I made it to work!

Only to relapse about an hour ago. Damn it. I knew I shouldn't have come in today.

Given the choice of fighting cross-river traffic or hanging out for another 90 minutes, I'm thinking crawling under my desk and sleeping admist the hanta-infested mouse droppings is looking pretty good.

But enough about that. Here, get pissed over this:

First, there's the hand-wringing article on Salon about Torrid. Y'all know about Torrid, right? It's the hip clothier for plus sized girls. My friend Gwyneth picked up a backless halter at the local Torrid a year ago and wears it when she goes to the swank bars downtown. And that halter never fails in getting a lot of appreciative compliments from the men folk, none of whom seem ready to lecture her on health risks.

(Not that they could get a word in edgewise. Gwyneth's a certified mad scientist and can totally dish it out, withering looks extra.)

(I love her.)


Wendy McClure has the rant.