As I’m writing this someone from Spokane, Washington is calling me. I don’t think I know you, so I’m not answering. Sorry.

I have a confession to make.

I just can’t hide it any longer. I’ve tried to fix this issue, but there’s only so many options that don’t involve major surgery or dangerous hormonal supplements.

Please don’t shun me forever. I swear, I’d have bigger boobs if I could. What? You thought that was going somewhere else? Nah, I’ve already had a slew of organs removed from my body. I’ve reached my quota for this period of my life.

But let me explain.

So, there’s this song by Deirdre Flint called “The Boob Fairy“. It’s magical and it goes like this:

“When I was in my teenage years, I did just what I should
I listened to my mother and I was kind and sweet and good
And my friends and I did rituals and I prayed with all my might
That this would be the evening that she’d stop along her flight
Well, that was several years ago and that chick’s long overdue
And it’s time I came to terms with something plainly clear to you.

The boob fairy never came for me
No, the boob fairy never came for me
Okay, I’m spunky and I’m cute and I’ve got a great personality
But the boob fairy never came for me

Well, we were the third house on a country drive, I thought
Maybe she just got lost, so I hung my bra on the mailbox
Till the neighbors took it off
And all my friends got visits and expanded through the years
And left me wailing to the gods buying training bras at Sears
Still I harbor hopes, she’ll come for me, I know she will
I’d get ’em done myself if she’d agree to split the bill

The boob fairy never came for me”

You see, I have this sister, whom I may have mentioned once or twice. And she did, in fact, pray to the Boob Fairy. Who I assume looks something like this:



Like seriously, my sister just got like, ALL the boobs. I mean, that fairy fucking STALKED my sister. She snaps bras. They just spontaneously give in to the awesome force of breasticle bouncing and break the hell apart. She just absorbed all the boob dust and left none for me.

Selfish bitch.

But it’s cool. You know why?


Yeah. I bought one. I own up to it. And let me tell you, my boobs may feel like a block of styrafoam is perched beneath my shirt, but they look fantastic. Easy fix.

I’m lucky, because as the song goes on to discuss:

“This isn’t a song about boobs. Not really. The boobs are just a set of
metaphors to symbolize everyone’s fear of human inadequacy. Hey! We’ve
all felt the pain of being dissed by one fairy or another, so during
the next refrain I want you to join in with your own fairy that never
paid a call. Maybe it’s the height fairy or the butt nymph. Men, maybe
it’s the pectoral or hair fairy or maybe some other fairy you just
want to mumble about. Look, nobody’s going to ask you to enunciate.”

Everyone has some sort of body issue. I used to call an ex of mine Shrimp Hands. There’s no glove in the world that would make those fingers look like they belong on a full grown adult instead of an 8 year old. And penis enlargement? Fucking owe dude.

And if you’re going bald? Sure there’s some cute hats out there.

You can even hide your baldness by being a Fancy Fucking Unicorn. FFU’s are very popular nowadays. But eventually, that hats gotta come off, and then the glare from the ceiling light will bounce of that shiny round forehead blinding all unsuspecting bystanders.

But the boob thing? Let’s be honest, by the time the shirt comes off the “other party” has lost all blood flow to their brain. They aren’t thinking, they’re just going “BOOBIES!!! I like boobies.” (note to readers, if this sentence every actually comes out of their mouth upon de-shirting. Put the shirt back on.) Unless you’ve literally got pancakes with nipples, you’re probably set.

Sure, maybe afterwards when you do actually put your shirt back on they may be like…

“Gee, did they just shrink and grow? Is this, like, some weird porny Alice in Wonderland shit?”

But the only opportunity they’ll have to investigate is when the shirt’s off. And Alice in Wonderland references almost never come up during the sex. Never ending cycle.

So I guess the moral is….

All’s fair in love and boob manipulation?

But if you have a tiny penis you’re screwed.


6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. newbie
    Nov 10, 2012 @ 12:16:28

    Gotta tell you though, I was small before pregnancy, nice during, freakin 32 D’s while nursing, but after two rounds of that I’m back to needing a SUPERwonder bra. I figure by this point he can’t say anything since he had his fun time boobies for over 5 years!


  2. jeneralinsanity
    Nov 11, 2012 @ 21:09:52

    I’m right there with you, sister! I’m pretty sure that when the boob fairy FINALLY came to visit me, she was at the ass end of working a double-shift AND I was laying on my stomach. She said “I don’t have time for this fucking shit. My wings are fucking killing me!” and just sprayed her magic booby dust and let it lie where it landed. Which was on my ass.
    Then the ass fairy came the same night so I got a double dose of “make it bigger” powder. And now my body makes no sense.
    Not to mention that I seem to have lost a cup with each child…
    *sigh* Life is so un-fair sometimes…


  3. nosleepandcrazy
    Nov 18, 2012 @ 05:39:53

    Yeah yeah, I have big boobs. You has the boob envy, but I have the, Brain/tummy/height/skin/ most likely ovary envy goin on over here, dear sister. AND do not forget, ten years from now, your boobs will be right there and mine will be …not right there …unless I wear a bra 24/7 (yes including when I sleep) and MAYBE, jusy maybe my boobs will be right there… kinda right there, I hope


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