Dear [insert your cunt here] ,
Whether you were the girl I dated for years and couldn’t remember your middle name, or the one month one night stand(?) that wouldn’t admit to being over 40, or you were the one of many fat girls that date raped me or tried to; the question has always been the same:
Why don’t you pay enough attention to my mammary glands?
I found a photo from the day i was born, close to 30 years ago and I think this answers the question.
Hopefully when you came into this world you weren’t greeted with the same harsh and foul example of BOOB that I was, a huge one resembling a massive purple onion.
I don’t recall the taste but hopefully the teat on your 1st day into this world was much more forgiving and less scary that this monster that was forced upon me which to suckle. Such a behemoth and frighting beast it was… with its immense gravitational pull this breast has kept me grounded for nearly 30 years.
Here I sit 30 years later typing on my Mamma’s internet installation connection telling you the tell-tell signs of the misery design from molecular milk of one’s own father’s seed, goddamn if it ain’t addiction.
Nevertheless tits were never my forte.
For example, once a large gal tried to rape me in an attic after an extravagant wine crawl. She pounced my face with the ol’ kissy-kissy and I weaseled out of the mess when my brain came to a jar expecting a blow-job from this huge carn-dick-ulous creature when she asked, ” Why don’t you play with my tits.” Suddenly my mind came up
from its wake with this questioning jolt.
What the fuckin’ Christ was I doing? A blow job for this? I mumbled something along the lines of: “My mom had really big boobs and um you know ugh, um, I don’t know why to how to appreciate the like of that,” she took to this like a smitten child.
Thanks brains and Maw for that save.
Anyhoo,
Mammilla was made for milking and I don’t like to suck.
—Sorry
Tags: big boobs, internet installation, kissy kissy, mammary glands, purple onion
