Moobys

Well it seems Cardiff may be getting a Hooters. For those who aren’t aware ‘Hooters’ is an American chain bar/restaurant where all the waitresses look like playboy bunnies and wear very tight t-shirts over their very large boobies. According to the man behind the bar the orange hot pants and low cut tops are a “wholesome, cheerleader look”. So the scantily clad hostesses aren’t meant to titillate men? Bet you’re disappointed eh? 

To be honest, the bar doesn’t bother me. As an ample bosomed girl I welcome the career opportunity (unfortunately as well as ample bosom I happen to possess ample, arse, thighs & belly so on second though, maybe not for me eh!).

Cardiff as a city already has several strip clubs pole dancing clubs, a topless snooker hall and a club that offers ‘Naked Tuesdays’ for your weeknight entertainment, I don’t think Hooters is going to mean much of a moral decline for the city, it’s just a more commercial venture than most.

There was of course a protest at the prospect of the new bar but as far as I can see it consisted of a couple of ladies and a few men who clearly have never seen boobs in the first place. Harsh of me I know but surely they could see their protest wasn’t going to go too well!

If I don’t object you might be wondering why I’m bothering to blog about it. Well, the reason is simple. During a discussion with some friends about the opening we decided that a female alternative to the bar was in order. If hooters can provide some ‘wholesome’ eye candy for the boys, why can’t we have a ‘wholesome’ bar for the ladies?

The problem is though, what exactly is the female alternative to a titty bar?

Topless men? To be fair, you don’t need to go too far out of your way to see that now do you? I walked past some 17 year old reed this morning with his shirt off despite it being 08.00 in the morning and barely ten degrees.

Tight pants? Well it’s an option but really I think some bloke waltzing around with his bulge on display might put me of my dinner. Besides, Cardiff can be a cold city, have a heart.

Generally good looking men? I’d be up for that but as a general rule; women tend not to eat when attractive men are around so as a business venture it’s probably not the best move. Also as my many previous posts on my flurry of crushes suggests, good looking is a very subjective thing.

I do have a solution in my mind however, how about a bar full of men in suits? I have a weakness for sharply dressed men and if their wearing the right aftershave I might well pay good money to have them wait on me. My friend vetoed this idea so I’m guessing it’s not one for all the ladies.

My husband rather gleefully pointed out that technically the female alternative to Hooters would be men with big moobs in tight t-shirts. Somehow that substitution just doesn’t seem fair! I would like to add that during this discussion my husband also decided that to add to the ‘friendly’ atmosphere of the Hooters brand the ladies should rub your tummy for you once you’ve finished your meal. How sweet!

Well it seems I’m at a loss. The men have their Hooters and us poor women can carry on being served by Joe Blogs in his jeans and scruffy shirt. It’s ok though, Joe’s jeans will undoubtedly show of his cute arse and then there’s that little smile of his. Hmm maybe us girlies aren't as hard done by as it first seems.

The Great Big Welly Hunt

Well you'll never guess what?  I'm actually going on holiday.  Ok it may only be 2 days in a cottage in the Brecon Beacons but hey, it's a bloody holiday and one that is long overdue.

In case you are wondering why I'm so excited about 2 days away, I have to put it in context.  Apart from long weekends to see my family I haven't had an actual holiday in over 6 years.  Yes that's right . . . SIX YEARS.  Even then that last holiday was with my Hubby (then boyfriend), Mum, Dad, Sister, soon to be brother in law, Granny, Aunt & Cousin.  Now as much as I enjoyed myself and love my family that is not exactly a relaxing romantic retreat.  

This time my husband and I are going away with friends.  So while the romantic retreat idea is off the cards at least there will be wine, food and good company.  I am going to be one happy camper.  Well it might be more accurate to say I am going to be one happy, muddy camper.  You see I'm having a bit of an outdoor dilemma.  It appears that as a *cough* curvaceous *cough* lady I'm not supposed to wear wellington boots. 

While the world is currently awash with funky wellies, wedge wellies, sexy lace up wellies and God knows what else, I can't seem to get a single pair that fit my calves!  My problem is simple.  I have fat legs.  Not freakishly large but certainly dainty calves is not something that my family suffers from so finding wellies is proving impossible.  Surely I'm not the only person in the world to have this problem?  Others must suffer too?  I feel let down by the Outdoor shopping world.  How am I supposed to get active and venture forth if I can't get the footwear to do so?  

The truth of the matter is wellies are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to activity based clothing.  How are fat people meant to lose weight if we can't get the correct exercise clothing.  I still have nightmarish recollections of trying to find a sports bra to fit my rather ample bosom.  Many shops and £40 later I did manage to find one that wouldn't look out of place on Mrs Doubtfire.  Swimsuits cause a similar problem.  While I can walk into almost any high street shop and find a swimsuit to suit my body, the second my boobs enter the equation, you can forget it!   If I want a swimming costume that will stay on my boobs (which oddly enough, I do) then I have to go to the Bravissimo's and Leia's of the world and give £50 to a manufacturer who has caught on to the fact that women have breasts.  It's shocking how many retailers seem to have forgotten that fact.

Back to wellies though.  I've decided that if they don't make boots to fit me then I'm going to have to do it myself.  I am going to buy the cutest pair I can find and cut them down to ankle wellies.  A stylish choice I think.  Who wants to wear big rubber boots anyway?  I know I'll be happy frolicking around in my rubber booties.  Besides I don't think I can face the humiliation of trying on any more pairs!  

Look out people, rubber booties will be all the rage next year.  You heard it here first!  In the meantime get a look at these . . . .

 

  
Rubber jelly shoes with a heel.  Really?  What occasion could ever warrant these monstrosities.  I'm at a loss!

The End Of A Rather Entertaining Era

Well what can I say, I'm changing jobs once again. I know that's the life of a temp but still, it means a new set of colleagues & more frighteningly in this case, a headset! Still, I do seem to settle in quickly enough in most assignments & feel like an old hand in no time.

My latest role has had some fairly original moments that I feel my new role will possibly lack.

Highlights have included babysitting an egg wrapped in blankets of tissue, studying a shockingly wide assortment of stab wounds & trying to fathom how anyone could feel it's appropriate to get your boobs out in a reception area "for an airing"! Oh and add to that a robbery which resulted in having my finger prints taken by a genuine CSI agent (it said so on his fleece) & I think you will understand my hesitation in moving on.

So future friends & colleagues, you have a lot to live up to & if i start doing anything deemed 'inappropriate', go easy on me. It's been an interesting few months.