Monday, March 11, 2013

When your body betrays


I have long held the stance that big boobs are not what they're cracked up to be.  So many women and girls dream of bigger boobs and cleavage but having had both large and regular sized breasts, at this point I can tell you that smaller boobs are nice.  They fit into any piece of clothing without trying to peek out over the top or burst through an opening and they demurely stay in their support unlike bigger boobs which are constantly trying to escape everything.  But now I have a warning to all those wishing for larger boobs, beware!  My boobs have tried to kill me.
You heard me right.

It all started the other day when I showered.  I don't wash my hair every day.  Not because I'm a lazy stinky person, but because I have thick thick hair that takes quite a bit of effort to dry and which remains healthy without shampooing every day.  I wash it about once every three days.  On this particular day I washed my hair and planned to blow it dry.  When I want to give it a curly look, I tip my head over and pile hair into the diffuser of the blow dryer allowing it to dry as it rests there.  This means I keep my head tipped over as far as possible.

What the heck does my hair and a blow dryer have to do with my boobs?  Prior to that day, I would have told you nothing.  But apparently my boobs saw their chance to off me.  As I was doubled over, holding a hair dryer close to my head, my boobs squeezed into my larynx and cut off my airflow.  (That would be the airflow to my lungs, not my hair dryer). I coughed and wheezed and stood up.  I tried again, doubling over to gather hair into my diffuser when my boobs moved in on my throat again and cut off my air.

Who would have thought my boobs would be so hell bent on murder?  After all, I've taken excellent care of them over the years.  I keep them clean and dry.  I dress them as nicely as possible.  I've been their constant friend all their life.  In the end, none of that loving care meant anything to them.  For some reason they want to kill me.  I can't even begin to fathom what motive they harbor for such a notion.  If anyone has any ideas, let me know.  Perhaps I can negotiate a truce.  Because after all, I could have turned them in to the authorities but that would have required me to be arrested as well since they are attached to my body.  You know what that means right?

I have to sleep with one eye open and am living in fear for my life.  From. My. Boobs.

So ladies, I tell you, be glad of your small boobs who haven't got the capacity to kill you.  Unless of course they install some sort of poisonous dart system into the nipples.  Then you better watch out!

Want some Pins?  Huh?  Huh?  Huh?  Wellllllllll, OK.  But there are no boob pictures to go with today's post.  Just geeky stuff mainly.  Check for yourself, click on the picture to see my board for the past week.



Word for Poetry Friday this week:  Harbor

4 comments:

De said...

The way my nips feel 30% of the time, I believe I am a victim if the poison dart system. Damn it! Will I have to blow dry my hair to find out?

De said...

Also - fun pins today. My niece works for Lego. She would probably die before she carried that bag I'm guessing. Too bad because it's cute.

jaded said...

Until I read this, I always thought the greatest mammary liabilities were back pain, accidentally slamming one in a drawer, picking up unwanted lechers, finding it difficult to play the guitar, and having the clueless cat stand on a nipple. I need to rethink this.

meno said...

Hi Love.

Being small breasted has never looked so good.