This morning T-Bone and I were leaving Tim Horton’s (I needed a muffin in the worst way) when, coming the other way down the street, is this alarming-looking woman and her twinkie boyfriend. I say “alarming-looking” because she was wobbling on platform shoes, seeking stability from wobbly & twiggish legs, peering through so much makeup that she resembled the antique dolls my mother once played with and fighting the wind resistance her hair was putting up. But what caught T-Bone’s eye at first were the tits. Barely encased in the zip-up shirt she wore, they caught the eye of every sighted person in the immediate area. Truly, if the Hood had sported bow guns such as these the Bismarck would never have sunk her. I was a little surprised that T-Bone saw them before I did, but being at eye-level she had an advantage. I barely got a look at them — again, surprising; I normally actively search these items out — but I couldn’t stop looking at the technicolor car wreck of a face that she wore.

Her twinkie boyfriend was showing her off like a prize he’d won at the fair (wouldn’t it be delicious irony if he won her by popping balloons?), but he wasn’t much classier…I’m guessing he does his shopping at “Wifebeaters & Bling R Us”.

So, we would’ve had a giggle (T-Bone said, “Oh yeah, those are real” as we walked toward them) and not thought much of it, but for the fact that at lunch, in line at Green Mango, there they stood…ol’ Bling & Bow Guns themselves. He barked orders at the servers, she squeaked hers. Every person in the place stared alternately at her plunging cleavage and her Vulcan Mask Of Makeup ™…everyone except the servers that is. They’re used to strippers from the Brass Rail coming in each night for dinner. I can only assume this young lady was headed there herself for the 2:00 shift. Remind me not to go for the lunch buffet anytime soon.

Dammit, why can’t we see Salma Hayek coming out of Tim Horton’s!?!?