I Know a Secret!

Have you ever found yourself in possession of a bizarre nugget of information that defies categorization?

What if this oddly intriguing but toe curling bit came to you by the most covert and bizarre means imaginable?
Say for instance that some unknowing soul had the misfortune of sitting on their phone and butt dialing you while information clearly not intended for your ears filtered through the receiver, unbeknownst to the person whose ass had just helped you become privy to some of their darkest secrets.

Do you keep listening?

What do you do with all this naughty juicyness?
Since you are essentially a fly on the wall in this case scenario and by no means meant to hear these words do you act on them?

Pretend they don’t exist?
What if they shift the axis of the earth you know so well?

What if this person was never what they seemed?

This opens up a whole new set of windows into a dimension previously unexplored by you, the voyeur.
Now that you are in on the secret can you quietly smile to yourself when you want to yell out everything you’ve heard in a cathartic release?

To be honest I’ve been the recipient of many drunk dials, and riveting phone conversations during my short life so not much on the other end of the receiver is shocking to me anymore, but wow.

Just Wow.

Talk about a surprise.

It’s like when I found out after  several years of suspicion that my husband was an ass man and NOT a boob guy as  previously thought.

Do you know how devastating it is to spend countless hours employing preventive measures to counter gravity only to find out you should have worked hard on your buttocks instead of your ta ta’s? Not that is was all for naught, as I still get the occasional appreciative perusal of my less than impressive rack, but still.

I get more applause coming than I do going.

Anyway, with each dawning day I learn something new and with that revelation I will be heading into the kitchen to make myself a generous helping of Ben & Jerry’s Vanilla Caramel Fudge ice cream while letting go of the dream of a firm taught behind.

Advertisements

39 Comments

Filed under afternoon time wasters, alternate reality, are you kidding?, blogging for amateurs, boobs, buffoonery, butt dialing your cell phone, maybe?, secrets

39 responses to “I Know a Secret!

  1. Hmmm… We’re going to need a photo of that caboose before any judgements can be made. Fair is fair.

  2. Tom G.

    It’s OK. It’s not really a secret that Stewart Copeland is gay. We’ve just been afraid to tell you for fear of how you’d handle it. I hope there are no sharp objects nearby…

    • Dufmanno

      HERESY!!!!!!
      Stewart likes the ladies. Not that batting for the other team is any kind of issue but I’d like to think that had I not been underaged & sporting kneesocks and pigtails I might have had a chance.
      Stewart, call me.

  3. THAT WAS NOT ME. Yes, someone was slurring the words to a Rod Stewart classic at the karaoke bar last night after we chatted but it WAS NOT ME. The end.

    • dufmanno

      You know, I always thought you did protest too much like the little boy who talks about how much he detests the little girl who sits in front of him so he pulls her hair and hits her.
      Rod is your sad little girl with a sore scalp and teary eyes.

  4. Agatha82

    I’m still pondering the idea of how someone could dial a phone with their butt. That in itself sounds very interesting and frightening….(how I love the word “butt” better than our English “bum”)

    Oh god, I’m stuck in a “Police time warp”, between my post about Synchronicity and more talk of Stewart Copeland and now you give me no choice but to go watch a Sting video from ’87 where he looks beautiful.

    I want the Sting version from 1987 with the longer hair. I’d like that for Xmas ha ha

    • dufmanno

      1987 Sting has unnerving smugness wafting off of him so I might choose 1981 Air Studios in Monserrat Sting minus all the coke fueled rage.

      • Agatha82

        Hmmm…you do have a good point there (but the ’87 version had such nice hair…sigh)

        The 1981 version was rather violent indeed (to have been a fly on the wall during those studio fights where him and your beloved came to blows)

  5. you can tell me. it’s unlikely that i know the person who made the call or the people involved. and i just love juicy. except when it appears on someone’s butt, cuz i’m boob girl. and yours are from being “not impressive.”

    • dufmanno

      My boobs thank you and they’ve stood up to salute your kindness.
      I suddenly suspect there are about fourteen different people looking at their phones today to see if they made any calls they don’t remember. One of them is shitting their pants.

  6. When I have that kind of information on someone, I know I should TRY to be the bigger person and not broadcast it. Oh, but it itches till it burns. And then I just tell one trustworthy person and pass the responsibility to them.

    • dufmanno

      I like to mull it over awhile and giggle followed by an intense period of frowning and eye rolling.
      Then I contemplate telling them I know all about these things and suddenly change my mind.
      Then a shiny object passes by and I follow it out of the room forgetting everything I’ve done previously like a befuddled kitten with bad eyesight.
      Wait, what was I saying?

  7. C’mon. Tell me. I promise I won’t say a word. Be your best friend.

  8. Ry Sal

    Mr. Stanley’s porn collection was a little unnerving..

    • dufmanno

      Wait…huh? I still have hysterical feline blindness from that shiny object and I can’t dig deep enough to pull out the reference.

  9. Do you know something about Brad and Angelina? You don’t have to say anything. Just wink or cough if you do.

    And my husband is all about the boobs. It kind of scares me.

    • dufmanno

      Someday, if all goes according to plan, I will announce what I hope to be the spectacular flame out of Brangelina. In the meantime I will wait patiently to unearth my team Anniston shirt.

      I agree with your husband about the boobs. Mammaries rock.

  10. If you recall – it started with your HAIR. As far as the other bits you mentioned, I love both. And necks, backs, thighs, lips and ears.

    ta

  11. If the above comment was indeed left by your hubby, I cannot follow that one… I don’t want to ruin the moment.

  12. well… I am dying for you to spell the beans?

  13. Sadly, as I do not have you programmed, it wasn’t me. I always laugh hysterically, then call and say, “Okay, what did you hear that made you immediately wish you could bleach your ears?”

    • dufmanno

      Next time you are at Gonzofest with elaborate snake wearing bellydancers I demand that you butt dial me so I can soak up the fun long distance. Otherwise I’m flying down there and insterting my rude self right into your life without advance notice.

      • Well, in that case I refuse to butt dial you, book a flight. I would suggest you notify the rest of the GGB and bring them along! Show up unexpectedly if you wish, I will roll with it!

  14. I’ve just come back to leave another comment because it seemed like it was my turn. Have you seen my keys?

  15. Your hubby makes me believe in polygamy.

    #ThatIsAll #JustSayin

  16. Damn all ass men and their power squat requirements.

    Here I was thinking that the Very Sexy push up bra from old Victoria would be enough to keep em queuing up…

    Fecking stairmaster.

    – B x

    • dufmanno

      Victorias miracle bra makes buoyant cleavage that any romance novel cover would be envious of. I figure once I’ve got him with the high standing eye level rack he never gets a chance at a detailed inspection of my ass.
      It should get easier as his eyesight goes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s