My breasts are plotting to take over the world. This also means, they are plotting against me. They are growing in size, despite my recent weight loss, and are completely out of control. I can't find things that fit me because of the breastage. Even my parents complain that the breasts tend to hang out, and they are supposed to love me despite the fact that my boobs don't fit into my tops.
For example, note what happens to them when I get drunk.
This is me sober:
Yes, there is cleavage, but I am aware of it, and in control.
And this is me drunk:
The breasts are taking over. They are planning to jump out of that shirt at any moment, and I'm very surprised they didn't take advantage of my inebriated state and make a run for it.
Actually, I think they are waiting until they gain a little more in size, and then will make a run for it so they can take over the world. It'll be like in that movie, with the giant BOOB - anyone have ANY idea what I'm talking about? I have a suspicion that it's Monty Python, but I don't know.
Anyways, I can't wait for THAT day! The day when my breasts make their final leap and leave me forever. These breasts are in my way and getting more annoying by the second!
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
5 days ago