Observations: Boobies

Once in a while one has an epiphany of sorts that blossomed from many little observations that collect within the mind over time.  Now, not all of these awakenings are liable to the title “epiphany” for epiphanies should be profound and substantially relevant to ones situation.   Therefore, I am going to delve into some sudden “realizations” from a warped mind.

This recent realization concerns boobies.  Yes boobies.  I’ve noticed certain behavioral patterns that coincide with the size of ones yabo’s. We will simplify by first taking all those with weight issues out of the picture.  The anorexic and pleasantly plump we will ignore for now.  So we have a population of women within the healthy “average” spectrum.

And now, as I love to do, am going to speak in generalities, so don’t think of yourself, or your friends, your enemies, so you don’t get all offended. Not that I care.
As I love to say, “One can only be a fool when speaking in generalities, and I do so love to play the fool.”  (Is it illegal to quote one self? Probably should be.) Yet, generalities exist for a reason.  Stereotypes should not be a tool to judge a person, but let’s not be so ignorant to believe that there are not reasons for their existence.

Ah, I regress.  Now where was I, oh yes headlights.  It seems that those with smaller bozumes, tend to be a little self conscious.  Sometimes this makes them suspicious, but often it makes them more willing to show some personality, expose themselves to the world, no pun intended.   With out the fun bags to use as bait they attempt to show off some wit, a sense of humor.  Sometimes they can go overboard with the “take me as I am” attitude, or try to prove how smart they are, but generally a better conversation.

That could all simply be a result of people actually looking into their eyes, but who knows?  Some just become too damn shy, or more willing to settle based on the jerk in their subconscious telling them that they aren’t worth as much because they have little pups.  Sounds absurd until you realize that we are animals and that a girls rack are the equivalent to a male peacocks beautiful feathers.

Those who have larger ta ta’s, walk around as if they don’t have shit to prove.  But attitude varies with proportions.   The more weight on their bones, the more down to earth they are. They have other insecurities about their bodies, so they figure, “I’m not perfect, but hell, I still have my fantastic jiggles’.”   The heavier they become, (remember we knocked out the obese) the more approachable, and dare I say “jolly” they become.

As the top heavy become thinner, some tend to become a little arrogant and immensely proud of their fun bags as if their presence is the reason for that persons being and don’t mind being treated as merely the carrier of  large breastseses, though they’ll never admit to it.

Others almost find it a burden, almost.  They wouldn’t trade them for the world but they kind of find it a drag that everyone confuses them with the bitches above and that most of the time they can’t be seen as anything but that.   They sometimes yearn for an identity without cannons and can become disenchanted.

They may blow off a lot of guys thinking those guys are looking for that previously mentioned type of top heavy honey, even though they weren’t even paying attention to her bongos.  They were eyeing those magnificent gams. (legs)

The ladies with “enhancement” surgery are much simpler.  For all intensive purposes breast implants are merely a license to act like a bitch.   Some of them get them to make more cash at the titty bar. (Got to pay for college ya know) Some, bless their soul mutilate their bodies for their man, and for the man after the divorce.  But when it comes  down to it, they once were some girl with smaller pom poms, and couldn’t be happy with the proportionate little waste and tighter rear end that nature for the most part supplies them.

No, they had to grab from the big girls what doesn’t belong to them, size DD melons.  All the insecurity, all the self-loathing, all the things that bring one to the dark side come out in their personality once the emperor, I mean doctor puts false cans into their chest.

Perhaps they were born bitches, and every time they tried prove it the other girls cut them down because of the size of their woo hoo’s, so they went out to get bigger ones so they could properly go out and behave as a holier than though cunt.  Again who knows?   The hierarchy amongst female relations will always be a mystery to one such as me.  It has something to do with shoes, diamonds and boobies, I think.

Another thing, we will look in National Geographic and make faces at the people with metal plates in their lower lip, granted the fake zeppelins make a little more sense, but you still are the biggest freaks in America.  Tattoo’s and body piercing are common all over the world.  You and your bazookas are going to end up being a running joke for archaeologists thousands of years from now.

Ok, ok, in their defense, a really well done job is a sight to behold, but ideal? What is ideal?  Women may put more premise on morocas than men do.  I suppose it could be worse.  Ass’s for instance, there is a man for every butt. For every size and shape, there is a guy out there whose shaking his head, going “mmmm yeaaah” but even knowing this, women would be getting butt implants or reductions. The only thing that prevents it is that they can’t hide it.  How are they going to not sit for a month and tell people that they didn’t just get a butt implant, the other possible excuses could only be more embarrassing.

Back to ideal.   There is a rarity, the girls with little cupcakes who hold themselves, (no pun intended) as if they had big boobs.  Not bitchy, but confident, open and with some grace.  They can convince you that their Knockers are a few sizes larger with mere charm.   Especially for the long run a girl’s outward attitude is more important than cup size. Gravity is a bitch.  Do I have to say more, should I be more graphic?  Oh yes, for those well endowed your time, well enjoy it, but I would not be such a bitch.

The ladies who have smaller stacks, well I have a theory.  I don’t know exactly how everything works.  I suppose there are plenty of things that could go wrong, things I don’t ever want to know about, but there is a possibility, with the things that happen with age, that one could be 35 with three kids and have naturally perky and perfect…….breasts.