Friday, February 01, 2008

Neither blue-footed nor endangered. Nor portable. Alas.

Once a month I develop a serious loathing for these two little bastards I carry around on the front of my body.

I've lamented them, talked to them sternly, argued with them, all to no avail.

I get all, "I hate you!"

While my boyfriend is more like, "Christmas!"

I've been wanting to just leave them in the dresser drawer - like, yes, just sit in the dark and think about how you've been behaving! And then my boyfriend said that if he could, he'd happily take them off my hands.

"It would be so fantastic! I could just take them to work with me!"

"I wish you could."

"Well, except I wouldn't really get anything done. Because they'd be sitting on my desk and every time I turned around, I'd be like, oooh, boobies!"

"God. One can only imagine."

"Yeah. And then a male colleague would come in my office with a work matter, and then suddenly he'd be like, 'ooh, boobies!' and none of us would get anything done."

I declined to mention that on top of the lack of productivity and bizarre workplace bavior that would engender, it would also mean sharing my breasts with his colleagues. Which, if he thought about it, would horrify him.

I'd might be almost OK with it if that meant I could get rid of them for a bit, though. But you know they'd have a hard time looking me in the eye next time we saw each other.


  1. LMFAO!! Ah, the beauty of being a woman! Just thank God that you didn't have to pay for yours. Three times. ;)

  2. those must be some expensively great breasts almost!

  3. Girl, please. I'd trade boobs with you, PMS or not, any day. I was a D in high school and college, then started creeping into DD territory, and for some reason, they kept growing and growing until I was a 32H. Yes, you read that right. The rest of me was the same size, but I had these outrageous porn-star boobs that looked obscene on my 5'2 frame. So I got them reduced. Which was awesome, until I got pregnant, and now I'm a DD again. Fuckers.

  4. Almost - Yes, thank goodness. Yours are pretty much perfect, though.

    SD - Absolutely.

    Wendy - Holy cow! That is a lot to carry around. Sorry about that. It does make me feel like I have no room to complain.

  5. not trying to one-up, but seriously, I would kill to have perky little boobs that occasionally get a bit poofy.

    In any event, very funny post. The thought of having a dialogue with one's breasts is hilarious. Oh, the things I would say...

  6. Yeah, I don't get you girls either. I don't understand how you can walk around with breasts (and the other goodies) and not be constantly feeling yourselves up all day. Jus' sayin'

  7. I laughed at this post (and you can guess what I was thinking) and then I read Wendy's comments and I thought yep.

    We all live with the boobs we were given, unless, of course, we can afford surgery.

    I'd love knob boobs where you could screw them off and change sizes.

  8. I'm okay with carrying my boobs around all day, but my back fat can sure as hell stay in the drawer and think about what it has done. Bad back fat.

  9. Oh my gosh, you make me laugh! I had my enhancement surgery and my mom told me "no on in our family gets their boobs until after they have children". At 27 I thought "yeah, what ever! lotta good they will do me then!" Low and behold I went up 2 sizes after I had my son.....Ugh! I feel your pain! And they totally have a mind of their own.....they play games with me. I am all like, I feel like wearing this shirt today and my boobs are like....just for fun lets make the buttons on that shirt hold on for dear life. Evil, Evil, Evil!

  10. Ninja, I feel myself up constantly...wherever I'm certain there are no security cameras.


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