quick update

My newly-downsized titties are healing nicely (thanks to all who posted good wishes!) The sugery went WELL, and it has been reported (and is now the stuff of legend) that I serenaded my surgeon, anesthesiologist, and assisting nurses with a soulful, inspired rendition of Miss Billie Holliday’s “Ain’t Nobody’s Business” upon receiving that first blissful blast of Demerol through the tubes. I guess I also profusely thanked Mr. Anesthesiologist for “luring me ever so sweetly into the seductive arms of Morpheus.” He has since announced that that will now henceforth be enrgraved upon his business card — where I shall even get a fucking byline for my narcotized literary ramblings.

The only post-op problem seems to be that getting one’s titties cut off might just have been physically traumatizing enough to have launched your very own “Our Lady of Guadalupus” into a flare. My temps have shot up and my skin and joints HOIT. At times I can scarcely stand and deliver. Ah, well…I suppose there is no getting around the notion that beauty is, in fact, pain.

Oh…and I WILL be posting pictures, muthafuckers. I got ovaries of iron, I tell you — and NO SHAME.

In other news, a category 5 hurricane is bearing down on New Orleans, where the dark skies have now opened up and the rain has begun falling — and there are legions of drunken frat boys still partying and staggering down Bourbon Street (good riddance, I say!)…one of whom, when asked by a Fox News reporter what he was still doing there, answered loud and proud to a live international television audience of millions, “It’s none of your fuckin’ business!” Okay, for that I sorta liked him.

And tomorrow night, President George W. Bush will be sleeping like a fucking baby just 3 short blocks from my house. Myself and my Frankentitties WILL be attending the protest and candlelight vigil just outside The Hotel Del. I may even lift my shirt and flash the motorcade as it passes. Wouldn’t that just be THE BEST?

More later. All my love and affection to all my cupcakes out there in Internetland and beyond.

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About muffybolding

Muffy Bolding is a mother/writer/actor/knitter/feminist/withered debutante who likes the smell of asparagus pee, and remains obsessed with the bathroom hygiene of her three children -- despite the fact that they are 23, 19, and 16. She is blissfully married to a cute Jewish boy who looks like Willie Wonka, but remains tragically in love with the dead poet, Ted Hughes. She has the mouth of a Teamster, and her patron saint is Rocco (pestilence relief.) Ms. Bolding lives in Southern California, where she enjoys typing words, making movies, and plucking the rings from the fingers of the dead. She was the co-creator and Editor-in-Chief of the award winning satire zine, Fresno Lampoon, and in between writing screenplays, carnival barking, and savagely threatening her trio of darling larvae with a wooden spoon, she currently publishes the zine, "Withered Debutante." More of her work can also be found in the anthology, "Mamaphonic: Balancing Motherhood and Other Creative Acts", the compilation zine, "Mamaphiles III: Coming Home", as well as in The Cortland Review and hipmama.com. She is currently writing and producing for film and television, and working on a book of essays entitled, "Inside A Chinese Dragon." She has slept around, but not nearly as much as she would have liked.
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