That's my grandma, pondering the thong underwear she received at her bachelorette party last week. It said something in rhinestones on the front, um, crotchal area, but I've blocked it. She's wearing my mother's wedding veil from 1971 and a pink feather boa. Couldn't you just scoop her up on a biscuit?
The worst things I did this Christmas include subsisting without power when it was zero degrees outside and the world was frozen solid, and deal with some very Jerry Springer meets after school special family moments which I'll be recounting only to my therapist.
Three days of employment remain.