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THE 11TH, 12TH AND 13TH COMMANDMENTS
Three new tenets by which to live, be they rather obvious. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t grind them into our head every time we get the opportunity. For example, while waiting for a red light to turn green, (and only when at a complete stop) can we ponder the inexplicable costly-ness of life, love, and the Home Shopping Network.
We will find, and by we I mean any single person who bothers reading, writing, or hearing this crisdom (I coined this word myself since the boundaries between crap and wisdom are so often blurred and not worth exploring I take the liberty and join them in such an appealing and novel fashion.)
Anyhow, we will find that if we follow these three basic
commandments, or even pencil them into our bible (any denomination will do) as the eleventh, twelfth, and
thirteenth commandments-(go on, do it, they’ll just fit!) many of life’s small
problems will float away and the healing of small boo-boos will
But you, not being satisfied with the present wooers, somehow collect quarters from the aforementioned admirers and innocently jingle jangle back to bathroom where there just happens to be a pay-phone! At this point it pays to be completely schnockered, and to have an even more schnockered friend with you, so that the next day when the query is uttered, “didn’t we call Stuart, Dick and Brian at around two a.m. last night? Your good friend is bound to say, “We just called to give them California time.” Or “we were just practicing our elephant mating calls. I don’t believe names (at least our names) were mentioned.”
To summarize, It’s after the one or two martini teaser when you are singing along to Kenny Rogers, even if his music isn’t playing, that you SHOULD NOT CALL Mr. Was-Rright-for-18 months.
And now, the last and most damaging possibility:
It is like they really want me to achieve hyper-consumerism, and with three easy flex pays!
It actually was quite a good buy. I think I had Gold hoops with two carats of diamonds each and bracelets and even an anklet for my ankle which makes me question my earthly heritage.
That’s the difference between the drunken mega-shop from ones bed (which is just not possible in a mall where they have such safe guards as Security Personnel and Cameras) and the sober one.
How can one possibly resist, for example, the queen of all mascara’s, such as the goddess born Mirenesse, which is thought superior by any country who has had the luck to have it imported?
It’s like the difference in white stage make up before and after they learned to take the lead out of it in the 20th century.
More miraculous beauty products and other non-findables will be revealed
later for those of you who have to be beautiful on a budget. (i.e. are
WHAT DO YOU THINK? Tell us at the retro housewife hotline!