Boob Jobs

In an attempt to be glamorous and beautiful in a society that holds up super models and actresses that don't even look real as the standard, women have become obsessed with fad diets, spa treatments, artificial hair color and plastic surgery.  One of the most popular body sculpting surgeries for women my age is breast implants or "boob jobs".  Me personally...I'm all natural, baby!  However, I know many women who've had them.  Two of my best friends in California had boob jobs many years ago, and it really helped them with their self-esteem.  What kills me, though, is when a man buys a woman a pair of boobs, and then gets upset because she wants to show them off.  Hell, when I got my belly button pierced, I wanted to show everyone.  If I paid thousands of dollars for a pair of beautiful new boobs after being flat chested all my life...damn straight I'd be showing those puppies off!  Give a girl a new pair of boobs and a couple shots of tequila...sorry guys...but the shirt is coming up and everyone will be admiring the doctor's handy work.

When discussing this subject with a friend, I was reminded of a funny incident that took place last year.  I went and spent two weeks visiting my friends and family in San Diego.  I stayed with one of my large breasted friends, and one evening we compared boobs...size, texture, asthetic appeal, etc.  She had her implants above the muscle.  Our other friend had hers under the muscle, so we had to compare hers too.  Normal girl stuff.  It was a regular boob fest!  I found myself wondering if men sit around comparing each other's penis'.  "That's a mighty fine penis, Fred.  Too bad it doesn't have a slight curve upward like mine...women really dig the curvature man! Check it out."

Later that night, we all went out on the town.  (There are pictures of this night out on my profile.)  We have our high school foursome back together for the first time in many years...and we were looking for trouble!  Two of them are married and two of us are single, but the husbands have been around since high school and were smart enough to just sit back and enjoy the ride.  It was like we were teenagers all over again.  We talked about the crazy days of our youth, the crazier days of recent years, and had a great time.  Tequila was pouring, and as the night went on, we all were feeling no pain!  By the time we were headed back home, the girl I was staying with was beyond drunk and began talking about how much she loved her "fucking faggot" husband.  She went on to say that the best thing about being married to someone for so long is that you can call him a "fucking faggot" and him know she was kidding and not get mad.  She must have called him that 50 times during the ride home, before passing out.  I knew that she would remember nothing of it.

The next morning, or should I say afternoon, by the time she rolled out of bed with a serious hangover, her husband and I decided to have a little fun with her.  I started walking around the house, calling her husband a "fucking faggot" intead of his name.  She heard this a couple times before asking me why I kept calling him such a name.  I said, "You don't remember?"  She was clueless and didn't even remember leaving the bar.  Even better for me!  I looked at her husband, winked, and said, "You mean you don't remember flashing your boobs to the bartender for a free drink at last call?"  Her answer was priceless...not a "No I didn't", or "I wouldn't do that"...but instead, she responds by squeezing her eyes shut and slumping her shoulders, saying "Oh, no!  I'm not supposed to do that.  Now I'm going to be in trouble, and am gonna have to give him [her husband] a blow job!" 

Moral of the story...don't buy your woman a pair of new boobs if you don't want everyone to see them!