Thursday, December 07, 2006

Hey you, cocktit!

Listen ladies. I have but one request for you today. It's not huge, alright? Don't get all panicky thinking I'm going to ask you to balance my checkbook or demand a juggling act with broken glass and a running chainsaw. This will not require money, illegal action, or assistance from an outside party. It's not going to hurt. It'll take about 4 seconds of your life and could change your day. I know it will certainly change mine.

You have GOT to straighten out your nipples before you leave the house.

Tweak 'em, rub a little ice on 'em, or stick 'em in your dustbuster, I don't care, but you need to pay attention to which way they're pointing so if a cold wind kicks up, you sneeze, or the fucking over-producing AC in your office showers you with freezing air all fucking day and gives you some spectacular glass cutters it won't look like Marty God Damn Feldmen has crawled into your shirt.

I cannot look at your face when you're smuggling peas with lefty pointing directly at my face and the other towards the South Pole. One of these days I'm going to send my pinching fingers in for sweet revenge and give you a tweak that'll bring tears to your eyes. The askew boob is distracting, yo.

And it's OK. I have a set of cans on me that are impressive, although I think they belong between the pages of National Geographic instead of Playboy, so I get it. I developed much like Wynonna Ryder and Kirsten Dunst, without the tiny waists and non-existent assess but with what I like to call The Pendulous Breasts. They have a natural swing and weight and unruly nipples that need a little post-bra wrangling to get situated for the day.

But even if you're not plenteous in the chestal region you still need to take the time to level it all up. Hard nips are hot. Cocktits are not.



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