I'm talking about pants-down-around-his-arse-bandaid-on-his-cheek-do-rag Nelly.
But, never before have I been able to relate to such eloquently written Hip-Hop songs. Until now.
It's getting hot in here (so hot) so take off all your clothes
I am, getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off
It's getting hot in here (so hot) so take off all your clothes
I am, getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off
Uh, uh, uh, let it hang all out
(And good gracious, my arse is more than just a little bit bodacious, even if I do say so myself)
I would never have regarded him as a lyrical genius before, but nowadays, I swear on Ryan Goslings abs - A chorus has never resonated with me so much.
Now. Lets just clarify. I'm not a sweaty person.
I've never had issues with excessive, or even noteable, for that matter, perspiration.
No.
I'm a lady.
I don't sweat.
I glisten.
These days, however, the sweat is pouring off me. I feel disgusting. I feel like a Swamp Monster of some description.
I just seem to sweat like a whore in church... All. The. Time.
I live out the vast majority of my days swanning around topless and in shorts because I cannot handle the feeling of shirts clinging to me. It's unbearable.
Even just having that little bit of fabric from my bra strap clinging to my back is more than I can stand - But, because I want to maintain at least some level of dignity (as well as sparing the eyesight of those around me), I leave my bra on.
I was warned of the possibilty of night sweats, and I have suffered from them in a minor capacity, but I was not prepared for that consistent presence of this awful sticky feeling.
Now, whenever I have a hot flash, it's accompanied by a sweat goatee, a glistening forehead and those delightful beads of perspiration that run down your spine and down your cleavage.
I'm now more determined than ever to lose weight, as I am sick of drying sweat from the cracks and crevices of my womanly shape - This is the one time I would actually gladly consider taking on a waif like appearance.
Nothing more attractive than zebra stripes on your shirt, caused by the shirt itself being folded under your boobs.
So, if you'll excuse me. I must go take my third cold shower today, change into my fourth shirt of the day, wipe down the couch and lay down a towel and turn the air-con onto the 'Arctic' setting.
Menopause.
Sure is glamorous.
I just seem to sweat like a whore in church... All. The. Time.
I live out the vast majority of my days swanning around topless and in shorts because I cannot handle the feeling of shirts clinging to me. It's unbearable.
Even just having that little bit of fabric from my bra strap clinging to my back is more than I can stand - But, because I want to maintain at least some level of dignity (as well as sparing the eyesight of those around me), I leave my bra on.
I was warned of the possibilty of night sweats, and I have suffered from them in a minor capacity, but I was not prepared for that consistent presence of this awful sticky feeling.
Now, whenever I have a hot flash, it's accompanied by a sweat goatee, a glistening forehead and those delightful beads of perspiration that run down your spine and down your cleavage.
I'm now more determined than ever to lose weight, as I am sick of drying sweat from the cracks and crevices of my womanly shape - This is the one time I would actually gladly consider taking on a waif like appearance.
Nothing more attractive than zebra stripes on your shirt, caused by the shirt itself being folded under your boobs.
So, if you'll excuse me. I must go take my third cold shower today, change into my fourth shirt of the day, wipe down the couch and lay down a towel and turn the air-con onto the 'Arctic' setting.
Menopause.
Sure is glamorous.
I realise that all of this is very serious and I would never jest about your pain and struggle but I do find your writing VERY funny.
ReplyDeleteGood! I'm glad, humour is what sees me through, haha! Ifi wasn't able to laugh about all these things, I'd go batty!
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