Say THAT five times fast. Anyway, am I the only one who had a terribly silly Auntie refer to her kids’ naughty bits as their “shame shame”? Thankfully, my parents always said, “that…you know…” while vaguely nodding in my midsection’s general direction or “kundi“, which is optimal compared to what Silly-Auntie called it. Way to instill healthy feelings about one’s body, there. Obviously anything labeled “shame” is going to be thought of positively. Oh, wait. We’re desi. My bad.
Aside: At one of the best Kahani workshops ever hosted in DC, somehow one of the writing exercises (d)evolved in to a brief discussion of what one was taught to call their “shame shame”, after Turbanhead’s adorable youngest sibling read aloud her draft, which mentioned how she referred to that area as…wait for it…wait for it…
…her happy-no-no place.
Ah, I love wannabe fiction writers and their fantastically fecund minds.
I swear I had a point…but it’s Friday and I’ve missed happy hour…what…was…I…OH YES! Shamita. Dear sweet Shamita. Shamita whom I had never heard of before yesterday, who is younger sister to the woman whose effigy was still a top-seller, as of last week. I’m referring to Big Brother star and Richard Gere-magnet Shilpa Shetty, of course.
Well, Shamita pulled a Britney, though in my day, it was called a Basic Instinct. She showed up somewhere all of two of you care about in a mini-dress without her chuddies on (Thanks, UberDesi). That’s the big deal. Hahaha. Now you know. Yo slick, blow.
While you do that, I’m going to ponder whatever happened to Bel, Biv and DeVoe and whether one should trust a big butt and a smile (I’m inclined to say yes, but I’m biased). Happy Weekend, y’all.