Oddly Enough Blog
News, but not the serious kind
Okay, I enjoy lame as much as the next guy, but sometimes there needs to be a line in the sand. An appropriate expression, by the way, because the subject here is a beach.
To qualify for a Guinness world record, somebody got 1,010 bikini-clad women together on a beach in Australia. Does that strike you as being difficult at all? I mean, women in bikinis! Where else are they going to be?
What’s next in this person’s relentless quest for the impossible? Seeing how many dark suits he can find at the FBI? Counting Krispy Kreme doughnuts at NYPD Headquarters?
Blog Guy, our family keeps a list of our favorite postings in your blog. We read them over and over, and laugh until root beer comes out of our noses. We were just wondering if other readers have favorites, too?
Okay, nobody believes for a moment that there’s a Johnson family that rereads this junk, but I am able to tell you the most popular posts.
Blog guy, I’ve been reading your advice about things such as belly dancing, contortionism, snake handling, voluntary mutilation and other respected careers, and I’m wondering if you could suggest some areas of study that I might not have considered?
Have you thought about the field of competitive beauty pageantry? We have some photos from a “school” in Bolivia that prepares young women for a long and rewarding career of tiara-wearing. If you can smile for no reason whatsoever, and your name ends in an “i” even though it probably shouldn’t – Bambi, Brandi, Randi, Candi, etc. – you may have royal potential. Think about it.
It’s our job to spot absurd trends, so you don’t have to worry about them. Recently we’ve blogged about a carwash featuring topless women, a butler service that supplies scantily clad hunks to serve at your parties… And now, women to mow your lawn in bikinis.
The bikini lawn-mowers already plan a leaf service for the fall, so where will this trend go next?
It’s one of those social dilemmas we all face these days, in in our busy, busy lives. Velma needs to put in a day at the conservative think tank where she works, but afterwards she wants to go straight to the beach, while there’s still some sun. What to do, what to do?
Well, this clever outfit, seen at a genuine fashion show, is a lifesaver. The collar and tie satisfy even the most traditional office dress codes, but Velma can still hit the waves without skipping a beat, and who’s to notice that her business attire was really a thinly-disguised bikini? One question: what does the casual Friday version look like?
Okay, nobody seems to think it’s bizarre that a model at a swimwear fashion show in Budapest struts out in a bikini, a garter and gun?
What kind of beaches do they have over there in Hungary, anyway? Because, call me a weenie if you want, but I kind of like to relax in resorts where a big Super Soaker is about the most dangerous thing around.
Okay, the caption tells us this fashion model is showing swimsuit “accessories.” Nice try. I don’t think this thing counts as an accessory, unless you’re Cleopatra heading for a splash with Mark Antony.
I mean, who goes swimming with a whole pavilion on her head? I don’t care how sexy the bikini might be, folks don’t want to have Miss Hot Stuff flop into the aluminum lounge chair next to them, blocking the rays with a hat that looks like a sundial.
True or false?
1) It’s fine to stub your cigarette out on a used dinner plate
2) The back of a taxi is a great place for a one-night stand
3) If you want to go topless, just whip off your bikini and set an example
If you answered false to all of these, you may be more refined than you thought. Debrett’s, the bible of blue-blooded behavior in Britain, is now supplying etiquette advice in these areas, with a new book offering guidance on adultery, toplessness, smoking and other stuff that otherwise classy women might be confused about.
The latest version of the bikini - once the most sizzling little bit of clothing around - beeps to tell you when you’re brown enough. That’s pretty much the same thing a good oven thermometer will do, it’s just that here the main course is a little more attractive.
I don’t know. A belt with a timer and a meter to measure UV rays – that doesn’t seem like Pamela Anderson – seems more like Batman to me. Robin, to the Rivieramobile!