Taco Fever ~ An original piece of work by AGS

taco 1

Taco Fever

Sitting alone in her apartment feigning for her fix,

The rumbling in her tummy is getting really bad,

(maybe if her Friday night included some dix,

not having tacos wouldn’t make her so sad)

*see what I did there? LOL!

Tacos, they call to her like long lost friends,

Will her obsession with them never end?

This piece of crap town can go to hell,

Because my only choice at this hour is Taco Bell.

Girl loves Del Taco,

It’s open all the time,

Only closed 2 days a year making me shout “YOLO!”,

I could do with some Del Taco just fine.




First, let’s define “areola”: a small circular area, in particular the ring of pigmented skin surrounding a nipple.

(I was asked “What is an areola?” when I used the term in a Facebook status)

The areola is basically a Siamese twin to the nipple. In society, we don’t walk around letting our nipples stick out. Wait, a couple of caveats to that statement –

  1. Based on numerous episodes of “Friends”, nipples dictated when the character of Rachel was cold and they stuck out.
  2. Men walk around with both nipple and areola displayed to the world and society doesn’t bitch about that.

Areolas are connected to breasts. I will be honest, I like breasts. I even own a pair myself. Breasts are one thing, but when areolas become the focal point of my conversation, I get a little squirmy.

Areola, as I have named her, is a neighbor. A bit on the hillbilly side of life and devoid of the social graces society favors. She worships my dog, Sophie. “Worships” is used loosely, because if Sophie ever goes missing, I will knock on her door first. She gets totally fan girl over Sophie at every opportunity.

I have grown accustomed to the very tight-fitting, no bra wearing, un-supported breasts that throw themselves at Sophie. I divert my eyes because I really don’t want to have to say, “Excuse me, your breast is out.”  while she is bent over playing with my dog. It’s always a risk.

Fast forward to summertime in Texas. Ah, nothing like freakish levels of heat and humidity to get the clothes coming off. Thoughts of the swimming pool begin to arise, and neighbors walk around in swimsuits and towels.

Not Areola. No, she bounds toward me, all jiggly, and she sports the latest black athletic shorts, and the palest blue, spaghetti strap cami-thing I have ever seen. Did I mention that the fabric is also thin and see-through? As she lopes happily towards Sophie and myself, I begin to make out these enormous areolas pushing against her top. There is no nipple, just areola. It’s so tight, I literally make out every single bump and vein. I can’t take my eyes off of them. It’s like a grotesque train wreck – you see it coming down the track, but you’re helpless to do anything. She just kept playing with Sophie and the areolas are just bouncing around like a Plinko piece on The Price Is Right!

If Gina Gershon were to lope towards me wearing the same attire, it would be different. Christina Hendricks, different.  Kate Upton. Salma Hayek. Etc. You get the idea. We all want the areolas we are forced to look at to be attached to an eye pleasing package. Why it gets weird when they are on packages that require cornea diversion probably makes me a horrible person.

I’m shallow and weird. I have conversations with Areola and her pair of areolas. Going forward, I think I will start naming each bump. Like they are freckles. That should help.

Funny. I had to add “areola” to my spell check dictionary.

The Birth

A blog is born.

After years of someone riding my ass about writing a blog, the sun, moon, and stars have aligned. What was that? Why now? Well, for starters, A. won’t get off my back about it, and secondly, I do keep a lot of things repressed and would like to express myself uninhibitedly.

Repressed. Perhaps it’s more that I like to think I have manners. A personal blog is different than holding court on Facebook. There, unless you “Unfollow” or “Unfriend” someone, you are forced to see the rhetoric. Here, one subscribes to read my ramblings and one can easily unsubscribe as well.

I am not for everyone. Usually, people meet me and either instantly like or dislike me. I will venture a guess that this blog will reflect that as well.

I have no aspirations for greatness, only to entertain the discerning reader & bring some hilarity into this negative world. Who am I kidding?! I eventually want to be so renowned that I see “Jucy’s Taco” advertising on the right hand side of this website!

I would be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the godmother of A Ginger Snaps. The wind beneath my wings. The part of the Kenny Rogers song, “And she believes in me, I’ll never know just what she sees in me. I told her someday, I could change the world, with my little BLOG…” You get the general idea.

A., you did it. I am finally sitting here putting fingers to a keyboard. I hope I make you proud.

So, I welcome you. Ye who have taken leave of your sensibilities and subscribed. I think it will be fun, and an adventure for us all.


*NOTE: The names will be abbreviated to just the first letter of the first name to protect the innocent.

Welcome To My Blog

In a world of political correctness, negativity, and easily hurt feelings, a ginger sometimes “snaps” and needs a place of refuge. This is that refuge.

I hope you enjoy this foray into my head.

DISCLAIMER: I embrace profanity like a delicious taco. If you don’t like delicious tacos, then this blog probably isn’t the place for you.

DISCLAIMER: No taco establishment is paying me to talk about their tacos. I just love tacos. Insatiably love tacos. Not “fuzzy tacos”, not that there is anything wrong with that…

Welcome to my world –

A Ginger Snaps