When Shay contacted me about oversharing, I knew her story was a perfect fit. She says boobs a lot.
Oh and hey? If you’re still around, check out the new vlog I made for The More Than Mommies Mixer. I’ve learned a lot about myself from vlogging: I only have two shirts, I make weird faces when I talk to thee computer, and I should lay off the carbs as to get rid of my double chin. And I sweat a lot.
In another lifetime (read: pre-kids), I used to go out and drink a lot of beer.
When my older sister was still on her first husband, I used to do some of that beer drinking on his pontoon boat, which made for a great party. In fact, when they got divorced, I yelled at her for being so damned selfish all the time: I mean, hadn’t she even thought about how the boat might be affected? Or how we might be affectedwithout the boat? Couldn’t she take one for the team and save her marriage for the sake of the damned boat?
But alas, she refused, and the pontoon par-tay was over.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before the divorce, we used to go out on the part-ay pontoon all the time. During one of those trips, my younger sister wore a little fitted tee over her bikini that said this: “It’s cute how you think I’m listening.”
It was obviously directed to any guys she happened to be talking to at the time, and my little sister could pull it off. She got all the looks in the family. When you picture her and me (and that is totally correct grammar, I promise) standing together, think of Arnold Schwarzenegger/Danny DeVito in Twins. Except that she’s the short, dark-headed one but with good features and I’m the tall blonde with…not so good features. Unless you’re into horses or people who look like them—which some people totally are, so I’m good…really, I am! (Did I just type that last sentence correctly? I can’t see the screen through the tears streaming down my face…)
But you get the point—or maybe you don’t, so I’ll just tell you: Of the three of us girls in the family, she’s the hot sister…although my older sister would vehemently disagree.
I remember inclining my head toward her shirt and saying, “Oh my gosh, I need to get one of those!”
My little sister smiled and nodded indulgently, even though we both knew that if the same guys were to read the line “It’s cute how you think I’m listening” plastered across my chest on a baby tee, they’d likely be thinking something along the lines of: “It’s cute how you think I’m looking.”
That afternoon, after having consumed several beers, jello shots, and mixed drinks, my older sister and I were sitting on the end of the pontoon, our feet dangling in the water as we shared ciggies and a nice buzzed chat. We saw a guy from a neighboring boat float by, then turn around and paddle back to us.
“Can I see your tits?” he asked.
I looked at my older sister, speechless.
“Oh, he’s obviously not talking to me, Shay,” she said, shrugging as she took a drag off of her ciggie. “He’s looking right at you.”
I looked back toward the guy, still floating in his inflatable donut in the water. He was so drunk that his eyes were glazed over and almost crossed.
“Um, I don’t think…I don’t think he’s totally sure where he’s looking,” I responded, leaning closer to him as I waved a few fingers in front of his eyes.
“I do!” the drunky insisted. “I’m looking at you…Sha…”
“Shay,” I supplied. “I know that one syllable can be killer.”
“Shay,” he tried again, nodding his head. “I swam all the way over here because I thought you were so pretty,” he slurred at me. “I could have drowned.”
I looked over my right shoulder at the boat that was literally hooked up to ours, which is how people did it at the lake to meet other likeminded drunks. “That’s your boat right there. It’s touching ours. You didn’t even have to doggy paddle over here; you could have just stepped into our boat.” (Isn’t it cute how I made it “our” boat, as if I owned a seat cushion or something?)
My sister cocked her head at me, confused at my snarky tone. “Oh, come on, Shay, didn’t you hear him? He swamall the way over here just to see you.” She said it like that was something to be proud of, as if I were lucky that this bastard squozen into an inflatable pink donut had chosen to offer me the opportunity of showing him my bottle caps. “Just show him your boobs.”
“What?” I snapped, my mouth hanging open in shock at her suggestion. “What do you mean, just show him my boobs?”
“You heard me. The poor guy is out of breath from all of that swimming—”
“His boat is touching ours! I don’t think it could get any closer if we stacked them on top of each other!”
My older sister shrugged. I leaned closer to her and whispered frantically. “You know my policy: No showing my boobs because I don’t want to get laughed at.”
No, folks, it’s not a strong sense of dignity or self-respect that keeps me from showing off these concave knockers that en ex-boyfriend—while we were still dating—once called “Shay’s little baby boobs.” It’s the fact that I’m afraid that upon seeing them, someone will laugh hysterically while calling me a little boy.
“Oh, please,” my sister responded, rolling her eyes. “He’s so drunk he can’t even see.”
“But you just said he was looking at me—”
“Oh my gosh, you’re such a diva,” my sister muttered, flicking her ciggie ashes.
I blinked, staring at her in astonishment. “Wait. Wait, back up. You’re calling me a diva for not wanting to show my boobs to a guy who’s so drunk he doesn’t even realize he’s in the water?” We both looked down at the guy who was currently trying to reach behind him to flush a toilet. “Besides,” I added, grimacing at the thought of what had come out of his body and hoping it was a #1, “shouldn’t I be saving my precious gifts for marriage?”
My sister and I couldn’t help but crack up. We love to pepper the many lessons we learned from 12 years of Catholic school into any and every conversation that we can. Since we don’t use them elsewhere in life, we figure it’d be a shame not to at least use them to spice up a conversation here and there.
“Oh, please,” she said. “You’re not a Duggar. Or Kirk Cameron.”
“I don’t even know what the hell that means…” I faltered.
“It means get over yourself and show the poor guy your boobs. He’s only got one eye opened now, anyway.”
I don’t know what it was about my older, wiser sister’s speech. Probably the Kirk Cameron thing. I really liked his acting style as a kid. Whatever the case, I figured I’d just go for it. I made my sister turn around while I did it…or at least started to do it…
But the bikini top hadn’t come down even an inch before I saw something repulsive sticking out, something waving in the wind, begging, pleading for a pair of tweezers, something that I needed to hurriedly cover before anyone else saw.
But it was too late.
“Was that…was that a hair?” the drunk guy, whose eyes had suddenly snapped back into focus, yelled just before the gagging set in. “A big black one?” he continued between retches.
And that’s when his system, mentally taunted and tickled by a big, wiry black boob hair joyously weaving to and fro in the warm summer breeze, had had enough. He leaned over his donut and horked.
My older sister languidly lifted her feet out of the water and laughed as he paddled away into the sunshine (or the neighboring boat), still puking as he kicked his drunken little legs as fast as he could to get away from the hair.
And while I would have liked to have joined in her laughter after we’d made sure that he’d gotten back into his boat safely, I was too busy looking for a pair of damned tweezers—although I knew it wouldn’t matter now, anyway.
There was no way I was going to attempt to show off these tiny boobs again after my worst flashing nightmare hadn’t only come true, but had been kicked up a notch on the first and only time I’d ever even thought about showing them off:
Because the would-be viewer of the teats hadn’t laughed; he’d PUKED. And this was without even seeing my boobs.
DAMMIT.
Trashy Blog is written by Shay, who posts once a week—normally on Fridays, when she has a chance to kick back with a beer and trash her skanky little heart out. Check her out at www.trashyblog.com
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And now we vlog:
You are so right that you don’t feel so strange when everyone else alongside of you is indeed Vlogging. And you and I could shake hands on the hair issue, because I too have a ton and very long also. I too put it up in the summer, because if I didn’t well then I would sweat and we all know how much of a turn-off that is, lol!! But seriously, loved you Vlog yet again and seriously you are such a natural with this!! 🙂
Shay, while I never made anyone puke by flashing some half boob, I identified so much with this story. I too, have rogue hairs in crazy places that are far from ladylike, I want my sensibilities to be less Puritan than they really are, and I’ve let drunk guys and cigarette-wielding girls talk me into things I normally wouldn’t do. Most importantly, I love getting drunk on boats.
Loved this story!!
Steph, the sound on my computer is messed up, so I can’t hear your vlog, but you look pretty. As always.
Aw, thanks so much, Amy! I still blame my older sister. And she’s supposed to be the wiser one…at least I did learn a valuable lesson about never attempting to flash these little knockers again….:)
You are just the cutest thing Stephanie!!
You are adorable! Thanks for sharing!
And Steph–thanks again for featuring my story. I’ll walk around all proudly today…but I’ll keep my boobs in my shirt. Promise. 🙂
I swear you make me laught like no one Shay! I love that you had the guts to show boy boobs, courage that I don’t have. Don’t be too hard on your sister. If family isn’t going to do everything possible to emberess you who is?!?!
That is too sweet! Thank you so much! And I don’t normally have those kinds of guts…I blame the beer. Haha
OMG Shay. Not even sure what to say to that. You painted quite a picture!!
And Steph – adorable as always. Sweaty mess in bed – can’t get with that! Loved it.
I heart you, Penny! 🙂
I had to read my husband what you said. “Not even sure what to say to that” had me cracking up so hard. Thank you!!
Always love a little ditty from Shay – especially when it has to do with boobies! And I haven’t done the vlog thing yet, but I enjoyed yours, Steph. So jealous that you don’t need any hair products!
Dana, your gorgeous face was made to vlog! With or without boobie exposure and/or hair products 😉
Thanks, Dana. You are the best!
Always keeping it real Stephanie! Loved the vlog! (funny I love saying the word? vlog…wonder if I’m the only one on this limb tho)
I think YOU should VLOG! VLOG! VLOG!
OMG!!!! I love you for writing this. Those hairs really show up in the worst places, don’t they?! Drives me crazy!!! Such a shame the guy puked and ruined any chance of you becoming a stripper. HA!!! xo
I always say that when your gut is bigger than your boobs, you’ll ever make it as a stripper. Sadly, stripping has never been an option for me for that very reason. 🙂 I love you too, Dani!!
*never*
So happy to see Shay here! This post was hysterical! I couldn’t have even attempted the flash unless I was at least as half as drunk as the guy was–but oh man what a great story you have here! And Steph–once again you’ve made a fabulous vlog–the camera loves you. You have an adorable smile and you’re funny as hell. Can’t wait to see the next one!
It was great getting to know Shay; this was fun for everyone!! 🙂 Thanks for your kind words, Mama 😉
I think I bothered the hell out of poor Steph wondering when my post was going up. She is a very kind and patient soul. I have loved getting to know you, too!
And Marcia–you know how much I adore you. Thanks for always reading!
OMG! I am dying of laughter here…
Thank you so much!!
Wow, I was not expecting that twist at the end. This is so good. God, I love oversharing (thanks Steph).
I wasn’t expecting it, either. I normally like to blame the amount of beer the guy had consumed for puking rather than my rogue hair, but for the story’s sake, I think it worked better to blame the hair. Haha. Either way, it wasn’t pretty! 🙂
Thanks for reading!
Absolutely cracking up!! Years ago,after a night out and feeling like I was totally rocking it, I went home and got ready for bed. Changing in the bathroom (in the good light) I caught a glimpse of something in the mirror. Looked down, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t have a long, black hair poking out of my chest. The whole evening up in mental flames … surely everyone had seen that honker!
Thanks for oversharing!! 😀
Thank YOU for reading my oversharing! Isn’t that the worst, when you are strutting yourself, feeling awesome, and then something like that just takes you down a few notches? I can SO relate, obviously…:)
Thanks so much for Oversharing, Shay!!!!!! Tell your friends–this is the place to be! Or at least it’s fun. 😉 Thanks, lady! xo
Thanks for having me!!
What a funny over sharing post!!! And you are just so so fun to watch Stephanie!!! You are also just so naturally beautiful, honey! 🙂 Love your vlogs!!
Aren’t you just the sweetest?! Thank you from my hairy, sweaty self 😉
Thank you, Chris!
Shay, glad your sister had the smarts to divorce that creep! However, I did find myself laughing out loud at your story, thank you for sharing.
Steph, after watching your vlog, I’m thinking about working up enough courage to try it out myself. Loved it!
Do it! Do it! (Chant that like toga from Animal House, and definitely include a toga in your vlog) 😉
Sara–thanks so much for laughing out loud; that’s what makes going through all of this ridiculous stuff that I blog about the most worth it–the funny stories!
But her ex-husband was actually a really great guy. The guy who asked to see my hairy boob was just a guy floating by who happened to stop at our boat. My sister’s ex would never have done something like that…thank goodness! Haha
*sigh* Rogue black hairs! Tell me about it!!
Waaaahhh, I always wanted a pontoon boat! I’m so sorry for your loss:(
Oh. The. Hair. You poor thing! Is this why you now have an obsession with your tweezers?
Oh, and Steph, you’re just so damn cute!
Well, shucks, Kim. Thanks 🙂
First, Shay, I love the way you tell a story…also love that you had a rogue hair because once my sister found one on my neck. I have a pixie hair cut and that nasty hair was literally longer than the hair on my head. Vomit. She had to wind that son of a bitch around her finger when I demanded she pull it.
Second, Steph, you are ADORABLE! I don’t think I have the balls to vlog. I get all sorts of uncomfortable when I Facetime. I’m a total loser.
Bethany, you need to blog while in a headstand. You would be such a boss. 🙂
I wear the same shirt so much that my son has started just looking at me with disgust. I don’t care, it’s comfy, it doesn’t make me look like a whale, and I love it. Love the Vlog thing. Maybe, just maybe… and Shay CRACKS ME UP!
Do it! Do it!
And thank you 🙂