(no subject)

[andrewducker]

So what's it like being a girl?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Comments

[catamorphism.livejournal.com]

It's kind of squooshy.

[autodidactic.livejournal.com]

It's like having to work twice as hard for half the recognition while your audience screams at you to "cheer up" and not "take it so personally".

It's like being subscribed to as a magazine or a cable television station.

It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.

And it's occasionally funny.

A.

[drainboy.livejournal.com]

But you get, like, constant access to boobies and that.

Hur-hur-hur

(methinks maybe I should have posted this anonymously)

[ekatarina.livejournal.com]

However for many of us, the thrill is gone.

No really, gone.

Katja, who sometimes would like to leave them on the dresser for a day or two.

[alycekat.livejournal.com]

For many decades, I longed for boobies. Truly, I did.

Then I started to fatten up, enough for some of it to pile up, all the way from my tummy to my titties (at long last). And at first, I was pleased. I could finally buy festive fun bras!(you know - the kinds they dont make with size AA cups)
I was so thrilled!

But then I kept fattening. There began to be "squooshy" stuff in places I (in my ignorance) didnt think boobies ought properly to extend into (like beneath the arm pits).

Finally, it dawned on me, that this stuff is the just the same squishy fat that is on my tummy, only mounted to my rib cage about 8 inches higher up.

And it occurred to me to wonder then, what all the fuss is about. I mean, it's just extra body fat, really. How come putting a couple of nipples atop it makes it so sexy? How come it's not sexy, when it slinks just a few inches farther down, or skulks 'round behind?

True, it's fat that happens to have special accessories made for it by people like the folks at Fredricks. And this, I grant you, is kind of a fun plus. I mean, they dont make all that lacy festive stuff to hitch up your tum tum (alas).

But really, these squishy bits are not quite what I anticipated! You see, my main experience with boobies, until I finally grew my own at nearly age 40, was from porn & women's magazines.

Now *those* boobies are another matter entirely! They're sculptural; they jut, they pose. They look like something Michaelangelo might have carved, if he'd only been a straight man.

I was begining to consider sending 'em back, on the grounds that they were not as advertised.

I asked my husband how come mine didnt look like that. He answered "Because yours are real!" He should know, I guess, being as he's squished more boobies than I have, in his day.

Sigh. So much for authenticity, I guess. Oh well. Another childhood illusion, ruined by reality. All I can say is, for all of you gals who think you'd like to swap for a dickie, consider my tale. For all we know, a pecker just might be a whole lot peskier than you think!

[andrewducker]

I agree about breasts. Now I'm not blinded by youth any more, breasts are still cool, but I'm befuddled by the coolness.

It's amazing that a couple of curvy pencil lines can evoke a sudden rush of feeling, and it shows that the feeling is something inbuilt that completely overrides any kind of common sense that what you're staring at is several ounces of fat.

[alycekat.livejournal.com]

I have a theory, that deep in the male genome is something that makes them notice the slightest bit of motion. (Would have been an important thing, back in the stone age, when survival meant being able to stalk small swift prey.) So now, any giggle or swish in their immediate evnironment, and the hind brain kicks right in, as if on cue. "Red Alert! Somethin's movin' around out there in the bush, guys."

Obviously, I'm mostly kidding. But it does seem to kick in at the instinctive level, and it seems to kick in a little bit ahead of puberty & actual interest in getting together with the opposite sex. Glad to know you're in control enough to know it's irrational. But I'm also glad toknow they're still cool, too. :) ~A

[wordofblake.livejournal.com]

There is quite a good Dilbert strip where at "Sensitivity Training" (or something) they are asked to imagine themselves as women, it goes something like "people are pleased to see me and smile for no reason, I'm never going back"