Tuesday, June 10, 2008

My Humps

As promised, you filthy animals, here's a post about my breasts. Stop licking your chops. You look disgusting.

Well, as some of you know, if you've visited my other blog, I've been complaining a lot about the current weather in New York. In fact, it's all I've been talking about for the last three days. It's hot. scorchingly, punishingly hot, man. Sweatier and more foultastic than the space under a homeless guy's balls. For real, yo. It's fucking nasty.

And every time another June rolls around and I find that I'm still residing here in Queens, I cock my eyebrow skyward and wonder to the (good?) lord above how the fuck I've managed not to escape in time for another sweltering New York summer. (That is, after I finish giving my own ass a brutal whipping with an electrical cord). I mean, summertime in NYC is the ninth circle of hell. It's horrid. Dig?

But enough about that. Let's talk about my tits.

I was thinking about them today because, when it's this hot outside, I cannot possibly stand to wear a bra. A brassiere on me in the summertime reminds me of those bits they used to make the talking horses wear in old movies and TV shows. I think they were made of razor wire and itching powder. Or something like that. Anyway, you get my point. Think Hannibal Lechter and that thing they put on his face. Come on, keep up. I'm getting to the boobs part.

So, yeah. I don't wear a bra in the summer, most of the time. And this really doesn't matter much at all, because I have very small breasts. They are fabulous, mind you. Ask anyone. But, still. Small. Small as hell.

A male friend of mine just started dating a small-breasted woman and remarked the other day, with a generous amount of disbelief, "They are even smaller than yours!"

Yes. Well.
Thanks.

I remember when I first discovered I was growing breasts, at the tender age of 12 or so. I looked down and noticed that the area that was previously indistinguishable from my stomach (both were soft and kind of mushy ...I wasn't an athletic child) was suddenly budding out in the most pleasing and adorable way. I was thrilled. Every day I woke up and checked to see if they'd gotten any bigger. My mom and I bought my first little bra at Sears. And I waited and waited for the big, fleshy knockers to come.

That was 22 years ago.

Those goddamned boobs never, ever came.

My sister got all the mammary endowment in the family. I remember hating her for that...she woke up one day and looked like a goddamned porn star. She was blessed with the golden, enviable traits of our Italian heritage: tanned skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, and boobs. I was prone to sunburns, loved pasta, didn't need a bra and probably could have started shaving my legs at the age of 6.

But I digress. This cloud does have a silver lining, my friends. I promise you.

So here I am today. I'm walking to the Rite Aid to buy some sunscreen and feminine hygiene products, and I catch my reflection in the window of a bank as I'm dragging my hot ass across the street (and boy, is it a hot ass. My sister might've gotten the boobs, but I got the butt. Yay, god!). I am wearing a tank top made of the flimsiest cotton imaginable. Any other woman would get hauled into the clink for indecent exposure if she dared venture outdoors in that shirt braless. But not me. See, I've got these magical, fairy-sized boobs, y'all. I can get away with anything.

After 35 years on this tired planet, after birthing a child and giving her unbridaled access to my breasts as feedbags for over two consecutive years, these boobs of mine are still kick ass. Small, yes. But not saggy or wrinkly or covered in stretch marks. No way, man. Not even.
They are still bouncy. I'd even call them pristine.

So, as I write this, the first New York heat wave of 2008 is about to break with the approach of what looks to be a violent thunderstorm. I'd better publish this before a bolt of lightning comes in through my window and kills me. It would be a waste not to share this story of triumph over adversity with you all.

I am a survivor. And if I can't inspire you all with tales of what I've overcome, then what good am I?

Good evening.

26 comments:

TED VELVET said...

I always found that no matter how obsessed with breasts I may be, it was the whole ass region that really did it for me. I mean big boobs are cool but a nice ass is a masterpiece and proof of gods existence...at least for the time your chomping on it. as for the thunderstorm, it's 10:33 and I think my house is about to blow away.

Jack said...

Awesome that you nursed her for two+.

Krissyface said...

Ted...are you in NY? Storm passed here.

Jack, Yep, it was awesome. Would've gone on longer, but I was starting to slowly wither away and die from lack of sleep.

TED VELVET said...

because one of my best friends lives in Astoria I can say that I am exactly 90 minutes away in Connecticut. i don't know if your a beer fan but the Bohemia Beer garden in Astoria rocks!

Scooter said...

I simply am in awe of the female tolerance. A child gnawing on my nipple with its teeth would simply be a deal breaker.

I guess that's why I have to take care of the spiders.

Sproactually said...

Breasts are evil, they are mild control devices women use to suck the life out of men. Then you keep them from us, cover them, hide them and never let us play with them. Then the weather gets nice, you put on your tank tops and take them for walks, do we get invited along, NO.

THEN... if we should happen to notice that women are out walking their breasts, we get scolded, yelled at and accused of undermining your self esteem. If we react the same way to say a early 1970's domestic full size convertible automobile, we're told to keep dreaming? Huh, talk about mixed signals.

I tried to explain it this way to my ex wife, Breasts are tools, they have a use, its a single use and then they get put away. Men LIKE tools, we go to home depot just to see if there is a tool we NEED. We buy the tool, and we may only use the tool once, but we have it, cherish it, stare at it, play with it.

And Smart men NEVER lend their tools to anyone, sure, you can see my tools, but that's it.. You can't touch it, use it, borrow it. You can tell you buddies about your tools, and brag about them.

The real fact about breasts, boobs, tits, juggs or whatever name I missed is that it's all in the presentation, and braless in a tank top is like having dinner at a fine French Restaurant..

Warped Mind of Ron said...

Breasts are good. The size is irrelevant, unless you go to something like a FFF then it's freakish.

Krissyface said...

Ted, Beer Garden so rocks. You are 100% correct. If you and the family ever get down this way, we should take the kiddies there. Kid friendly environment + beer + sausage = good time had by all.

Scoot, tell me about the spiders.

Steve, Hmmmm. You seem to have really strong feelings about this. Having never paid much attention to my small package, I never gave the idea much thought that I could be using them to manipulate men or control their minds or anything. But now, of course, I'm totally gonna.

Ron, Agreed. Thank god I never had that problem.

jeremy said...

your familiarity with homeless taint both frightens and intrigues me.

Krissyface said...

Jeremy,

You said taint. Ew.

catscratch diva said...

I wish I had been blessed with smaller boobs. You are certainly blessed, chickie!

Pronto said...

I heart when you talk about boobs.

Especially bra-less ones.

Just sayin'

Prunella Jones said...

Yay for boobies! I love mine too. It's fun to flash them.

Krissyface said...

Cat, tis a blessing I am grateful I discovered before it was too late. Yes.

Pronto, Well, it is one of my favorite subjects. Really so much fun to talk about.

Pru, I have a feeling people would be much more impressed with a flash from you than a flash from me. Still, you're giving me ideas...

jespur said...

As one who would have given anything to have smaller boobs, i can say with every fiber of my being that i deeply envy you (for many reasons- smart and funny? what's up with that?) that you can walk around without a bra ever in public. When the boobie-fairy hit first, around 10/11ish I was forced to quit hanging out with the boys- Urgh.
A B-cup by 7th grade and a C-cup by 9th grade. I had to stop running track because the boys would stop whatever they were doing to watch me run by.
The boobie-fairy was most generous when I had my son and nursed him for 3 years (at which time he happily traded "booby-juice" for an action figure)jeez- I must've been an f or double ff (I was in denial, my husband was in heaven). At 4 yrs old my son's first spontaneously and correctly spelled word was BooB in the steam of the bathroom mirror (closely followed by poop and fart- true to 4 yr old form).
I have been told by my spouse that he sometimes sends his friends pic's if my cleavage as birthday gifts. And that If I ever get them surgically reduced he's consider it breech of contract and grounds for divorce.
But on summer days like the last couple...I would give anything to walk around without a bra.

Mister Underhill said...

NO PICS?!?!!?

Krissyface said...

Jespur, that is hilar...3 years o nursin...I give you props, girl...I wanted to keep going but I was turning into a sleep-deprived bitchmother. Lily is 4.5 and I believe she'd still be doing it if I hadn't weaned her. I did say those breasts of mine be magikal.

Mr. U...sorry to disappoint. We can't all be as bold as some, posting pics of our fabulous unmentionables on the web...

Big Momma Pimpalishisness said...

My little sister got more boobs than me too. Of course, her stomach is as big as her boobs so I don't really feel too bad.

Scooter said...

Spiders, huh? Well, my girlfriend thinks that they are icky, and has asked me to put them outside on a couple of occasions.

Um... As for spiders in general... they are technically in the order Araneae, which is part of the class Arachnida. Technically speaking, a scorpion is an arachnid, but not a spider.

Arachnids have been around for 400 million years, and have survived several major extinction events.

Who am I to crush something that was scurrying about when the dinosaurs walked the earth?

Krissyface said...

Big Momma, so you get it.

Scoot, This morning I had a fat little arachnid scurrying around my oven/sink area (a welcome change to other things that tend to scurry around that area), so I happily cleaned the kitchen and let him hang out...tried to get him into a cup so I could dump him out the window to a happier place, but he was having none of it. I figured he'd find his way at some point.

then I go out shopping for 3 hours and when I come back, he's still hanging out by the sink...I'm like, ok dude. You're cute and all, but this is no place for you. Especially if Lily or Sea Monkey sees you. Out you go. So it took me a few minutes to trap him in a cup, and then put him outside.

And all was well.

I love spiders.

sparsely kate said...

great post and I am green with jealously. Never in my 33 years have I got to walk around in a tang top...I have big boobs and they make me hunch my shoulders forward in embarrassment.

I want your ones!!

flounder said...

My grandpa always told me that "more than a mouthful is a waste."

Good to see that you are not causing others to be wasteful.

Jack said...

(new post!)

Big Momma Pimpalishisness said...

Totally.

kay zee said...

my bra memory:
I became a D cup at 18 so mom and I went to the mall to find me a new bra.
I was trying on these monstrosities- and they were JSUT that- most had built in shoulder pads!
(I am a smallish girl- not a 250 pound 70 yr old with heavy knockers!)

Mom laughed.
I cried.
then laughed.
the end.

Memphis Steve said...

That's one of the things I remember admiring about New York City, in the summertime all the women went braless and just let those puppies go free. Anyway, as long as the subject has been raised, a woman with a nice round set of breasts, small though they may be, who also has a fine, fine ass, can always set a healthy man's pants on fire just by walking by.