Big Breasted Broad in a small minded world

I truly believe that people underestimate the power of boobs. They change everything…take it from someone who knows. There’s a certain mystical power that turns men into imbeciles without notice. In high school, I was the super-intelligent honors student with a chest you could iron your clothes on. I was so self-conscious about it and vowed to someday treat myself to a top-notch set of cans. I was ultimately tired of people viewing me as the smart kid when all I wanted was to be the girl guys drooled over. I couldn’t comprehend how that would be anything but awesome.

At 24 years old, I decided to take the plunge and buy the bosoms of my dreams. Shopping for them was rather fun. I had the opportunity to sift through hundreds of pictures in the tit portfolio in my doctor’s office, and then choose the ones that I would like to rent to own… yes I financed. Who knew that was even an option? I took out an unsecured loan to procure my surefire man magnets. I’m not sure how they handle defaults on loans of this type. It’s not as if they can repossess these assets. Maybe you have to let the loan officer motorboat you once a month as a penalty fee. I have to say that I was extremely happy with the results and couldn’t wait to test drive those bad boys. It’s a ridiculously big shock to the system the first time you’re on the receiving end of one of the eye rapings that goes along with being a little on the buxom side. Nothing can prepare you for the dirty old man glare that inevitably is on the horizon. I didn’t account for all the gross middle-aged perverts, homeless people and array of frat boy jackasses that were about to invade my world. Unfortunately, you can’t filter out the undesirables.

I had come from a place where my opinion was not only solicited, but highly regarded. People generally wanted to hear what I had to say. I was under the delusion that I would now be some type of complete package with the brain/boob combo. Not the case at all. Evidently, nobody wants to hear what Boobarella has to say. It was as if I had all-together lost every ounce of intelligence I had ever claimed as my own. Wow… what a bitch! My foolproof plan had somehow backfired. I wanted to be smart again and have strangers value my viewpoint. In my twenties, I didn’t handle this all that well. Holy shit, I was damn near genius, trapped in a bimbo’s body. What had I done? Now I had random hillbillies screaming such complimentary phrases as ‘nice milkers’ while I shopped in the produce department at Giant Eagle. There were some periods where I deeply regretted my decision.

My attitude has definitely changed in the past few years. I clearly use my enhancements to my advantage. If I’m having a bad hair day, I just wear a low-cut shirt to off-set the problem. I find in many instances, people don’t even realize I have a head. I can now appreciate the fact that my boobs get me out of traffic tickets and a lot of bar tabs. At the risk of using an awful metaphor, I feel like my intelligence is now the pearl inside the oyster. It’s an added bonus for those guys who are wise enough to give up digging for clams (stupid, slutty clams I might add). I’ve learned how to filter people with help from my girls. If most people aren’t expecting me to be a fountain of intellect, it sure makes things fun. There are times where I play borderline retarded just for kicks. Nothing’s more fun than pretending you’re too stupid to remember the Affliction tee-shirt wearing asshole at the bar’s name. Sure, I still get the inappropriate comments at times, but I now find it highly amusing. I was wearing a red turtleneck at work a few weeks back, when a sweet old man asked me, “Oh dear, is red the color for can awareness now? I thought it was pink.” Well, at least the wrinkled old douche gets credit in my book for calling them cans.


5 Responses to “Big Breasted Broad in a small minded world”

  1. 1 the neighbor
    March 29, 2010 at 8:25 pm

    Bwa-ha-ha-ha-haha! You really hit the nail on the can, er, head this time!

  2. 2 Sweet Trouble
    March 29, 2010 at 9:14 pm

    Truly great. With my upcoming can job and being in my early 40’s I look forward to how I will handle the new view. Not of myself, but of the observations I’m sure to make in other people. Everyone knows how men are, but I’m most curious to see how women treat me. As it is, most women find me extremely approachable and want to be my friend. But something tells me this will change. Am I living with false hope that women will see past my juggs and still like my charming personality? Probably. But who cares, cause when the bra comes off, they’re not the one I’ll be wanting to impress.

  3. 3 Geocab
    March 30, 2010 at 1:31 pm

    Personally, I’m not a fan of fake boobs. I don’t like the way they look at all. And while I do like cleavage as much as the next guy, when that bra comes off, I don’t really care about size, just more of how they feel against my skin, whether that be my hands, tongue, chest, etc. They can look good any size. And let’s not even get into nipples, they can make or break a nice breast! lol

  4. 4 Cindy
    October 3, 2012 at 11:17 am

    I bought my own set at 44.. And yes – I too financed. That said, they weren’t purchased for others as much as for myself. Whether it speaks of low self-esteem or simply poor body image, there was an amazing sense of “YES!” when I looked at my body post-surgery. I’m balanced, (cans to keister) my clothes fit better, and of course the best part is how I see my shape now. I happily claim curvy up AND downstairs.

    Getting out of speeding tickets? Frosting on the cupcake!

  5. September 22, 2014 at 2:39 pm

    Hi! I’ve been following your blog for a while now and finally got
    the bravery to go ahead andd gve you a shout out from
    Porter Tx! Just wanted tto tell you keep up the good job!

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About the Broad

A humorous look at dating in your mid-thirties and the other hilarious things that happen around us on a daily basis.

March 2010
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