Underwear Crisis - Solved

As usual nothing can go just as smooth as a newborn baby's ass. This whole bridal underwear crisis was starting to wear on me a tad bit.

I had rescheduled with Angenette, the wedding dress alteration lady, for today to begin alterations on my gown. Of course that was assuming that my damn boob liftin, fat squashing chinese torture device arrived in time for me to carry it along to her house.

Did it come? Why, hell no.

Found out when I finally checked my email this morning, that it, in fact, had not even shipped. Found out that OOOPS, it ain't even in stock!!!
Cancel my order! Refund the Georges back to my credit card and piss off!!!

So, me and Olga wisk off to David's Bridal for a fun time trying to shove me into a boned corset. If you've never put one on, I suggest you try it.
It's a delightful little contraption that effectively displaces fat to places it was never intented to be. All the while cutting off all hopes of taking more than a gasp of air at a time.

I have alot of breathing exercises to be performing before I am in this thing for the day. Or like Elizabeth on Pirates I, I shall be passing out and falling off a cliff into the water. Well, maybe nothing that extreme. I'll just pass out and fall at Anthony's feet (hopefully after squeeking out "I do")

Anyway, if nothing else, it should make for good YouTube footage.

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