When you’re a tween girl you wait for an even more important mistress: The Boobie Fairy. Once she shows up you are rewarded with attention of 6th grade boys.
Alas, the Boobie Fairy never came to visit me. Or maybe she came, but was in a real rush to get somewhere else, and and she said she’d be back later, but that never happened.
Start going to a gym though and you’ll see that women have taken the matter into their own hands. There’s a whole lot of plastic bouncing around on those treadmills.
Pro-plastic surgery women always say the same thing, “I did it for me.” Anti-plastic surgery women like to say patronizing things like, “It’s so sad you’re influenced by the media and male-dominated society.” But I think those are the women who already have at least a C cup.
October, 17, 2006. That was the day the Boobie Fairy finally returned to visit me, because I was pregnant. Henri was still in denial about the reality of my gestation, until I woke up that morning and he discovered new playthings attached to my chest. But when I stopped nursing…(boo hoo) the girls went away. Further evidence that God is a) a woman (surely a male God would not remove said playthings) and b) She is just a little bit bitchy sometimes.
I think like 98% of the women at the Adela Garcia competition were well endowed, if not by nature than by silicone. It’s hard to compete against those curvy statistics.
Maybe some day I’ll wind the lottery, “do it for me” and get some implants. For now though, I’m content being a novelty. Plus, let’s face it, clumsy as I am the first time I try to run on the treadmill after getting surgery I’d probably knock myself out.
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