Monday, March 15, 2004

just lop that fucker off.

boobs.
boobs are not important. mine are very humble anyway. as well they should be. there's certainly nothing going on to get upity about.

i think one of them is broken, so i might as well trade up.

this could be the best thing that ever happened to me. i could transport some of the ample expanses of my ass, and have it crafted into a stunning rack. ive never really wanted a stunning rack, but im certainly not opposed to the idea. and ive always wanted a smaller ass.

instead of looking like a chubby pear with two squat legs poking out, i could achieve the elusive ideal some people refer to as 'proportion', or 'symmetry'.

so. boob. do your worst. freak out and start growing weird little appendages. start twitching independently of my will, in time with any music you choose. start talking shit to other boobs as they walk by. whatever you want, man. keep antagonizing me. see what happens.

i suggest you take a little time to ponder pamela anderson's 'before' picture. fucker.

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