The Comedians Wife

The Comedians Wife
If it's good luck when it rains on your wedding day, what does it mean if a hurricane blows through?

Friday, July 23, 2010

The mourning of my breasts!





Whether you know them as boobies, or tits, sweater kittens or milk jugs, breasts are an obsession in the world today .  I would like to take a minute to mourn the passing of mine.  Goodbye old girls, you were always so good to me.  You put me on the map junior year of high school.  You got me into countless clubs with your perky posture.  You kept the most horrific of bridesmaid dresses up, and never let a nip slip on the dance floor.  In your final months you showed your true colors by sacrificing yourselves for the life of my child.  You endured the most horrific pain and ungodly transformations. You changed shapes and colors.  Spewed weird things.  Mystified the most astute of breast men.  Your champions in my eyes girls. You deserve countless pictures of your glory days on the mantle, and you will always be remembered as a great pair of double D's!  


That being said....Hello oatmeal packets! You know what I am referring to right? My new breasts!  The ones that have been left behind after all the sacrificing of the old girls.  Two little measly looking, oatmeal packet like breasts, that just remind me  how unfair fake boobies really are! Sure I should be proud of them and tell them they are beautiful every day, but frankly, I don't want to.  I admire those women who love there breasts no matter what.  They sit in mommy groups praising the gift they gave there child by breast feeding.  They wear those cow utters like a badge of honor!  I wish I had the courage!  Maybe I am just to damn vain! Or maybe I have just lived in the land of fake tits way to long! Thank you Los Angeles. Now not only are you responsible for the demise of my soul, but also my feelings on breasts!


Yesterday as I was folding the laundry, I picked up my new barely a C cup bra, and sighed. Oh well. At least running will be easier now. As I began to fold the rest, my husband walked by and said" I miss your old jugs babe." 


"EXCUSE ME?"


(Insert record screeching sounds, and a face that looks like a deer caught in head lights!)


"Do you know what these FUN BAGS have done for this family!"  As the list went on and my rant became a revival of my breasts, I realized just how silly I was being. I mean my god, they are just a bunch of mammary glands and muscle tissue put together on a chest.  Every second person in the world has a pair and to be honest I have seen just as many men with them these days!  


So no more self wallowing over the new condition of my breasts!  Thanks for the mammary's girls!!!  You are the best! 




Side Note: To all the fake boobied girls in exercise class, running around the bars at night, flaunting your perfectly positioned watermelons!  Okay YES I am jealous.  But ENOUGH! We get it!  Plus you are all cheaters!!! 



















5 comments:

  1. Ok so if I wasn't afraid before, I am terrified now of having a child. So... you're telling me they shrink?!! Mine can't shrink!! They're not that big to begin with!! Love the blog. It always makes me laugh (and sometimes cry).

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  2. I wonder if a man's testicles turn into oatmeal packets too?

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  3. Dear Anonymous, That's hysterical, and god I hope so!

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  4. wait... you're now a small C?! please. talk to me when your Cs turn to As like mine! xx

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  5. This was the best so far! hahahahhaa! Although, I cannot relate...my boobs are a perfect C and very Perky :)

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