To be totally truthful, I have never had a superb rack.
No one has once marvelled at the large sloping incline of my curves. Neither have I.
There has never been any “motorboating”. No “waterboarding”. No suffocating midgets. No “lovely lady lumps”. No cherry on top. No car washes.
It is actually a wonder I ever got a date. Let alone had sex (with someone who didn’t want to dress in me in latex, chain to a wall and call me Larry)
Rwandan genocide, dead pigs in Chinese rivers, book burning in Hitler’s Reich, my boobs.
One week into my all-vegan diet, I looked in the mirror to discover myself even more flat-chested than before –
With the midriff naval of a starving Ethiopian child.
O despair why doth thou plague me?
I have the legs of Artemis, the chest of Adonis and the belly of bloody Bacchus.
Studies have proven …
that countries with high levels of animal protein consumption have ladies with larger chests. They also have higher levels of obesity, diabetes and heart-disease.
And I had also gone on a full-blown sugar binge – seeing as bee-juice (honey) is off the menu – and forgone any viable source of protein.
Prodigal genius solves problem
Step one: say no to sugar.
Step two: Hunt down soy products (plant protein).
My boobs are still insignificant but I have yet to be called Larry.