Some Thoughts on Bewbs

I recently tried to find "breasts humor" on Pinterest, and they told me, "We couldn't find any results for [that], but you might try Holidays, Corgis, Sneakers, or Pasta," (emphasis theirs).

My whim whams have grown from a size Brad Pitt to a size Danny DeVito since my freshman year in college, and I haven't gained A LOT of weight elsewhere.

When I wear something that I consider to be a bit revealing (keeping in mind that I'm kind of a prude), I will talk incessantly about how crazy big Burt and Ernie must look/worry about whether or not everyone thinks I'm a slut.

I've had improv coaches tell me to steer away from mentioning Fred and Ethel during a scene because it makes everyone in the audience look at 'em...because no one noticed until I said something...

I probably have a hunch back from trying to hide my jugs during church, and church school.

I enjoy my mammaries. At least when it's just me and them. And lavender bubble bath.

Once a young lesbian told me that she was sorry, but she just felt dirty looking at me in a low cut dress. I offered to wear a Burka around her. She didn't get the irony.

um.....are you even listening?

Guys will often inform me that my headlights are rather bright, and I'll kinda shake my head, shrug my shoulders and say, "yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaah. I know. It's okay."

I get my melons from my grandmother on my dad's side. Aging gracefully for her included eventually being able to tuck her ta-ta's into her pants.

Every guy I've dated in the past has been a self-proclaimed "ass-man."

I displayed my wahwahs once during a sketch show I did to promote funny women. I was playing Hilary Clinton debating Sarah Palin on the sexualization of women. In the end, the only thing we could agree on was the fact that boobs are, in fact, AWESOME. We both took our tops off to reveal red and blue pasties. My tit-tays are so big, the ratio of pasty to boob was roughly 1: 90.

I have bras that I can successfully wear as hats.

I don't want anyone to think I'm complaining. I know it's hard to have bee stings as well. For those with the lil 'uns, the cup must sometimes seem half empty. If we could walk a mile in each other's bra, you might take mine off as soon as you get the chance, just so you can have an excuse not to go out, and I'd probably take yours off equally as fast just to experience the freedom of being small enough to go bra-less. Let's not argue. We're all different, and it's those differences (in neener sizes) that make us who we are.

Thanks for listening.

And be good to your