On my ride up the BQE today, I noticed that the billboards on the side of the highway had changed. One of them used to show a scantily clad woman whose skimpy thong was nearly the same color as her skin, and so—as I whizzed past the sign—it was hard to know exactly what was going on.
Once my curious seven-year-old, who wondered what the billboard was advertising (perhaps it was for a men’s club or a Caribbean resort), pointed out that the woman may have been naked and showing her “girl stuff.” Now I love the phrase, “girl stuff,” so sweet and innocent— in light of the vulgar terms for female genitalia that he’d undoubtedly be learning any day now from the older kids on the playground.
