Oddly Enough Blog

A skeleton crew of bikini models?

Ah, this is the life, right Lamar? Fashion Week in Brazil, where the women are gorgeous and shapely and we can really show off our most daring bikinis.

I hope you’ve gone all-out to get us some great-looking… OMG! What do you call THAT?

That’s our bikini model, Boss. Too fat?

Lamar, you dimwit! No woman is going to buy one of our swimsuits to try and look like that bony twig! Cripes, I’m afraid she’ll have a wardrobe malfunction when her shoulder blade cuts through the bra strap!

Don’t be so negative, Boss. Give me a couple of days of feeding her doughnuts and milkshakes nonstop, and we can bulk her up to a size zero. Trust me, she’ll be up to 70 pounds by Monday.

And besides, how was I supposed to know she was too thin?

Those are some pretty big shoes to fill

Blog Guy, you’re obviously a very cosmopolitan dude, a citizen of the world, right?

Well, growing up in Indianapolis we supposedly had some Belgians living on our block, although I never actually saw them.

I guess that will do. I heard a rumor that people in Brazil never wear shoes, and I wanted to check that out.

You mean during Carnival? Because if you were paying attention, I covered that this week.

No, I mean in general. Like I heard even the top leaders go barefoot all the time.

That just isn’t true. To help dispel groundless rumors like this, we take shoe shots at every major international meeting.

There were no floats? I didn’t notice!

Okay, it seems a large fire swept through Rio de Janeiro’s Carnival center this week, “destroying thousands of costumes and floats and throwing preparations for Brazil’s annual festival of hedonism into chaos.”

I know this is a serious thing. They work pretty hard all year long on that stuff, and Carnival starts in three weeks.

But COSTUMES? Really?

We have hundreds of photos a year from Brazil’s Carnival, and I can’t use most of them here because I don’t have enough of those expensive protective rectangles to cover the stuff that needs covering to protect my readers. Now suddenly we’re acting like the wardrobe from “Cats” went up in flames?

I’m trying to imagine the emotional conversations with the samba dancers this week.