ATTACK OF THE CHICKEN CUTLETS

I have been receiving a lot of questions; questions along the lines of, “What do I do if the boy I’m sleeping with pukes on me?” or “How do I maintain a stable relationship?” But I am going to be a naughty advice columnist and ignore those for now (sorry ladies), and give you a little advice about bras.

I do not care if you buy your bras from Victoria Secret or Wal-Mart, but please, on my behalf do not purchase the self-adhesive strapless bras. If you do buy them, prepare yourself for ultimate humiliation, and personally I think they look just like chicken cutlets. So here is my beef with the chicken cutlets.

After a strenuous week of school work, the girls and I hit up a club. Now, the dress that I was wearing could not be worn with a regular strap bra, so I had to refer to my stick-on adhesive chicken cutlets.

We eventually get to the club, and we are having a spectacular time, and I am of course dancing away like a diva on the dance floor. People are everywhere and the place is jam packed. All of a sudden one of the cutlets falls to my belly button, and then the other shortly follows. I throw my hands to my chest and check the room to see if anyone is looking, and of course a dozen people saw. Just my luck.

Now, I have 2 choices. One; leave the dancing slash lose my girlfriends and two; ditch the cutlets. Option two sounded better. There I am, trying to act all nonchalantly as I released the cutlets from my pretentious grip, and they drop to the floor, falling down my dress. However, I am stuck in a pickle again because there are these 2 cutlets on the dance floor and they are bright. I mean, they stuck out. If you saw them on the floor you would be like damn, who is roasting a chicken tonight?

I blame the dirty deed on my BCBG shoes and kick them to the side, and then grab my girlfriends hand and drag her away from the crime scene. Just as I kick them away from me, I catch this man staring at me. I almost died (and let’s get one thing straight, these things ARE NOT easy to kick away. They stuck to the floor every time they rolled over. And to make it worse, they jiggled like jell-o). I stare at him for a good minute and mouth, "Don't you even dare tell." He then looks down and the cutlets are right by his feet. I made a quick dash to the other side of the room.

I am just dying to see the reaction of the janitor when he gets a load of those. Hopefully he doesn't try and feed his family with them, because he'll be eating a big roast of fake titties.

So my advice to all of you ladies who like to go out and wear strapless adhesive bras, please don’t or you will be living my chicken cutlet nightmare all over again.