Friday Funnies- Bathing Suit Shopping!

Okay I think I'm going to start a Friday Funnies Meme lol. I don't know how to make a meme or what it would look like, but I think that people have a joke to share and I know there are people that need to read something funny to brighten up their day. So if any of you faithful readers know how to make a meme I'd be very thankful if you came up with something for me. If not I'm going to have to experiment and that could get dangerous. To join, jokes must be in good taste and no perverse stuff. I know I know I'm preaching to the choir but I figured I had better lay down some sort of rules lol. It can be a personal story or a joke you found or love to tell. But if able give credit where credit is due. So link up to the Mr. Linky below this post to share your funny.
So here is my first Friday Funnies Joke. I wish I could take the credit for writing it but I did not lol. I'm not that old ha ha! Though my sense of humor does sway that way lol. Had to add that since you may have thought I did. I wish I could give credit to someone but I have no idea who wrote this.

The Bathing Suit

When I was a child in the 1960s the bathing suit for the mature figure was boned, trussed and reinforced, not so much sewn as engineered. They were built to hold back and uplift and they did a good job.

Today's stretch fabrics are designed for the prepubescent girl with a figure carved from a grain of rice.

The mature woman has a choice-she can either go up front to the maternity
department and try on a floral suit with a skirt, coming away looking like a hippopotamus in a tu-tu who escaped from Disney's Fantasia or she can wander around every run of the mill department store trying to make a sensible choice from what amounts to a designer range of florescent rubber bands.

What choice did I have? I wandered around, made my "sensible choices" and
entered the chamber of horrors known as the fitting room.

The first thing I noticed was the extraordinary tensile strength of the stretch material. The Lycra used in bathing costumes was developed, I believe, by NASA to launch small rockets from a slingshot, which give the added bonus
that if you manage to actually lever yourself into one, you are protected from
shark attacks as any shark taking a swipe at your passing midriff would immediately suffer whiplash. I fought my way into the bathing suit, but as I twanged the shoulder strap in place, I gasped in horror - my boobs had disappeared!

Eventually, I found one boob cowering under my left armpit. It took a while to find the other. At last I located it flattened beside my seventh rib.

The problem is that modern bathing suits have no bra cups. The mature woman is meant to wear her boobs spread across her chest like a speed bump. I realigned my speed bump and lurched toward the mirror to take a full view assessment.

The bathing suit fit all right, but unfortunately it only fit those bits of me willing to stay inside it. The rest of me oozed out rebelliously from top,
bottom, and sides. I looked like a lump of play dough wearing undersized cling
wrap.

As I tried to work out where all those extra bits had come from, the
prepubescent sales girl popped her head through the curtain, 'Oh, there you are,' she said, admiring the bathing suit.

I replied that I wasn't so sure and asked what else she had to show me. I
tried on a cream crinkled one that made me look like a lump of crumbled masking tape, and a floral two piece which gave the appearance of an oversized table cloth stuffed into a napkin ring.

I struggled into a pair of leopard skin bathers with ragged frills and came
out looking like Tarzan's Jane, pregnant with triplets and having a rough
day.

I tried on a black number with a midriff and looked like a jellyfish in
mourning.

I tried on a bright pink pair with such a high cut leg I thought I would have to wax my eyebrows to wear them.

Finally, I found a suit that fit...a two-piece affair with a shorts style bottom and a loose blouse-type top.

It was cheap, comfortable, and bulge-friendly, so I bought it. My ridiculous search had a successful outcome, I figured. When I got home, I found a label which read -- 'Material might become transparent in water.'

So, if you happen to be on the beach or near any other body of water this year and I'm there too....I'll be the one in cut off jeans and a t-shirt!

You'd better be laughing or rolling on the floor by this time.

'Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain'.