Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

In trouble at Victoria's Secret

So, being that it's Christmas and all, and me being me -- classic procrastinator -- time then to hit the shopping mall and begin my gift shopping. How to combine this painful experience with some fun? Simple: buy everything at Victoria's Secret.

I've been in there when nubility and pulchritude, losing their collective minds amongst all the frilly delicates, have actually tried things on outside the dressing rooms. Score! There's nothing better than standing quietly in the corner of Vicky's (that's what I affectionately call the place) while women like Marrisa Miller (at left) pop in and out of bustierres and thongs, all the while squealing to their friends "does this make me look fat"? Answer: um, no, Marissa, you're not looking fat. Even hot straight girls wanna do you, you little myx, you. And I wanna watch, btw.

Once again, though, I'm veering from my story.

Big question of the night: what to buy my mother? Now, some people would think shopping for mummy's gifts at Victoria's Secret is a little....pervy....but I'm not some people. Plus, mother just got married again, and given her advanced age I figure whatever I can do to spice up the bedroom for her and the new hubby is a good thing. There's only so much "heat" you can generate when the decor de boudoir is courtesy of American Discount Home Medical Equipment.

So a quick trip to Vicky's for dear old mum. Trouble is, she's off in Branson with hubby right now, taking in the sights plus the odd Osmond Brothers show. So I couldn't be sure that what I bought would be the right size, and stuff. What to do, what to do?

Solution! There, shopping alongside her great-granddaughter, was a lady of a certain age. Eyeing her, I thought: shit, she's about mother's size. So, nicely and politely and all, and not trying to be weird or anything, I approached her:

Nigel: Excuse me madam, merry Christmas and all that, could I impose on you for a favour?
Lady: Certainly, young man.
N: My mum's in Missouri and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind trying on some things for me, like a mega-shmega thong and bra set, in the spirit of the holidays? You could go back and forth, back and forth between the floor and the dressing room, and sorta show me how things look, and then I'd be able to get her the gifts. What do you say?

After the police came, things got a little hectic, but on the way out I managed a few choice words directed particularly at the store manager--I yelled at her that I wouldn't be shopping at Vicky's anymore no matter what and that also Marissa Miller is a lesbian ..which, come to think of it...hmmm....I still wanna watch. Perv that I am. Just a tiny bit.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 5:40 AM