Friday, October 12, 2012

Day 142, October 12

I was watching a talk show yesterday, featuring the subject of making one's body look better than it actually is.  (What woman can resist that?)  It turned out the secret was in one's undergarments.

One of the undergarments in question was a bra that not only lifted the girls but squeezed them together to make the cleavage appear deeper.  I remember, years back, advertisements for a bra that lifted and separated the girls.  (Only they weren't called girls back then.)

So, in one generation, we're supposed to lift and separate.  In the next, we're supposed to lift and squeeze together.  Is it any wonder that my breasts are confused?  I'm thinking of taking them in for therapy, but I'm not sure where to go.  Should I go to a psychologist for breasts?  Or should I head to a breast surgeon?  Not for surgery, you understand, but for counseling for my girls.  It's a ponderment, all right.

Gem for the day:  lifted and separated, or lifted and squeezed, my girls are happiest when they hang free.

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