the clog

Hey, what happened to the comments, they were funny! or A Return to a more Atavistic lifestyle

Ha ha. Well, funny story...no wait, actually it isn't. It isn't even mildly funny. The thing is, I realized that the comment doohickey-thing didn't actually belong to me. A good friend of mine gave me her codes to implement on my blog. Little did I know that in doing so I had been using her post account...erm...thing. Feh. That meant that I had no control over the little nuances of the post...ie, I couldn't make the comments have witty sayings like "10 midgets stomped..." whenever people actually posted something. Yeah, it was just a little thing but that's the way I am: I like control. Or maybe I just like the power. Unless you count control as power, in which case I like both. Mwahahahahah. Yeah, so if you people didn't read the previous posts and have a good chortle over what sort of intellectual jokes that are passed as asides by the literati that read this blog, you're out of luck (my god, that was a long sentence). Fortunately, you are not missing a lot. In fact, I can summarize most of what was said. Here goes: it mainly consists of Teddy asking questions about the breast sizes of girls I know, his affirmation that he does indeed like breasts, and that he prefers female breasts (as they have less hair). Or something to that effect. There probably was more, but that was the gist of it (read the comments on the last post if you don't believe me...oh, and if you don't understand the language being used, allow me to translate. *Ahem* : "I like breasts. Women's breasts, of course." - Teddy). Highly intellectual stuff, I assure you. That being said, this post marks a return to a more atavistic state of mind...a more primal sort of train of thought if you prefer. That's right, were going to talk about something that I'm sure is close to the hearts of men around the world: boobs (don't tell me you didn't see that coming...I know you did).

Yeah, in keeping with that, I feel that it is important to mention that one of my friends have the most beautiful...erm...globes of delight (?), that I have ever seen (in real life...tv doesn't count). She's a pretty good friend and she's the girlfriend of one of my closer friends in college. But does that stop me from ogling? No! Of course not. How absurd. Am I not a red blooded man? Yes, I feel guilty (she is a friend after all), but I cannot help it. It is as if a bizarre sort of force pulls my eyes towards those enhanced mamary glands (oh, the shame!). And they bounce so pleasantly. In fact, she too deserves a nickname (how could she not?). And so, after much deliberation, she is now known as: The Owl. Because she has a magnificent set of hooters (yes, my wit knows no bounds ^_^). So between the Owl and Red (if you don't remember Red, read the archives. That's what they're for) we have two sides of the spectrum: "Stacked" and "Ironing board". Although to be honest (after checking her out again), Red is not as flat as I made her out to be. She's just not stacked. Oh well. At least she has boobs, which is always good. Unless she were a man. Then it would just be wrong. Speaking of which, I once knew of a man who had boobs. He apparently had hormone therapy. It looked all wrong. But I suppose the adage "to each his own" would come into play here. But I would like to add the corollary: "unless you're a freak...". Anyhoo, I composed a little poem to celebrate my recognition of the great manly pasttime (of boob watching). Here goes:

" How do I like wimmens' boobs? Let me count the ways:
I like the way they jiggle and wiggle,
Enticing and good.
I like the way they look,
Also pretty good.
I like the way that they are soft,
and am glad that I don't have to feel hard lumps of muscular flesh (which really isn't good).
I like giving names like "jingly-janglys", "Yabos", "Goody-Bags", "Mams", "Zoom a zooms", "Borjangos" and "Bouncers" to those feminine organs.
It is good.
Thank you, God. God is mighty and wise and good,
Amen"

Yeah, I bet you didn't know that I was into poetry. Surprised? Did that poem leave you all choked up (very eloquent, I know)? One of my many talents. I'm sort of like an onion in that respect. Or an armadillo. So, to all the wimmen reading this post: thank you for having boobs. To all the men: dibs on that chick I saw at the bus stop last friday....