Engorged…or Georged

I can’t quite believe I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m excited when a male I’ve known less than a month defecates in my lap while mauling my left nipple.

THIS is why I never did drugs, people.  Life is weird enough.

I woke up this morning….rephrase….one of the times I woke up this morning, I was completely distracted by my rock hard boobs and crooked nipples.  Suddenly my bedroom transformed into a frame from a comic book where the giant “BLAM!” that usually obscures a hero punching someone in their chiseled jaw was replaced with the word “ENGORGED.”

Interwebz, I think that might be the single grossest word ever.  Say it a few times.  It even makes your mouth feel full, am I right?

Try it again.

You gagged a little, didn’t you?

It’s not any better when used in reference to schlongs, either.  The quickest way to make me put down a bodice ripper is to insert the words “engorged manhood” anywhere in the text.  Not that I read grocery porn.  Ever.  I’m all about the fine literature.

Like Twilight.

Where were we?  Ah yes, engorged.  Not a great place to be.

And due to my sleep deprived state I keep typing engeorged.  Which might be even weirder.  Because now I can’t look at my boobs without seeing two, round, bald, George Costanza heads.  Which may well have made the word even grosser.  And also let’s make grosser a word STAT.

Disclaimer: That’s not me.  That’s Katy Perry.  I’m sure for an instant you thought for certain those were my abs, but no.  I can easily see how you were mistaken.

Now I’m distracted by thoughts of other Georges.  Could they all be swollen boobs?  If only I had more free time.  And free boobs.

If Ms. Perry-Brand actually had engeorged tits, they’d probably be this George.

…and when she gets old, it’ll be this George.


  1. Crooked nipples, huh? Sounds like something you’d call a plumber to fix. If you’d straighten those out, maybe you wouldn’t be so engorged.

  2. I can’t wait until you miss the two hour *evacuate all public places* deadline where you let down in the company of strangers and soak them fire hose style with breastmilk.
    Also, why is Katy Perry all wet and running a relay race?

        1. Totally stole my comment, yo. And upped the motherfucking ante with a video, even. Somewhere inside this comment I became Snagglepuss from the Laff-Olympics. *exit, stage right*

  3. Also, if you change the word defecate to urinate in the first paragraph I’ve totally done that.

  4. The last Georges will be streched to her knees.

    And try putting cabbage leaves in your bra. No, this isn’t a joke. Google it.

  5. Ah yes. I was an overproducer. On the other hand, I loved shooting my husband and, later the older children, in the eyes with this double-gauge weaponry. Yowsa!

    Um … so if it becomes out of control like mine was, consider investing in the cup thingies that Avent makes. They cost a small fifedom, but if you can afford them you’ll love me later.

    Also. Always look for those lumpies before they get too big. Because mastitis is the one word that is infinitely worse than engorged. Trust me, and I didn’t even get sick from it, just had the edge. As soon as I knew I might be (lack of sleep, forget which boob he last fed on, maybe got bumped on the boob a bit, whatever) I would have a hot bath, pump that lumpie out, and GO TO BED. I don’t give a rats ass how disastrous you might think your kitchen/hallway/bath is, curing mastitis the fast way (see above) is way waaaaay easier than the other. Like I say, I only had the edge of it, but looking over the precipice (and three sisters who had the tendency to skip the get better part) scared the bra right offa me.

    xox truuuuust meeeeeeee. And shoot your guy in the eye. For laughs.

  6. Elly, I love you. I am off to the neurologist, then I am stopping to find you some sort of normal, non-breast related gift. I will send it your way to remind you there is still an Elly in there that isn’t being sucked out through those lovely crooked nipples! XOXO

  7. After the birth of my third child, one of my glands still produced milk. FOR YEARS. It wasn’t much, but Lordy, can you imagine if you turned into a permanent two legged Bossie the Cow? Think about that. Then think about it again. You can’t think about it too much.

  8. I used bags of frozen peas to bring down the swelling. Never stand boob first in the hot shower. Um, what else? Oh… you can refreeze the peas, but I’d recommend tossing them when they’ve gone a few rounds. 🙂

  9. Did I tell you I have a lesbian crush on Katy? And you just ultra-primed my boob fantasies of her, so thanks. Good luck with your boulders, lady. You know I went into that with enough real estate already. Wasn’t a good time.

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