Friday, April 01, 2005

Mashed Potato Boobs

in case any of you were thinking you would like to have a more ample bosom, i was just reminded of a very good reason why you're wrong.

i was on a date with The Boy when we'd not been together long and he took me to a rather nice restaurant.


sidebar: now, it's true that i'm prone to spilling. and big breasts make for a sort of "shelf" that will serve to catch things (like crumbs) that fall into people without abnormally large breasts' laps. but because i know this, and if i am really really careful, i can avoid collecting crumbs or droplets like a pro.

so there i was, trying to be all charming and sophisticated while dutifully minding my fork-from-plate-to-mouth movements.

but. the restaurant was intimate and we were speaking in low tones, which i thought was romantic until The Boy politely pointed to my shirt and i knew before i even looked down that i'd caught something, despite my best efforts.

except i hadn't "caught" so much as "smooshed".

in leaning forward to engage in intimate and meaningful conversation, my boobs had -- totally unbeknownst to me -- jutted into my mashed potatoes.

naturally i was wearing black.

the point is, there are some advantages to having a great rack, but it's almost impossible to manage sophistication when you have a creamy side dish smeared on it.

10 comments:

  1. Ahahahahahahahaha...whoops. Sorry, not laughing at you. Laughing with you. WITH you! heh heh

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  2. Don't you mean "breast effort?" LOL. Trust me. A little pototo(e) on your tatas just means you won't go hungry later. A tasty treat the likes of A & B cups will never have the pleasure of enjoying.

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  3. Huh, huh, you said creamy side dish.

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  4. Tater Tits!

    that's just hilarious. i used to have a girlfriend who'd spill everything... but she had huge boobs, so nothing ever hit her lap - it all went right to her boobs, like they were magnets or something.

    or maybe swiffers. you know, how they attract dust. swiffer boobs!

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  5. *still giggling* A friend and I have experienced the same crumb-catcher syndrome. None of our blouses are free of the occasional spot of diet Coke, chocolate, mustard, etc. Hence ... why we call the excess boobage the "Condimental Shelf."

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  6. I can't tell you how many times I've smooshed something on my plate. Ugh... so funny in the end but it sucks when it happens.

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  7. god, catching flyaway food on your chest is the worst. it reminds me of getting stuck in a shirt while in a dressing room due to large bazooms. which of course, is a different, more private humiliation. that is, unless, you need help and are all alone....ponder that one over for a bit..

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  8. Or you could have been wearing white and leaned into a dish of stewed tomatos. Thus the reason that I refuse to eat those damned tomatos ever again.

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  9. oops! wondering if I was there :)

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