Pssshh. I could go on.
These are all the things I miss out on or become instantly self conscious because I have a rack. I haven't been able to wear a sexy, strappy bikini top since I was a teenager. Even then I was a moving violation. Strapless dresses or tops? Please...and forget about trying to button anything. Clothes hang differently. Always awkward and twisted. Certain styles make me look like I'm packing balloons. I try hard to dress so I don't look sloppy. Not easy with extra large fun bags. Bras suck. Even when fitted with expensive designer bras they still dig and bind and don't fit quite right. And geez they are ugly. Not to mention the constant shoulder and neck pain from hoisting the extra weight. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining about my endowments. It is what it sounds like though, huh?
The "girls" are an extension of my personality. I do not wish to jinx their very much appreciated existence. I only want you to understand my life blessed with twin peaks. I'm leered at by indecent men. Horn taps and cat calls are part of my daily outings. Some men, and women too, have a difficult time making eye contact with me because I decided it was a good idea to wear cleavage. Even my gays love my rack! Look, there are most definitely larger racks out there. I am not saying my rack is the best or largest. It's definitely natural! I'm just acknowledging I have one and am darn proud of it. But you there. You. The guy that thinks it's appropriate to follow the thick chick with a large rack around Publix while drooling...I could hear your neanderthal grunts of approval and heavy breathing. Dude. Go buy a magazine or something. Sheesh!
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