Now that the almost crisis with the growth on my neck has been averted..{turns out it was just a 2 day sore throat and probably a swollen gland and still no flu...} I can turn my attention to other obsessions.
My current fixation is BOOBIES. Yes, I realize that's a weird obsession to have as a woman but I can't help it. I think it stems from jealousy. See, I don't have boobies. Really I don't. If I am not wearing a bra...there are no bumpies under my tshirt. nothing. nada. zip. zilch. zero.
The one and only time I had a half decent rack was when I was breast feeding. I think I was a solid A cup. Unfortunately, the boobies could not be looked at or touched at this point in time or they would immediately start shooting out milk. If Little J so much as whimpered my milk would let down and I'd be sporting giant wet spots on my shirt. This only lasted about 2 months and then the booby milk factory shut down, packed up and headed out of town leaving me with um....nothing
Boobies amuse me. Even the word 'booby' makes me giggle like a naughty school boy looking at the underwear ads in the flyers. I check out other women's cleavage all the time. I'm not creepy about it, just a tad jealous that I can't wear strapless tops and if I drop food down my top it only stops when it hits my waist. Is it so wrong to want bouncy, jiggly boobies. I want to live my life like the slow motion beach running scenes from Baywatch. I want something to squeeze.
I'm not vain or rich enough to go under the knife and get implants and knowing my luck, mine would shift and slide down to my belly button or squawk at high altitude.
So I guess for now I'll just wear the water bras and heavy sweaters and yearn for the day the Bobby Fairy comes to visit.
Eight...Years...Laytah
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Hard to believe I let this poor, neglected blog sit for so long. I don't
even know if people read blogs anymore. I know I don't. So pretty much
this ...
1 year ago