Skip to main content

The Unit


Some call it their private, some their wee (or the repetitive version: wee-wee) and if you're a part of my family...you call it

The UNIT.

Male, Female, makes no difference, you're dealing with The Unit. While the fact that we also call the remote control to the TV a "unit" can be confusing, generally it's a closed case if one can at all decipher context.

In addition to the convenience of a unisex term, The Unit is ALL inclusive; encompassing but not limited to: the female internal organs (in addition to external), the source of all monthly irritability, and life for that matter, the place you're not allowed to kick Dad when you wrestle...all can be simplified as...The Unit.

You can imagine my amusement (or perhaps a more accurate term, immaturity) when the meeting I scribed for all afternoon was about classes and "units."

Really? To get that degree you need 78 UNITS? That sure is a lot. I can barely figure out having one. That's hardcore.

It takes 16 hours for one unit? Yikes.
I've got a lot to learn.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Some may misinterpret the "Unit" at a party with alcohol involved... just sayin

Popular posts from this blog

A Quarter-Century

Today I turned 25. It seemed a little anti-climactic since I've been celebrating for the past 48 hours (life is just so hard). Being that my birthday usually falls on Labor day weekend I tend to do that. I started out Saturday with a typical San Diegan social event...beach followed by bar. Now that I'm OLD, I didn't get drunk and hung-over the next morning, instead I was what one might call balanced and had two margaritas (that were of course purchased for me, gotta love birthdays), an ice cream cone, and a good night's sleep. Holla. Sunday was the fam party which consisted of close friends, fam and OC-tastic BBQin. Since today is a Monday, and NOT Labor Day, it happens to be the first day of school. That may have been a bummer to some but to me all I can say is THANK GOD! A little structure never hurt anybody! Especially a yellow, ESFP, ADHD, Virgo! You'll have to excuse the overload on references...Color Code, Meyers Briggs Personality Test and of course the ...

This ship's about to sail

Here in Man Diego there are a lot of...you guessed it, MEN! I've encountered a few. Although I've made some strides in my effort to leave behind "Blanket Statements" (which ironically can be shortened to B.S.) I still hold onto some of the reasonable ones. We've talked before, well I've written and you've read rather, about dating and the inevitable game of text messaging. Thanks to At&T's unlimited plan I haven't gone completely broke yet. Texting is by far the #1 men's choice for communicating. Those fellas just love it. It's less effort than a call and seemingly more friendly than an email. My point is texting is where it's at. You better believe that if you're in your mid 20's anywhere remotely in the vicinity you will be utilizing this technological beast. I went on a date about 2 weeks ago with a "Nice" guy. Note: "Blog guy" existed somewhere in the middle of nice guy's stint. Remember m...

Which girl are you gonna fluff?

I always envy those sales people who are so enthralled with their product that their enthusiasm nears eerie. After being fitted for my latest bridesmaid dress I was told I would be needing a very, very special bra...one nothing less than what can be purchased at The Perfect Fit in Tustin, California. We went to the shop and the saleswoman was one of these folks who LOVES what she sells. I was so blown away by her passion for undergarments that I didn't even catch her name. For now we'll call her the "Bra enthusiast (BE)." BE took me into the antique decorated fitting room. There was one of those old school, fabric stools, which was used to hold my current (and apparently ghetto) bra and a thick velvet curtain used to hide my shirtlessness. BE was very intense. Her bra-related verbiage was spoken with precision and seriousness. This was a no-nonsense matter. She started by measuring me. I asked if she needed me to take off the bra I was wearing, wanting an accurat...