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Desperate Working Mommas
Your one-stop site for fanatical television snarking, questionable political analysis, occasional attempts to address the parenting issues facing working mothers, and halfhearted promises to stop obsessing about the entertainment industry, already! Oh, not to mention the random bitching and moaning. There's always that.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Hey, cheerleaders! HOW DO YOU FEEL?!

Um, horrified, maybe?

Okay, here's the thing. Yes, I was a cheerleader in high school. Yes, I was full of Badger Pride, okay? I'm just putting it out there. If you haven't figured out yet that the whole ex-cheerleader thing was a distinct possibility, then you obviously have not read enough of my blog. Do you have all the jokes out of your system yet? DO you? Yes? Ready? OKAY!

So I was rooting through our attic this morning searching for the "Winter Clothes" box, hopeful of finding my daughter's poncho which she NEEDED because her new pink one felt itchy and kept snagging on the scab on her elbow and probably wouldn't keep her warm enough and totally didn't match her outfit anyway. Huh. Seven years old and already Miss Fashionista.

Sadly, I did not find the poncho, but fortunately I did find a kicky new hoody we had completely overlooked when unpacking. SCORE! I also happened across a huge bin that was chock full of pictures that I will someday use to create elaborate scrapbook pages that will be the envy of all the other Scrapbooking Mommas out there. You know, someday. Like, when I'm 80, at the rate I'm going. Seriously. There are THOUSANDS of pictures in there! The stress.

The ones in particular I zeroed in on were from my years as a PHS Cheerleader. Go Badgers! (Gah. It's reflex even still. Sorry.) Now don't think I was all vain and shizz and made my parents come to the games and snap picture after picture after picture of me performing. No, indeed. To the best of my knowledge, my parents never snapped a shot. Not one. I don't know why. Maybe they were watching the game? Or I forbade them? I can't remember. But, whatev. SO not important right now.

What IS important is that as I browsed through these pictures, I recalled this kindly old man who sat front and center at every game, yes sirree, Bob, every damn game-- be it football, basketball, whatever--and he had the 80's equivalent of a Big-A Mother eFfing camera, oh, yes he did. And he would just snap away throughout the game-- sideline chants, time-out cheers, halftime performances, the works-- and on Monday morning our cheer coach would have envelopes just FULL of pictures for each and every one of us. Seriously. Envelopes. With our names on them. Neatly sorted pictures. For free. It was AWESOME! I mean, FREE PICTURES!! Right? None of us knew who the hell this guy was, but we didn't care. FREE! PICTURES! For which we paid no money and could keep!

Looking back, I think it's a little creepy. Maybe WAY creepy. All right, maybe MAD WICKED creepy.

See for yourself. (I don't have a scanner so these are pictures of pictures. But I think you will get the gist.)

Exhibit A:
Aw. How cute. (I'm in the middle.) Nothing creepy here, you say? Except that I look EXACTLY THE SAME NOW as I did when I was 15? Almost 20 years ago?! Okay. That IS creepy. Moving on...

Exhibit B:

Not too bad, I guess. I was a gymnast. I flipped around. Um, a LOT. In leotards. It was part of the gig. Shameless, I know. (Look how short those boys' basketball shorts are! Woo-WHEE!)

Exhibit C:

Okay, hmmm. Good catch there, old dude. I mean, my eyes are closed and everything, but maybe that's not what you were looking at?

Exhibit D:
Wow. It's true what they say. Flashbulbs DO make clothes look see-through! Noted.

Exhibit E:
Yep. Here's the money shot. Back then, I was all, "Ooooh, look at that extension! Gnarly!" Now? I'm leaning more towards a "Holy MOTHER of HEAVEN! Coooooooootch!" type of reaction. There are SEVERAL more just like this one, by the way, of me and my co-cheerleaders. Say it with me now: FREAK!

So I ask you. Was this (A) a nice elderly gentlemen bringing joy to young girls by taking and personally developing hundreds of pictures-- at a great cost to himself in both time and money, I am sure--every single week, rain or shine, out of the goodness of his heart? Or (B) MAD CREEPY OLD DUDE using his own copies of these cootchie shots for his own icky, personal perverted pleasure?! HUH?! I mean, if we had the internet back then, I betcha we would have totally been featured weekly on some "Hot Hot Hot Underage Cheerleaders!" website!! ! Oh NO! Maybe there are old black-market porno mags out there with me in them!! What if THERE ARE?!! There TOTALLY COULD BE!! OH MY GAWSH! And EW!

Call me cynical, but I am going with Option B.

link | posted by Cat at 7:38 AM


13 Comments:
Blogger Circus Kelli commented:

I think "B".

Definitely, B.

» 9/28/2005 8:51 AM 
Anonymous Di commented:

Okay. That is way scary, but probably true. Pervert!

» 9/28/2005 9:03 AM 
Blogger Nessa commented:

I SOOOOOOO want to think A, but it's, sadly, probably B!

» 9/28/2005 9:11 AM 
Blogger Ern commented:

I really want to think A. But I am cynical. Probably it was B. At least you have your clothes on! I mean, you wear less than that at the beach, right?

And PS, I was NOT AT ALL prepared for 80s hair this morning!

» 9/28/2005 10:20 AM 
Blogger Cat commented:

Oh, Ern... you call THAT 80's hair? Oh, ho, ho... Man oh man! Can I show you 80's hair! But Di might kill me, as she is prominently featured in most of my high school pictures...

» 9/28/2005 10:26 AM 
Blogger LadyBug commented:

Oh, he was bringing joy to someone, alright.

The good news: If he was OLD DUDE back then, he might be dead by now.

The bad news: one word - NEGATIVES.

» 9/28/2005 10:32 AM 
Blogger mrtl commented:

Totally B.

» 9/28/2005 10:37 AM 
Blogger WILLIAM commented:

The Old Dude probably lost his wife and daughter in a horrific accident. He was loney. His daughter was a cheerleader (she was buried in her cheerleading costume Yes I said costume). He most likely could not get over the loss of his cherished princess and wished he had taken more time taking pictures of her doing what she loved to do. With a big yet heavy heart he decides to try and capture cheerleaders that may look like his daughter to frame and use as a shrine in his daughters old bedroom. A bedroom that has not changes since she passed away. It even has the little teddy bears dressed in cheerleader outfits on the pink comforter.
He would lokk at the pictures each night as he would fall asleep mumbling to himself...."Action Action, We want Action. A.C.T (duhn duhn duhn)I.O.N" Or "When I say Podunky, You say Badgers. Podunky!
(Badgers)".

Poor Dirty Old Bastard.

» 9/28/2005 11:26 AM 
Blogger Cat commented:

William wins!

But seriously, man, I do not believe I offered an Option C. Stick to the script.

Wait!... Oh no, you did NOT just call my alma mater "podunky"?! Di! William is casting aspersions!

» 9/28/2005 11:47 AM 
Blogger Charlotte in Pa commented:

Happy Veronica Mars debut night, yo! Oh - and GO BEAVERS! Or Badgers... whatever. Creepy old dude.

» 9/28/2005 11:52 AM 
Blogger Michele in Michigan commented:

Just be glad you didn't realize the answer was "B" back THEN!

» 9/28/2005 1:16 PM 
Blogger Vajana commented:

Gimme a B!

Gimme a B!

Gimme a P...E...R...V...E.....

» 9/28/2005 4:57 PM 
Anonymous kalki commented:

Wow william, now THAT is a backstory!! I'm impressed, dude.

And I am sooo jealous of you, cat. I can't flip or extend or nuthin'. I can't even touch my frickin' toes. (But then hey, at least no pervy old man ever took crotch shots of me...)

» 9/29/2005 6:49 AM 

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