Since I no longer receive the local newspaper (over a hundred dollars for a daily subscription and the paper just keeps getting thinner and thinner) I read the columnists online. At ArcaMax.com.
Well, this morning's Dear Abby had a letter in it that made me laugh. The last one, the one from the man who'd been married thirty-three years and found a pair of panties of his wife's that had "Booty Call" written on the butt. He's concerned.
Now, if I had a pair of undies like that (and we've been married twenty-eight years), you can bet one of my female friends gave it to me as a joke gift. And the reason it was still in my drawer was because, even though I'd never, ever wear something like that, I'd feel guilty throwing it away.
Then I got to thinking about the whole booty call thing.
And I came to the conclusion that my booty has its own area code.
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