Sunday, December 12, 2010
The Boob Whisperer
Hello, I am the Boob Whisperer.
I am the Pied Piper of the breast.
You see, I go places and breasts come to me. I don't seek them out, and I most certainly don't holler their name. They just come to me, like moths to a flame. And they are always naked. It really makes for a different kind of moment
Let me give you an example. Last night, I was coming home from a candlelit plantation tour in the middle of nowhere, of the middle of nowhere Maryland. Oh yes, costumes, confederates, and all. We were really out there, both figuratively and literally. It was an interesting and fun experience.
Anyway, to get home, we had to drive down this dark country road. It was a foggy night and no one was out. I look out my window for a brief moment and there is a woman standing in her bedroom window, topless, for all the world to see. One minute I was seeing trees, the next an eyeful of boob. In her defense, I bet only her second and third cousins go down that country road.
My husband, poor man, cried his typical, it's so unfair cry. Why was I the only one who saw them? What magic do I possess? You see, he is a lover of breasts, believing a bad pair does not exist. Bless his soul. And they are all being wasted on his straight wife's eyes. I swear, he would be a much happier man if I were a little bi and could share the same pleasure in them.
At least I get pleasure in laughing at his reaction after each boob exposure. As a Boob Whisperer, these stories pop up when you least expect it. Maybe it's a friend of a friend who enthusiastically shows me her fake breasts, and insists I touch them. Awkward! Of course, I do. It would be 21st century rude not to.
It could be a wardrobe malfunction, a VERY enthusiastic Brazilian hook up/boob slip, or a simple accidental boob grab of a neighbor. I really don't know why it happens to me but it does. It's like the psychics who have spirits talk to them, except mine are breasts and they just stare at me.
Well, it could be worse. I could be getting an eyeful of plumbers butt.
Labels:
accidental boob grab,
boob whisperer,
boobs,
husband,
marriage,
mr. rant,
pied piper,
whisperer
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Congrats - you mentioned "boob" or "breast" eleven times in that post. hehehehe
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about sightings being wasted on the less-interested. When a Brasileira friend of ours got a boob job she was quick to thrust them into our hands and insist we check out the new goods.
I have yet to experience a guy doing the parallel thing. Now THAT would be a handful!
Rachel,
ReplyDeleteThis is hilarious! I think I do have the curse of the fat and ugly contractors butt crack that seems to show up in front of me when I least expect and it couldn't be further from anything desirable to see... :)
Ray