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Cost of the War in Iraq
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26 June 2002 2:51 p.m.
unbe-effin-lievable
unbe-effin-lievable

crapola. i don't even wanna check and see when the last update was. ah well. maybe everyone has stopped checking my page since then and i can start writing personal things about people cause i know they won't see it. muah-ha-ha. i wouldn't do that. really.

i should have some pretty good stories from all this absent time, no? yeah, probably not. i have a couple decent ones i'll hit ya with.

warning, these stories deal with my 'delicate condition.' so if you're totally bored with my pregnant stories, please read no further. if not, on we go.

okay, so i was warned that once i started to show, that people would no longer respect my personal space. for some reason, you are no longer considered a private individual when you have a uterine stowaway. i have started to look pregant now and have begun to experience these invasions.

the first, a really super nice guy at work gave me the high sign that he was wanting to touch the belly. i gave him the go ahead, thinking, nay assuming! that he would gently pat the baby as others have done. oh no. noooo waaaay. he
a) lifts my shirt about half way up, and
b)shakes the belly with a violent force.

i was dumbfounded. i froze.

then i slapped him.

i'm sorry, but what man thinks he has the right to LIFT UP A WOMAN'S SHIRT?!?!?! is it just cause now it's obvious that i put out? so he just assumes that i'd let any old geezer lift up my shirt? HARDLY!! and then, to shake my stomach like a can of whipped cream? what in GOD'S NAME?!?!

second, there is a guy in my class. he is a total a-hole. i could tell by looking at him. that judgment was reinforced when he says, 'so you're only five months pregnant?' i'm all, 'yeah?', and he's all, 'wow. that's gonna be a BIG baby.'

i did not slap him.

i did walk away. i used the same tactic with him when he tried to tell me a story about one time when he hit his kid. no thank you.

so just be warned, if you want to touch the belly, please just ask. but please do not lift up my shirt, shake my pooch, or tell me i'm fat.

thank you, the management.

~*~


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