Irritants

Bra shopping always brings back irritating memories.

Memories like one time when you were younger and your father decided that he would tag along as you traipsed through the lingerie sections of department stores at the mall.

In many respects bra shopping is much like shoe shopping, and I'm pretty sure that as far as my father is concerned, it's just as uninteresting. Actually, I'm 100% sure of that. To tell the truth, I hate shoe shopping just as much as he does.

This did not bode well for either of us.

Inevitably while I was looking through whatever happened to be in stock, my father would find the ugliest neon green foam padded bra he could get his hands on and then put it on his face and pretend that they were alien eyes.

Or he would find the biggest pair of old lady panties in the store and declare that he was going to rig them to a boat and go sailing, or he'd wear a pair of them on his head and run around like a Mexican wrestler.

When he was finally bored of that he would eventually pick up the smallest thong he could find and ask if it was a bracelet or something.

But in spite of the memories, that's exactly what I'm going to go do tomorrow, as the majority of my bras have now reached the stage where they're not saggy enough to be noticeable to other people but just enough to be uncomfortable and irritate the hell out of me.

Other things that irritate me today:

small dogs

women who call their husbands "hubby"

people who stand on escalators

the fact that Monty Python was supposed to be on at 10:00 and wasn't

co-op jobs that pay honorariums of between $500-1000 per semester when you have to pay $600 per semester to do co-op in the first place

fabric softener