Just Like Heaven

I love golf. If I didn't have things to do or cramps, life would almost be perfect. (Except that whole job thing *crosses figures for second interview with place I interviewed with last week*.)

But as for golf, my Spanish lover has been doing beautifully so far. He even cleared a tree and is definitely wearing She Hulk green for me. I'll have to call my grandpa today and have golf snark.

Man, he just missed some putting. (Putting is Sergio's weakness.)

The Trouser Industry Makes My Ass Look Fat

Among other joyful activities today, I went trouser (and other) shopping. I always have problems with trousers looking right, no bunching in the crotch and definitely no tapered legs. (Who the hell thought that was a good trend to bring back?) With jeans, I've found my niche brands which tend to make stuff that looks pretty good on me and I wear size 6 or 7 (or maybe a 5 if I've been working out and not eating ice cream.) But I need trousers for interviews/work, nice slacks. In slacks, I wear a 6 to a 10. WTF? Can't we agree on a measurement? This makes me want to binge on ice cream out of frustration. No wonder so many people keep their ratty sweatpants from the 80s. I mean, I have an ass and hips and so do most women. The pair I found that fit and looked nice, when I sat down there was enough fabric at my crotch (front, not back) to pack my 8-inch dildo. Designers, women do not have cocks they need hide, unless they do have cocks, but then usually they're hiding them.