Monday, January 10, 2005
Titties galore. On Friday night, Penny asked if I could do her a favour. I was expecting her to ask something like if I could rummage in the twelve bags of garbage behind her house for an important document that she thinks she might have thrown away, but instead it was to drive her to the laundromat the next morning, after which time she would buy me a slap-up breakfast at Ray.
Magnanimously, I accepted.
On Saturday, two coffees and a french toast later, I was in the middle of drawing a diagram on the back of an old envelope to explain Tash's boobs when Tash walked up and said hello. It was the most amazing 'speak of the devil' I've encountered in some time. Hi Tash, if you're reading this. You know, it's been a really booby weekend. That morning, Penny's house guest was reading her copy of Vogue which has a guide to plastic surgery in the back. We were talking about how crap fake tits are, because in profile they're too round on top and not round enough underneath. They look okay in bras, but very freakish when naked.
My theory of boobies, as outlined on the back of the envelope, and now enshrined on Penny's fridge, is that the key is in the rounded underside of the boob; the top surface should be straight. The real litmus test is how the boobs look in a low-cut top with no bra. As for the cleavage, it shouldn't look too top-heavy or too pushed together; you should just get the shadow of the inner curves of the tits. Penny calls it the Jennifer Aniston look. Well good luck Jen: you'll need those tits now that you've kicked your husband to the kerb for the outrageous suggestion that you might like to have kids now you're in your mid-thirties and he's over forty. Let's face it baby, you've had plenty of chances to make 'serious movies' and what did you make? Stuff like Along Came Polly.
Anyway. And then last night, Penny inadvertently flashed her tits down the hallway to her house guest. Such hospitality.
Magnanimously, I accepted.
On Saturday, two coffees and a french toast later, I was in the middle of drawing a diagram on the back of an old envelope to explain Tash's boobs when Tash walked up and said hello. It was the most amazing 'speak of the devil' I've encountered in some time. Hi Tash, if you're reading this. You know, it's been a really booby weekend. That morning, Penny's house guest was reading her copy of Vogue which has a guide to plastic surgery in the back. We were talking about how crap fake tits are, because in profile they're too round on top and not round enough underneath. They look okay in bras, but very freakish when naked.
My theory of boobies, as outlined on the back of the envelope, and now enshrined on Penny's fridge, is that the key is in the rounded underside of the boob; the top surface should be straight. The real litmus test is how the boobs look in a low-cut top with no bra. As for the cleavage, it shouldn't look too top-heavy or too pushed together; you should just get the shadow of the inner curves of the tits. Penny calls it the Jennifer Aniston look. Well good luck Jen: you'll need those tits now that you've kicked your husband to the kerb for the outrageous suggestion that you might like to have kids now you're in your mid-thirties and he's over forty. Let's face it baby, you've had plenty of chances to make 'serious movies' and what did you make? Stuff like Along Came Polly.
Anyway. And then last night, Penny inadvertently flashed her tits down the hallway to her house guest. Such hospitality.
