Wardrobe Malfunction

Britney Spears might need to rethink who her peeps are. I'm guessing there are some haters who hang with her as her crew and back-up dancers. The only reason I speculate this is because the poor dear went onstage for a typical pelvic-thrusting, open-legged gyration extravaganza on her tour. Trouble is she forgot to hide a piece of her "womanly attire" and no one bothered to tell her until it was blasted all over YouTube. Britney flashed her dangling tampon string for all of her screaming fans to see. You KNOW at least one or two of those dancers were backstage and saw it.
"Yo', Miss THANG'S string is hanging out!!"
"Sheeeiit! NASTY!... I ain't tellin' her.."
"Fuck it..me neither.. Let's see who's the bitch NOW!"

There is just polite etiquette I think most of us would use in letting a friend, acquaintance, or even stranger know that something is awry. A booger dangling from your schnoz. A piece of spinach stuck between your front teeth. Your skirt tucked up into your panties so your entire left ass cheek is exposed. (Okay that one I might let the person feel the breeze a bit before alerting them to their exposure. I saw an older woman do that and it was funny as shit..) There is nothing more annoying than walking around half the day and finally looking in the mirror and realizing you look like your French-kissed a salad bar. Throw me a freakin' bone here, people!!! A little, "Hey, you got a little something in there.." or "How about a toothpick?" would be nice. Instead I am wearing spinach dentures and you're all getting your kicks from my lack of dental hygiene. Priceless.

What sparked this banter, other than Miss Britney's Playtex String of Wonder dangling, was a visit to my dentist today. He poked and scraped and cleaned and flossed and cleaned my choppers again with that grainy paste that never quite rinses out with that teaspoon squirt of water he shoots in there. I had my blue paper bib on and chatted in between having obscure panels of bite wings jammed into my gums for x-rays. I talked to my dentist and then the receptionist for a few minutes even after my exam. Plenty of time for them to point my schmutz out to me. I stopped through the Starbuck's drive-through for my venti iced coffee and shared polite banter with a barista. Off to Justice I went to buy clothes for the kids with my coupon I miraculously remembered to bring. I talked to no less than three sales associates and four customers (I am a friendly bitch, especially when heavily caffeinated). I asked where the "potty" was (I'm a mom so it's okay to talk like that) and they kindly escorted me to the back room. Upon washing my hands I noticed three giant globules of bright blue minty dentist toothpaste on my cheek and a nice smear on my chin. Hello, Justice sales twats, could you please let me know I look like I'm some crazed bulimic working in the bakery glomming mouthfuls of buttercream frosting on my cupcake icing shift?! Nope. Even though they saw the looming pile of shit I was about to purchase. REALLY?! I wiped the offending toothpaste off my face and made my purchase hastily. I know they were laughing at me. Dirty suburban mom who can't even wash her face.

I don't think I'll ever have a Tara Reid moment where my fresh-from-surgery fun-bag is left to the paparazzi's disposal as my sequin chemise slides off my nipple and in my Vicodin and vodka haze it takes three assistants for me to cover my nip back up. Or who can forget Janet Jackson and Mr. Justin Timberlake at the Superbowl? That was no "wardrobe malfunction". If my shirt ACCIDENTALLY got brushed open by a certain Justin Timblerlake and my dinner plate-sized areola conventiently was bedazzled with a humungous star shaped nipple ring, that's called MEDIA BUZZ FOR A HAS-BEEN POP STAR. C'mon, Janet, you're better than that.

All I'm saying is unless it's some bitch who fired you for photocopying your poon at the office Christmas party or the 21 year-old "secretarial assistant" who doesn't wear a bra and likes to type memos for your hubby at work, then tell us poor souls our shit ain't right! I am serious. It is not embarrassing. It's 100 times MORE embarrassing to discover it later. Tell us to pop that disgusting fucking back zit. Here's a God damn toothpick, did you eat an entire corn field?! You've got something {huge and fucking nasty} on your face. Your hair is sticking up like a Chewbacca boner. You have a giant period stain on your dress, here's my sweatshirt. Have one of my Tuck's medicated ass-wipes because I think you just shit your pants. You have a jiz goatee, please use this Kleenex. There, was that so hard? By the way, you have some spinach in your teeth...