After my shower this morning I happily sauntered to my dresser and opened my "intimates" drawer only to discover to my horror that while The Diva in me has been away, the drawer in question has been unceremoniously taken over by... wait for it... can you guess?? ...wait for it... (cue the Friday the 13th music) GRANNY PANTIES!!
It seems these evil things have been killing, maiming, consuming and/or otherwise raping and pillaging my other undergarments right into extinction.
After some intense hand to hand combat, I was able to fight them off and rescue my final pair of black bikini underwear which I immediately donned under my cute new jeans and sweater combo before I fled the war theater to the armory in search of the combat gear needed to fend off this unfortunate overtaking of Diva territory by these evil invaders.
I ran up and down the aisles of the armory looking for bear-sized traps, RPGs, grenades, punji sticks, landmines... anything that would assist me in the horrible ensuing skirmish awaiting my return to enemy territory.
I have drawn up my battle plan and am hiding behind the door of my office with my combat gear readying my courage to return to the war theater of my walk-in closet. I have written my will and attached it to a love letter to my husband and children in the event of my unfortunate demise.
I will deploy to the volatility of my underwear drawer and face the enemy occupiers with an RPG and rocket launcher, a long stick(for removal of the carcasses), a brown paper grocery bag (for interment of said carcasses), a Bic lighter (for cremation of said carcasses), and some reinforcements consisting of 8 fashionable replacement soldiers who will hopefully survive the battle with me and supply the area with the requisite 4 Cs of coverage, comfort, cute factor, colorfulness, and also add a dash of femininity.
Wish me luck!
If I'm not back tomorrow... call the U.S. Embassy.
The Diva
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