| Current mood: |  listless |
| Current music: | whatever launchcast has decided for me |
does this dress make me look fat?
okay, so, to make up to my millions of male readers out there, I will now talk about boobs. I dunno why, just want to talk about them. now, what I can't understand is why chicks with a huge rack (C, D, triple I, etc.) talk about how they wish they had bigger tits. come on now! filling your chest with saline or silicone will not make up for the space in your head, just ask britney spears. for those of you who don't know, your tits are big enough if they're larger than your head. trust me, you don't need to get any bigger. if you've ever watched any of the daytime talk shows at one point or another (doesn't matter which one, they all talk about the same thing eventually) you'll know what I mean. no joke, I once saw a woman on there with an "M" cup size. before then, I had no idea they could go that high. this woman looked like she had stuffed larger-than-regulation-size basketballs into her shirt. I kept expecting shaquille o'neal to come out and slam dunk her chest or something. the amount of saline that was used in those things could keep her from ever needing an IV drip.
this has led me to a new theory concerning miss america competitors. you see, I, like many people I know, have been led to believe these were the girls next door, though never anywhere near where I've lived, that's for sure. but i realized something. not only do these women have cup sizes that reach farther into the alphabet than most of them have memorized, but they also wear high heels so ridiculously high that even professional stilt walkers are weary. which has led me to this conclusion: miss america contestants and supermodels are actually a separate breed of humans that if they were in normal circumstances, they would all lean dangerously backwards. kind of like that sean lennon video (as if anyone knows what the hell I'm talking about). very very far back, 45 degree angles when standing straight. so you see why you shouldn't be upset with these poor women, they're just trying to stand up straight for once in their lives, hence all the top-heavy weights and such.
now, many of you are prolly thinking the reason I say this stuff is b/c I'm jealous. well your right. but I have a right to be, I'm not complaining of a C being too small, I would kill for a C. actually, I've had a friend of mine willing to donate a portion of her bust size (sorry, I'm running out of synonyms for "breasts") to me. so thanks to people like her, the smaller of us will not be going on and on for several paragraphs about big chests much longer. besides, to quote some comedian I saw, "they're not small. they're exquisite rare miniatures."
another thing i can't stand about women is how they complain about everything. honestly. I mean, they complain about tomb raider being a sexist video game, b/c it depicts a woman with increasingly large body parts which would most assuredly get in her way where she actually weilding automatic weapons. what these women need to keep in mind is the impossibly high standards video games create for men as well. I mean, dear god, look at duke nukem! no guy looks like that! at least not with steriods, and certainly not one that can put his arms close enough together to reload a shotgun. so don't complain about little girls having to live up to the standard of beauty and agility that tomb raider presents, for the boys have the standard of huge muscles and sexism that every other video game presents.
I also wish women wouldn't nag about the toilet seat left up. what the hell's the point of it? if they would take all their energy they use to nag the men and actually put it down themselves, the world would be a quieter, er, better place. And might I point out that the reverse doesn't happen, men don't complain about women leaving the toilet seat down. they just lift it and move on. or splash it about everywhere, depending on what mood they're in. But I garantee you no woman has ever been forced to sleep on the couch after a day of stony silence from their husband when they left the toilet seat down. and if anyone can provide me with documented proof of it actually happening, I will never write in this journal again. and before you begin celebrating, remeber that it ain't gonna happen.
okay, now that I've successfully alienated my many female readers (ha, there's less of them than there are males anyways), I do believe I will it up to you to post comments on my raging anti-feminism. go on, you know you want to.
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