Once you pass 40, your boobs don’t get as much attention as
they used to, especially if you still have your original equipment. So today
was a big day for the girls! It is my
boobs’ day to shine! Went to get my gram on – my mammogram. Sure, there were no wolf whistles or teeth
sucking but at a certain point beggars can’t be choosers and I’ll happily settle
for a middle aged gal with a gentle voice and warm hands.
Ironically boob jokes and
Silkwood jokes do NOT kill at the radiology center. Gonna drop some dick jokes next year. Gotta keep trying ‘till I hit. I wonder if in they break room they classify
their tasks? Like if it’s an older lady do they call it a “gramogram” or for
men is it called a “manogram”, do fancy gals get a “glamogram”? Unrelated
thought, tangrams are both fun and frustrating.
Anyway I’m in the room, contorting myself to get the gals
into the machine and the tech, noticing my sporty attire, says to me:
“So are you coming from, or going to, the gym?”
And I said (enthusiastically) “Neither, I’m just….. ready for anything”
Tech: “So, you stay at home with your kids.”
(dejected) “Yeah. You
got me pegged.”
In any event it went fine, a little turn and squish and hold
your breath and turn and squish and hold your breath, although the whole
experience left me feeling a bit flat. (cue rimshot) Total time from when I
left my house, 1 hour.
PSA Portion: Ladies,
go get your mammogram. If you are reading this there is a high likelihood that
I like you a lot and want you around for a long time. Fellas, make sure you keep on top of your
tackle. A little bit of dignity is a
small price to pay for good health and frankly, it keeps you humble. So go ahead, #Getyourgramon
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