I’m from Wisconsin, and I oughta know! We don’t wear shorts! Come on! Capris are daring enough. We have plenty of mosquitoes in Wisconsin. Then, there’s that cottage cheese thigh cellulite, Cheese Head’s country cousin.

Honestly, what was there to do last winter in Wisconsin besides sit on our butts at Bunny’s Tap and drink? You tell me if you have a better idear for winter time in Wisconsin. It’s kind of athletic, too, in that you can drive your snowmobile from tap to tap. No one cares what your thighs look like THEN, Mean Girl. It’s fun, and it consumes long evenings and your liver. Sometimes, someone even has an accident. Runs down a fence, or something.

So, here I am, set down magically in Scottsdale, Arizona, the Land of Enhancement; Like Dorothy in the Wizard, but she was from Kansas.
EVERYone wears shorts. It’s actually too hot even for good ol’ reliable capris.

So, I’m looking for shorts. Let’s see……these look like they were sewn especially for pygmies from rain forest materials. If I bend over, they will provide a sexy view of my butt cheeks.
Uh…….no. A thousand times no! My mother would be aghast…..and the view would not be booty-licious, trust me on that one.
So, let’s cruise on.

And these. Daisy Dukes! People look good in these. Chicks in Scottsdale strut around in them all the time. Fifty percent of human-kind looks twice at these chicks.
Um…….the slightest hint of cottage cheese though, and I can bet the ump calls a strike. So I’m not going there….
And this rack…….sheesh. Don’t wear colored undies with these babies. Which is all I have, unless I find all the undies that decided to divorce me and hide behind the dryer. So….let’s see……..

And now, these are perfect! Almost capris, with a little stripe…..OMG! I’m in the maternity section!
Now you see what I’m up against, my friend.

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