Dear Blob,
My current day job demands I ride around in a car all day looking for hot people in LA who are not actors. Camera-ready, we call them in the industry, so not necessarily hot, but attractive, easy on the eyeballs.
Speaking of balls, my new fabulous lesbian friends came over for dinner this weekend and the conversation turned to talent-shows featuring gay-men in glitter banana-hammock speedos, which led to Chef LB's girlfriend outing her misunderstanding of ball-location.
Apparently, Chef LB never changed boy's diapers, must have spaced-out during man-anatomy/sex-ed and being gay, never had the opportunity to clarify the exact location of the male junk and she thought balls were attached to the male buttocks.
Chef LB's girlfriend kindly shed light on the actual location of balls, attached to the meep and the concern then turned to: when in Flashdance-like leotard costumes, where do drag-queens tuck their junk?
Now that Chef LB discovered balls are not attached to the male buttocks, her concern was how far drag-queen junk has to go to be tucked away; apparently, they tuck it between the cheeks.
In other news, I thought buttocks was a synonym for bosom until I was 15.
Love The Ukulady
ps: Driving around looking for hot people has minimized my exercise-time, particularly yoga and we get free business lunch everyday, which is leading to a plumpening. After business lunch, I call myself Pouchini, Puccini's lesser-known sibling.
pps: Speaking of drag-queens, Fired-for-Being-Gay, BFF, Mitch Stein's former water-polo swim-students seem to have started a Bring Our Coach Back Facebook Page. To The Downfall of Evil!
