At age 11 packing up and saving my Barbie dolls for the day when I might have a daughter who’d like to play with them: awww….so sweet.
Having that actually happen: something I’ve been dreaming of for 23 years. (GASP)
Watching my husband play Barbies with my daughter: sniffle…made me cry it’s so cute…
Telling him how much it means to me to see them play Barbies together only for him to admit he likes playing Barbies because it’s the closest he’ll ever come to having a realdoll:
Kick me in the crotch and spit in my hair priceless.
Going through old photos looking for a dorky picture of myself to share with the internetatrons: A somewhat painful trip down Memory Lane.
I swear I was tempted to blackmail myself a few times, but that would have gone nowhere.
Finding pictures and realizing that my thing for the paisans didn’t start with Tony Soprano at all, but in high school with 1st ever boyfriend Tommy Delfino instead:
Awwwww…so cute. I was such a little Puttana for that boy. I so almost lost my virginity that night!
Could I have chosen some larger flowers maybe? And that dress…ugh! Joan Rivers would have a fucking field day! I mean, is it Halloween or prom? Seriously.
Anywho, 2 years later we broke up because he had a goomah like any good Italian boy did. But I wasn’t an Italian girl, so I didn’t have to put up with that bullshit.
OMFG! and his family?
Sshhhh! You don’t want me to get whacked do ya?
And you know I wore red for St. Joseph’s day yesterday, right?
And then I got naked and rolled around in Zeppole.
Don’t tell anyone.