Big Breasts...Still Think You Want 'Em?
12:05 a.m. Monday, Aug. 11, 2003
I just finished this book called Why Girls Are Weird and it was absolutely hilarious. I was reading out loud to Amy and Chad at work and I couldn�t read it I was laughing so hard at one point. It is about online journals/diaries and I felt that was rather humorous. Anyway, this is a great excerpt from one of her diary entries. I dedicate this to Riley Pool and the joy of concession stand working. May men (and women) know the �joys� of breasts.
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By Request (I Give You a Rack for the Day)
Small-chested girls and boys of all sizes: Today I give you a set of tits. You wanted big boobs your entire life and today you get to have them. After you�ve spent ten minutes in the mirror playing with them, get ready to experience the real world of big-tittydom. Here we go:
Your shoulders will hunch inward, just slightly�a result of trying to make your chest look smaller while you were growing up, embarrassed to have people staring at you.
The seat belt never stays across your chest. It slides up and sometimes goes around your neck if you aren�t careful. You are terrified that you will one day be decapitated in an auto accident by your 34Ds.
The cuter the T-shirt, the greater chance it will not fit you. If it does fit in the arms and length, the logo on the front will be stretched so tight across your chest that you look obscene.
The strappy/backless fad? Forget it. Where are you ever gonna be seen without a bra? There�s no way. While you�re at it, you can pretty much forget one-piece swimsuits. They don�t make any that fit and hold you in. You�re buying separates forever.
When you�re cold, everyone else is gonna know. They won�t tell you that you�re high-beaming, but will enjoy the free show. You might notice yourself, however, when you scratch your arm on your nipple. Again, the protective hunch will develop in time.
People will �accidentally� brush into you. They like to do this at bars, in tight hallways, and on buses. They will be all �Excuse me� but will raise or lower their arms so that they brush into your breasts. They may even do the hard shove that presses their chest against yours. They won�t thank you for it either.
Your mother will talk about your chest more than your career.
No running. Ever. Invest in three sports bras and wear two at once, but you�re still not going to run a mile. Use the elliptical trainer, treadmill or Stairmaster.
The sight of speed bumps on the road may bring tears to your eyes.
Never close a hardcover book too quickly. You could get a nipple stuck in there. Yes, it happened, no, I don�t want to talk about it.
Babies grab your breasts. They don�t know any better. It�s only mortifying when someone jokes loudly, �He�s looking for lunch!!�
Loves will try and name them. Don�t let them. Keep your dignity. Maybe on great name like �Fantasia.� But not �Bert and Ernie.� �Pooh and Tigger.� �Lefty and Lopsy.� Fuck that shit.
You wear your bra all the time. Constantly. Underwires only. No frilly-soft-lacy-pretty things. Industrial strength. Straps an inch wide. You look like a 1950s nurse who�s into S&M.
They itch. Once a month, they start itching like a motherfucker. You will find yourself leaning over your desk and rubbing your chest against the edge so it looks like you�re just sort of grooving. You will figure out how to use your forearms to scratch yourself. The itching is terrible. And when it first starts happening when you are young, your mother will tell you it�s because they are growing. When it�s still happening at 25, it�s ok to panic�just a little.
Women outwardly hate you because of your chest. Even your best friends.
There will be lines you can break, drinks that will be free, things that you can have, and tickets you might get out of.
There will also be friendships ever had, clothes never worn, sports never played, and pictures ripped to shreds in agony.
Your back hurts. Just all the time. A constant state of hurt.
You have a terrible fear of catching a football. It is completely understandable.
New boyfriends won�t know what to do with them. They will opt for a mix of lifting and lowering, licking all over the place, hoping to hit a spot you like.
Sometimes, you accidentally drop food down there, like popcorn. People think that�s hysterical.
Sometimes you�ll lean over a table to get the salt and will end up dipping your breast in someone�s ketchup. Yes, you�ll be humiliated. No, you probably couldn�t have avoided it.
You may catch yourself leaning on a table, resting only your breasts on it. Stop. You look obnoxious. I know you didn�t realize it. It just happens sometimes.
Find yourself a period play and act the shit out of it. May I suggest Dangerous Liaisons ?
Did I frighten you or just make you want your own pair of big boobs even more? No boys, I�m not talking to you. I know what your answer is. Even you gay boys. I know you want a fancy pair for special evenings. I�m just talking to the Itty Bitty Tittie Committee here. All in favor of keeping your new knockers, say �aye!�
Hello? Hello? Yeah that�s what I thought.
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(all words and ideas in-between the asterisks are copyright of Pamela Ribon, author of Why Girls are Weird. This is in no way trying to steal her idea. I only thought it was really funny and try to let other big gals know we aren�t alone and to the smaller girls that they aren�t all they�re cracked up to be. I highly recommend this book. Published by Pocket Books�only $12. A great read.)
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