OT: Class Reunions

[Guest guest]

Hi y'all,

 

Summer time is when many of us will be going to High School Reunions.

Mine will not be held again until July 2005 but I'm always ready anyway.

Fact is .. I heard the other day that President Bush might be recalling

some of us retired military folks to active duty to take advantage of

our experience. I starting getting ready soon as I heard that .. got

out my old uniforms and tried them on. So far .. the socks fit well.

 

Anyway .. guys like me can go to reunions and not worry. Somebody says

we look like we picked up a pound of two .. I just say something like

" They got damn good beer where I live now, " and everybody chuckles.

 

Some women can deal with it that way too .. then there are others like

the lady below. Y'all keep smiling. :-) Butch

-------------------

I had prepared for it like any intelligent woman would. I went on a

starvation diet the day before, knowing that all the extra weight would

melt off in 24-hours, leaving me with a sleek, trim, high-school-girl

body.

 

The last many years of careful cellulite collection would just be gone

with a snap of a finger. I knew if I didn't eat a morsel on Friday, that

I could probably fit into my senior formal on Saturday.

 

Trotting up to the attic, I pulled the gown out of the garment bag,

carried it lovingly downstairs, ran my hand over the fabric, and hung

it on the door.

 

I stripped naked, looked in the mirror, sighed, and thought, " Well,

okay, maybe if I shift it all to the back. " Bodies never have pockets

where you need them. Bravely, I took the gown off the hanger, unzipped

the shimmering dress and stepped gingerly into it.

 

I struggled, twisted, turned, and pulled and I got the formal all the

way up to my knees .. before the zipper gave out. I was disappointed. I

wanted to wear that dress with those silver platform sandals again and

dance the night away.

 

OK, one setback was not going spoil my mood for this affair. No way!

 

Rolling the dress into a ball and tossing it into the corner, I turned

to Plan B: The black velvet caftan.

 

I gathered up all the goodies that I had purchased at the drug store:

the scented shower gel; the body building and highlighting shampoo &

conditioner and the split-end killer and shine enhancer. Soon my hair

would look like that girl's in the Pantene ads.

 

Then the makeup -- the under eye " ain't no lines here " firming cream,

the all-day face-lifting gravity-fighting moisturizer with wrinkle

filler spackle; the all day " kiss me till my lips bleed, and see if

this gloss will come off " lipstick, the bronzing face powder for that

special glow. But first, the roll-on facial hair remover. I could feel

the wrinkles shuddering in fear.

 

OK - time to get ready .. I jumped into the steaming shower, soaped,

lathered rinsed, shaved, tweezed, buffed, scrubbed, and scoured my

body to a tingling pink. I plastered my freshly scrubbed face with the

anti-wrinkle, gravity fighting, " your face will look like a baby's butt "

face cream. I set my hair on the hot rollers.

 

I felt wonderful. Ready to take on the world. Or in this instance, my

underwear. With the towel firmly wrapped around my glistening body, I

pulled out the black lace, tummy-tucking, cellulite-pushing, ham-hock

rounding girdle, and the matching " lifting those bosoms like they're

filled with helium " bra.

 

I greased my body with the scented body lotion and began the plunge. I

pulled, stretched, tugged, hiked, folded, tucked, twisted, shimmied,

hopped, pushed, wiggled, snapped, shook, caterpillar crawled, and

kicked. Sweat poured off my forehead but I was done. And it didn't

look bad.

 

So I rested. A well deserved rest, too. The girdle was on my body.

Bounce a quarter off my behind? It was tighter than a trampoline. Can

you say, " Rubber baby buggy bumper butt? " OK, so I had to take baby

steps and walk sideways, and I couldn't move from my butt cheeks to my

knees. But, I was firm!

 

Oh no .. I had to go to the bathroom. And there wasn't a snap crotch.

>From now on, undies gotta have a snap crotch. I was ready to rip it

open and re-stitch the crotch with Velcro, but the pain factor from past

experiments was still fresh in my mind. I quickly side stepped to the

bathroom. An hour later, I had answered nature's call and repeated the

struggle into the girdle.

 

I was ready for the bra and remembered what the sales lady said to do.

I could see her glossed lips mouthing, " Do not fasten the bra in the

front, and twist it around. Put the bra on the way it should be worn -

straps over the shoulders. Then bend over and gently place both breasts

inside the cups.

 

Easy if you have four hands. But, with confidence, I put my arms into

the holsters, bent over and pulled the bra down .. but the boobs weren't

cooperating. I'd no sooner tuck one in a cup, and while placing the

other, the first would slip out. I needed a strategy. I bounced up and

down a few times, tried to dribble them in with short bunny hops, but

that didn't work.

 

So, while bent over, I began rocking gently back and forth on my heel

and toes and I set 'em to swinging. Finally, on the fourth swing, pause,

and lift, I captured the gliding glands. Quickly fastening the back of

the bra, I stood up for examination. Back straight, slightly arched, I

turned and faced the mirror, turning front, and then sideways. I smiled,

" Yes, Houston, we have lift up! " My breasts were high, firm and there

was cleavage!

 

I was happy until I tried to look down. I had a chin rest and I

couldn't see my feet.

 

I still had to put on my pantyhose, and shoes. Oh .. why did I buy

heels with buckles?

 

Then I had to pee again.

 

I took off the clothes, put on my sweats, fixed myself a drink, ordered

pizza, and skipped the reunion.

 

IF THIS DIDN'T GIVE YOU A LAUGH - YOU'RE TOO YOUNG TO UNDERSTAND IT!