Move On Over, Gwyneth


So, the other night, Randy called out to me from the office.

Randy: Hey, did you see what Gwneth Paltrow is doing?

Me: Nope.

Randy: She’s selling candles that smell like her vagina.

Me: Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Randy: You have a birthday coming up.


First of all, if Randy spent $75 on any candle, I’d be pretty pissed. Secondly, he can’t, because the candles Gwyneth claims smell like her vagina sold out.

I’m skeptical, because I read one of the scents was bergamot. While I certainly do not have first hand knowledge of the scent emanating from Gwyneth Paltrow‘s lady garden, I am reasonably sure it does not smell like Earl Grey tea.

On the other hand, she did sell out of the candles.

Maybe, vagina scented products are the wave of the future? Perhaps, we women should jump on this and cash in. But why stop at candles? The possibilities are endless. Such as:

  • Turtle Wax that smells like my vagina
  • Glade plug-ins that smell like my vagina
  • Schnapps that smells like my vagina
  • That orange stuff the schools use to clean up puke that smells like my vagina
  • Breakfast cereal that smells like my vagina
  • Old Bay seasoning that smells like my vagina (That’s as close as we are coming to a fish joke. That’s just too easy)
  • Hand sanitizer that smells like my vagina
  • Honey baked ham that smells like my vagina
  • Lemon Pledge that smells like my vagina, except lemony

You get the point. There’s room for all women! We can all market products which smell like our vaginas! And that is still less fucking weird than all the bullshit going on these days.

So, we’re going to shift away from vaginas and vagina scented products.

My mom turned 80 last week and her desire was to visit the museum center with her kids and grand kids.

She got her wish. We weren’t all there for the entire visit, but for a short time, we were all together. Most of the time was spent taking pictures and getting into people’s way.

When I was a kid, the museum center was still a train station and the museums were on the other side of downtown. They really did do a great job with this museum. It is a popular attraction and rightfully so.

Which means when you park, you might be walking a while.

Yesterday, in January, in Cincinnati, Ohio, the temperature was 70 degrees. Which is bizarre.

So, I figured “how much can the weather actually change in less than 24 hours?”

Well, about 30 degrees worth.

I wore a pair of slip on Chuck Taylor’s with no socks and we had to park as far from the museum as we could park and still be in the museum’s parking lot. You know, a different zip code.

By the time we got inside, the ends of my legs felt like large, aching blocks of ice. (I have absurdly large feet for a short girl)

While everyone debated about which museum to tour first, I grabbed my daughter-in-law and headed for the gift shop. Surely, they would have socks. It’s a gift shop! What is a gift shop without socks?

My daughter-in-law found a pair,

DIL:’s some. They’re sparkly.

Me: That works.

DIL: Oh, wait. They’re $15.

Me: My feet are frozen.

DIL: Okay! Here you go.

So, that is why I am now the proud owner of sparkly NASA socks. And also why I am $15 poorer.

Afterwards, the walk back to the car was much more comfortable.

Oh, and if you find yourself contemplating eating any sort of ham that smells like any body part? Pass that shit up, okay? It’s no good. 


Image courtesy of Neelam279.



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