Tuesday, January 17, 2006
I must confess I am obsessed with the two protrusions on your chest...
Now of course, as a guy, I don't have to carry the darn things around, so I can love 'em all I want... they're like children, they're great when they're someone else's and I can give them back to their owners when I've had my fill. And like children, ladies, you should love yours for who they are – and as the person in the above-left is trying to say, dress them properly. Neatness counts, aesthetics matter. That leads a peeve of mine: the women with A-or-less who always wear bras despite having nothing to hold up, and the D-or-greater women who leave the house without support. (One can't hold a pencil, the other can carry a typewriter.) Never mind my personal reasons for why the lesser-chested should fly free, I just don't see why one should pay a bundle of money (and I'm told good bras aren't cheap) on something that serves little purpose beside, say, body armor and filling an arbitrary societal expection. But as for the women with huge boobs hanging down to their navels and off to their sides, wandering through the supermarket knocking cans off of shelves when they turn? Damn, get a steel-belted radial on those things! Think of other people! We don't wanna see two hippos wrestling under a torn tarpaulin! In the middle of this we have the folks who wear padding, to try to disguise the fact that they're of lesser amplitude. There's nothing wrong with small busts! Oddly a number of these people who have fluffed up their pillows wear low-cut shirts to display their newly-forged cleavage, and it doesn't take much work to see the puffy parts sticking out around the fringes... it's called a Wonder Bra because the guy wonders where everything went when his date takes it off. Honesty is the best policy, just live with what you've got and don't be deceptive.
The title line of this entry comes from the song "Tits" by John Paragon (a.k.a. Paul Reubens, who later became Pee-Wee Herman) in an HBO special called Paragon of Comedy [possibly released on video as Uncensored]. "Boobs, I'm wild about boobs, like two Rubik's Cubes that I want to twiiist... I put them at the top of my shopping list." Tune in some other day, when the next body part I spend too much time on is exposed midriffs. Big or small, on either gender.
Mike: Is that anything like how one gets money off a drunk? I hear it's fun.
"But as for the women with huge boobs hanging down to their navels and off to their sides, wandering through the supermarket knocking cans off of shelves when they turn? Damn, get a steel-belted radial on those things! Think of other people! We don't wanna see two hippos wrestling under a torn tarpaulin!"
I was laughing out loud.
My best friend has such big boobies that she has to buy what she calls Industrial bras. I can get by with the cheapies from Walmart. We laugh about how different we are in that dept, but neither of us considers surgery to alter ourselves. I'm grateful that mine won't be dragging the floor someday, and she makes sure hers are fully contained at all times.
The tits that have come in and out my door...
Altering my plans
Held them in my hands
To all the boobs I've loved before...
Jamie: Er, no one. :) Glad that you can empathize with my screed, and good to hear that your ample friend treats hers with respect. Walmart is evil, so you should tear that thing off right now. :-D