THESE USELESS SACKS OF FAT
It seems that all my friends have been having boob troubles lately. The whole saga makes me pondering what the hell we need boobs for. Sure they are handy if you want to breast feed. But what other purpose do they serve? Guys would hate a boob-less world, yes. But they'd find something else to play with, I'm sure.
It just seems boobs are more trouble than they're worth. There's the mundane day to day trouble -- like finding a comfortable bra that doesn't pinch, poke, or scratch. You can spend hours pondering the pros and cons of underwires, pushups, demis and enhancers. Victoria Secret even touts it's "technologically advanced bras" almost as much as cars brag about their Stabilitrak systems. You'll pay about the same for a comfortable bra as you would for a Toyota Camry, too.
There's also back pain from carrying around these useless sacks of fat all day - not to mention the pain they cause when you try to run. Sure, guys like to watch them bounce around, but it gives us girls whiplash.
People who have read this blog for awhile are also aware of the dilemma boobs face with gravity and age. The older I get, for example, the more I have to worry about someday having to move my boobs out of the way to put my shoes on. And don't get me started on independently pointing nipples that never see true North.
But those seem like minor irritants compared to what some women go through. A friend of mine who is a fantastic mother of two was recently exercising when her boob started leaking fluid and blood. Since she long since finished nursing, and didn't give birth to any vampires, she went to the doctor immediately. At the doctor, they made her go through a painful procedure which involved inserting a tube (this is where I start grabbing my own boobs in self defense, by the way) into the nipple to see where the ducts are plugged up. They then made her go through several mammograms, where they squished her boobs into a metal device until they were the shape of pancakes. Her only moment of salvation was when her boob squirted vile liquid all over the sadist nurse who was putting it in the vice. Sweet revenge.
I have two other friends who are going through the worst boob-scare of all - breast cancer. They are both in their 30s and were told they were too young to have breast cancer. But cancer isn't a sign at the fair saying you aren't tall enough to ride a ride. It pretty much lets anybody on. My friends have been so incredibly strong and brave through all of this, it has given me perspective on my own life. Any time you can go through a month without getting your boobs squished or prodded, you have nothing to complain about, I say.
The thing is, as useless and painful as boobs seem to be at times, they can also be a source of power. I have to admit I've gotten out of many speeding tickets thanks to these babies. The girls, when displayed properly in a low cut blouse, also nets me discounts from my mechanic and butcher. They are almost better than double coupon day!
So I guess I'll hang on to them for now ... at least until my car is working properly and I can figure out a way to resist speeding around those damn poodles who insist on driving. If I could only find a comfortable bra ...

I would assert that they actually ARE double coupon day. My bad - that was a lay-up. Subquestion - what's worse, drinking and blogging (or commenting) or allowing late-night delirium to infiltrate one's thoughts before clicking "post?"
Posted by: Mike Barash | October 04, 2005 at 10:58 PM
We men have not been clear enough in our thanks for breasts.
Your assertion that we would find something else to play with in a tit-less world sits uncomfortably; what a cold, cruel world it would be without them.
Please accept my heartfelt thanks for all the beautiful breasts in the world.
Wombat
Posted by: Wombat and Midwest | October 05, 2005 at 07:34 AM
I am very sorry to hear about your friends' medical issues. I hope that everything turns out ok for them.
I must not be wearing my low-cut blouses properly as I have never gotten out of a ticket. That is sad. What could I be doing wrong? I am a D so that should count for something right???? Great, now I have given myself a complex and am worried that I am wearing my clothes incorrectly. Help...need therapy, have to go now
Posted by: Jewels | October 05, 2005 at 09:44 AM
I feel this entry, in ever-so-many ways.
I have wished them away many times, particularly when learning to play pool, sneaking through holes in fences, and sleeping on my stomach (which I do every night).
You're right, they do pull their own weight, so to speak. I'll never get used to that glazed-over look on a boy's face...but I do know it means ask for what I want, NOW!
Posted by: Helena | October 05, 2005 at 04:53 PM
I'm a big fan of boobs of all shapes and sizes. One of my big fears is that plastic surgery will get so prevalent, that in the future every woman will have the exact same boobs. That would be as bad as the existence of the same exact Starbucks on every corner.
By the way, I've heard that the Nike sports bra is the best thing out there to hold yourself up.
And thank you, ladies, for your breasts.
Posted by: Neil | October 05, 2005 at 07:27 PM