Monday, March 31, 2008
Daily Dude I Want to Hit: my breasts
DOB: November 17, 1978 (although they really didn't come into present form until sometime around 1993 or 1994)
Occupation: source of batshit craziness, popping out of my shirt, totally ruling
Hometown: Puyallup, Washington
Current residence: my chest, Sugar Hill, Harlem, New York, New York
Why I Want to Hit that Hotness: Whether lauded or maligned, my tits are one of my best features. That's why I always put pictures of them up when I have nothing better to do. I don't have a particularly high opinion regarding my facial good looks. I'm not necessarily ugly, but I don't think I'm that pretty either. Facewise, I would rate my looks as more or less average. I could be more busted, but I could also be a lot more beautiful. My breasts, however, are fucking awesome, and the only people who have ever said otherwise are anonymous commenters on the internets who can't come up with anything better to hate on me about (these are usually the same haters who call me "fat" even though I'm a fucking size 4).
I've had a love-hate relationship with my cans throughout my life. I started school early, and I hit puberty late anyway, so I was the last girl in my class to develop breasts. There was this one kid who used to fold over his All Saints School uniform sweatshirt at nipple level, and run around saying, "Check it out, I've got bigger boobs than Razzy!" I remember in the fifth or sixth grade I felt so left out by my lack of development that I begged my mom to buy me a size AAA training bra just so I wouldn't be left out among all my friends in the grappling with puberty. On one occasion, I made the very ill-advised decision to stuff said training bra with Kleenex prior to going to a movie with some friends. After the movie, I went out to dinner with my family, and upon being seated my dad said, "Got a stuffy nose?" I was like, "Huh?" He said, "Because I see you packed some extra Kleenex," snatched a stray piece of tissue that was poking out of my collar, and blew his nose with it. I was mortified, my brother and dad were laughing hysterically, and my mother was fighting back laughter while trying to get pissed at my dad for embarrassing me. I was horrified at the time, but in hindsight I can hardly blame my father for cashing in on a golden joke-making opportunity.
I think because I spent so many years feeling insecure about my breasts (or lack thereof), that when I finally got them, I went overboard showing them off. I didn't realize that I had a decent rack until I was about to go to college, when enough boys had complimented them for me to take notice. Since then, I've been overcompensating for those many years of breastless agony by exposing them whenever and wherever possible. Since my tits are awesome, I consider it a service to my fellow man, and a fun party trick that's always good for a laugh. For going on fifteen years now, whenever there's a dull moment, I can always count on my fun bags to bring excitement, laughter, surprise, and general mirth. This weekend was no exception.
On Saturday, I attended a birthday party for my dear friend JerseyGirl. As there were several other hardcore Razzyphiles in attendance at the dinner beforehand (Rack, FalloniusMonk, HillsYes, Senioritis, Twathopper, Rack's boyfriend TheOldGuy, JerseyGirl's boyfriend Kodiak), at some point the topic of discussion came around to how stupid the editors of IvyGate are for thinking that breast-centric blog entries are actually an expression of "batshit" craziness. The general consensus was that any undergraduates who sneer at free photos of bare breasts should take a gander in the mirror before slinging around accusations of mental illness, because that in itself is a much surer measure of insanity. Kodiak thus declared that "every picture I take of you tonight is going to be of your boobs." He delivered. Yesterday, I got a text from JerseyGirl saying, "Dude, there's pictures of your tits all over Kodiak's Facebook." And indeed, half of the "JerseyGirl's Birthday!" photo album on Kodiak's Facebook is comprised of this:
I'm just amazed that none of these pictures include me pulling my top further down to immortalize some bare breast action as being an integral part of the celebrations commemorating JerseyGirl's 28th year of blessing the world with her presence. Bare or barely covered, though, my boobs were one of the reasons why it was, according to JerseyGirl, "OMG! Like the best JerseyGirl's 28th birthday Beirut party in the history of the world ever."
Labels: Daily Dude I Want to Hit, intentional buffoonery, JerseyGirl, Kodiak, nudity, Razzification, Razzy Haters
Comments:
Links to this post:
<< Home
Have to agree, they are lovely breasts, and I am always happy to see them posted on your blog. Also, I remember a few weeks back when you promised some tactifully posted pictures of your southern goods by the end of the month. Well today is the 31st Razzy, so you know we're all waiting for those great photos of the nether regions.
Post a Comment
# posted by 
: 3/31/2008 9:40 AM
: 3/31/2008 9:40 AM Links to this post:
<< Home
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]
