Sunday, March 7, 2010

And You Know This Because...

Okay, show of hands please: how many of you know what a "fluffer" is?

Really, that many, eh? Guess it's just me.

Because I think "fluffer" sounds like a pretty word, a noun used to describe a person whose work results in something fluffy and lacy and delicate. Like a pastry chef who bakes mouth-watering macaroons or a seamstress who crochets exquisite soft shawls.

When I described my co-worker as being a good "fluffer," it was because she can work magic with a bag and decorative tissue and crepe paper. She fluffs them into lovely, wispy mountain peaks, cascades and bows. If she fluffs well, wouldn't that make her a good fluffer?

How was I supposed to know that a fluffer is actually the crew member on a pornographic movie set whose sole responsibility is to keep the male star, er...."happy" prior to filming sex scenes? It's not like fluffers are used on shows I frequent, like Ghost Whisperer or What Not To Wear.

My co-worker isn't holding my faux pas against me since we both agree, she does fluff exceptionally well. Although just between you and me, I still say she's one heck of a fluffer.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

What the $#@$*k!!?

Okay pottymouths, listen up -- California's first official "Cuss-Free Week" kicks off today, March 2-7. And while most people may find a non-swearing vocabulary paralyzing, immobilizing and incapacitating, I for one anticipate sailing through the week unscathed. C'mon, how hard can it be to go a few days without using expletives? Should be a, I mean, flippin' piece of cake.

Barring a few exceptions, of course. And so, this week I vow to not utter one single swear word. That is, unless I:

  • Drop my Bluetooth in the toilet. Again.
  • Stub my toe.
  • Discover that my teenage niece has posted a photo of me on Facebook in which I bear a striking resemblance to Howard Stern.
  • Sneeze and wet my pants. Not that this has ever happened before, mind you. I'm just mentioning this in case, uh, you know, beyond my wildest imagination it did happen.
  • Get stuck behind some idiot in the "15 items or less" line who apparently can't read because he is buying enough groceries to feed Squaw Valley.
  • Receive any type of correspondence from my physician that includes the word "colonoscopy."
  • Gulp a generous swig of my latte only to discover that the soy milk I used expired three weeks ago.
  • Am rammed in the knees by an over-zealous mall mom who is using her child's stroller as a battering ram so she can race over to Macy's for their daily "one day only" sale.
  • Find my greyhound, Lucy, once again using my $125 handmade medium density side-sleeper hypoallergenic luxury down pillow as her own pillow...for her butt.
  • Get yet another "invitation" from those stalkers at AARP. Hey, I'm in denial, folks. Work with me.
  • Step in....oh, never mind. That's a Hall of Famer and goes without saying.
Yup, piece of cake, all right. Somebody hand me a staple gun for the lips and I'm good to go.
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