty Dumpty's donkey. (ass when he fell) And that is exactly what happened to me one lovely damp day last week.
 I followed my morning routine to the T!  Showered, brushed teeth, made coffee, fed the herd, got the laundry out of the dryer, walked the dog, cleaned the litter boxes (2), put some makeup on, ate some food, made my lunch!  Looked around the apt. grabbed my lunch and glasses and keys and the bag I used to clean the litter and walked down the stairs to the old Buick where I sat the bag of litter on my trunk while I put the other items in my car. Got into my car  and drove away from the complex onto the frontage road and then onto a secondary hiway. I had driven about two miles down the hiway when I noticed this car speeding up in the lane to my right. I look over and freak the freak out!  The woman driver is so close to me I imagine for real this woman is going to collide with my car all the while one of her arms is outside its front drivers seat flailing all over the place and she is screaming.  O M G!  What the H can be going on?  I have to think which is very difficult at his moment.  I am thinking about HOW TO NOT OPEN the passenger side window because it may never go back up and I am in need of selling said old Buick.  But there she is bigger than life screaming and flailing and driving entirely too close.  She is trying to tell me something and pointing. Considering crazy lady is over the top.   I bit.  I hit the power button and down came the broken window. She is pointing to the back of my car.  Mind you we are trucking at 40-45 mph!!  No chit Charlie.  Now I am thinking I am on fire.  My car is on fire. 
Oh Lord it might blow up cause the gas tank is back there where she is pointing.  Then for some reason my brain became coherent and it heard the words, "There is a sack on your trunk!"  And that is when I realized there was three or four days of poop from three cats that could at any moment implode, explode, fly backwards and hit me and the inside of my car, or ........surely there were no convertibles in the area of the flying poop explosion.  There was no where to pull over!
I had set the HUGE bag of litter on the trunk while I did something else God only knows because I cant remember what it was.  Got into my car.......headed out down the road and onto the main secondary highway.
So I slowed down until I got to a turn off.....which happened to be right in front of my State Farm Agents Office....(should have set it outside there door and lit her up, I know, I know that is from the 60's only and I am certainly just kidding hum)

 I retrieved the huge heavy wet bag of poop and placed it IN the trunk where it stayed until I reached my first clients home where it found its way into their trash receptacle.  I only hoped it wouldn't get too hot before their trash day.  As for the crazy lady.  Jeez, you wudda thunk there was a million dollars in that bag riding high on the back of my Buick.
She could have caused a real serious accident.  Trying to drive closer to my car so I could hear her!  What a goose.  And now when I look back on the whole thing I laugh until I am in tears at that big bag of poop riding down the hiway at 45 mph on the back of the old Buick.  Reminds me of Christmas Vacation movie with Chevy Chase.  Who leaves a bag of poop on the back of their car and goes to work?  MWAH when the brain gets overloaded.
So until I find something funny, interesting, or not even useful.....be safe, be well, be happy, and get rich so its easier to keep your wits about you. Laters.