She's Alive! (or Something Like That)

Thanks to the wonderful leads I got from experienced crafters Minne and Elizabeth Perry and Debra Roby at blogher.org after I sought advice, I followed the easy instructions for making a duct tape mannequin at Threads. It cost about $12 for two rolls of 1.88" x 20 yards duct tape at Staples and $10 for polyester stuffing at some fabric store in Chinatown. I used a free t-shirt and a pair of old pajama bottoms, so those were either free or sunk costs.

First, I donned my tight fitting clothes. (As you can see, sacrificing these duds to the cause was no real loss.)Not shown: the underwire bra I wore, no padded cups.

Next, Husband wrapped me with horizontal strips of duct tape. He is not particularly crafty (although very creative and clever), and was even able to do this while watching the Jets game on TV. (As Lingerie Model Suzanne will be wearing underwear, she needed a crotch and legs, so we deviated a bit from the instructions.)Here I am after the entire first layer of duct tape was applied.After all three layers were complete, it looked like this:Husband cut down the back with chicken shears to free me from my duct tape armor, and I sealed it with more duct tape. Then I stuffed Lingerie Model Suzanne with polyfil, then sealed her arm, leg, and neck holes with pieces of cardboard and more duct tape. Viola!!! Now we are BFFs like Britney and Paris, except that we both we wear underwear.For less than $25 and about 3 total hours of investment (not including the hair cut I got for unrelated reasons, making my hair look much better), I wound up with an amazing likeness of me that I can use for my anti-Victoria's Secret Fashion Show tomorrow! Of course, Lingerie Model Suzanne does not quite capture all the flab-hanging nuance of real Suzanne, but the odds are high that more women will be able to identify with a duct tape version of me than the real models on tomorrow night's show.

Nature and Glamour: At the Museum

Husband and I attended a fancy-schmancy event on Saturday night at the Museum of Natural History. (No, it wasn't Michael's Bar Mitvah. That was the other event at the museum that night. I shit you not.) We spent a fun evening eating and dancing in the Hall of Ocean Life. I was all gussied up for the evening, and even wore make-up and shit. Several nice photo opportunities presented themselves.

I could not wait to pose with the infamous sperm whale in epic battle with a giant squid.When I mentioned it to one of Husband's acquaintences, he objected to the use of the word "sperm" in the whale's name. I asked if perhaps "jizz" whale, "splooge" whale, or "sputum" whale might be more acceptable to him. Husband was slightly horrified at first, but realized the guy was drunk and would probably not remember any of this.I also posed next to parasites. My friend The Sauce was in the Peace Corps and actually shat these things out for several years during and after her return from the jungle.

Speaking of shit, here I am with Uranus.Ha ha ha ha. That planet will never fail to crack me (and a busload of elementary school kids) up. After posing with Uranus, we passed by Michael's Bar Mitvah, where they were giving out free gourmet popcorn to guests. It seems that sniggering about Uranus makes people think that I am 13 a bar mitvah attendee, so I was asked which type of popcorn I would like. I chose the caramel chocolate of course. It was a better parting gift than the ones our event gave out, which were crappy metal bookplates. Husband was amused and pleased as we munched. A good time was had by all.

Update: Victoria's Secret Suzanne Model

This afternoon as he watched the Jets game, I donned some unflatteringly tight clothing and Husband wrapped me in three tight layers of duct tape. After about 90 minutes, he cut me free. Thus far, I am very, very pleased with the results. I need to buy more poly-fil stuffing tomorrow, and Victoria's Secret Suzanne Model will be ready for her sexy debut on Tuesday.

I think we will finally find the frightening answer to the Victoria's Secret age old question: "What is Sexy?"

Cackle cackle cackle.

No Way!!!!

If you use gmail as I do, you probably noticed that little ads and links appear on the sides and top of your monitor that are semi-related to what you email about. This is scary, but that's not my point. Usually ignore all that, but today as I checked my email, I noticed this link out of the corner of my eye:
Donkey Punch Clothing - donkeypunchclothing.com/ - Donkey Punch Clothing has Donkey Punch hats, and t-shirts.

Hilarious. Almost as hilarious as CUSS thongs,but also far more disturbing. Incidentally, I love how the "Made in the USA" label appears next to the thong's crotch.

If You Link to It, They Will Come (or Cum? Gross!)

Yesterday I had about 500 hits from people looking for Britney Spear’s waxed-but-stubbly beaver. Honestly, it sort of creeps me out. Not to worry, though – no one stayed to read the rest of my rants. It was all wham, bam, thank you for the link ma’am!

On another waxed snatch topic, I decided that while “slit and slat” is still a funny way to describe a Brazilian wax job, I like “snatch and hatch” much better. I already submitted “slit and slat” to UrbanDictionary for consideration, but I shall also go forth with “snatch and hatch.” When I submitted my first suggestion, I also signed up to receive their word of the day. This should bring many fractured gems to my inbox; blood diamonds of a different type, if you will.

As I was telling Husband about my new terms for Brazilian waxing, he reminded me that some time ago I came up with a great new comedy show. It’s about a waxing salon that opens in a war-torn area of the Middle East to help Westernize the women and “empowers” them. Much If set in Palestine, the salon (and show) will be called The Gaza Strip. If set in Iraq, it will be The Sunni Triangle. Side-splitting, is it not? What scares me a bit is that I could almost see a network thinking it would be a good idea, sort of like that awful show about Whoopi Goldberg running a hotel. I forgot what that was called.

Sadly, I myself must face the blade later today. Husband and I are going to his alumni dance tonight. It’s fancy and shit, so I gotta look respectable. That means no tufts of pit hair hanging out of my gown. Fortunately, I don’t have to bother with the wookie-like hair on my legs, as whichever bridesmaid dress I wear (either from Sister’s wedding or Elli’s wedding, depending on which looks less bulgy on me) will be ankle length.

Also, I hope to construct my Victoria’s Secret body double today, but it may need to wait until tomorrow. Either way, hilarious pictures of the process and final product will be shared.

Give the Gift of CUSS This Holiday!

Seriously, Campaign for Unshaved Snatch (CUSS) t-shirts, sweatshirts, mugs, bags, and of course, undies (even thongs!) are now available to buy at the CUSS Store at Cafepress! What better way to show your friends and family that you care?
The cheapest t-shirt (shown above) is only $8.99 plus shipping. If that doesn't do it for you, there are lots of other styles. You know you want one.

Don't forget, stickers are still available for free by emailing me at cussandotherrants (at sign) gmail (dot) com.

Stubble Stumble

I swear there is a five o’clock shadow on Ms. Spears’s snatch. Stubble is one of the reasons I fear razors and wax. Forget crotches – I’m talking about legs and pits here. That shit itches as it grows back. It’s bad enough scratch, scratch, scratching your legs all day. Who wants to dig into the Fertile Crescent as it sprouts a new crop of hair?

Some men know what I’m talking about. Thanks to KidKate for the link to back, crack, and sack. Once again, UrbanDictionary.com comes through, providing edification to me and the rest of the masses. Those guys who don’t know the agony of back, crack, and sack but expect their ladies to undergo slit and slat (OK, I just made that term up, but it is slaying me) are unworthy of any poonanie.