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“More than I could handle and that's for sure!”
“Anything more than a mouthful is a waste”
“If you have to ask, you'll never know.”
There comes a time in the course of humanity when too much of something is just downright wrong. No, we're not talking about George W. Bush, but breasts - very, very big, possible only through massive doses of nuclear fallout (or at least surgery enhanced). These are humongous breasts.
We are not talking about "boob job" boobs, but breasts so very, very big as to make the lives of their owners downright miserable when it comes to finding an off the rack brassier suspension system. Breasts so very, very big that men would refer to them as jelly boulders? Is that what you want, you sick fuck?
Symbolically, an ample bosom (supple, well-rounded, pert and nubile, crowned with a oh-so-Suck-a-licious slightly pink nipple) sends men the signal that says “God has smiled on me” and “come, lets play.” Although, to be fair, most men will read that signal into almost any situation.
Sometimes, however, fate is a cruel mistress. Instead of the bounty of being boob-a-licous, where there should be breasts, God has instead imbued some with shapeless, formless flaps of skin, adorned with dark, withered nipples - dried darken husks that look as if they could flake off at any moment. Unable to feel womanly or unable to get any man but a homo to look at them as a sexual being, these women dream of breast augmentation to reinvigorate their patheticly dull love life. The dream of becoming the subject of adoration for wolf-whistling construction workers is one that appeals to many women. An ample busom of Biblical proportions is known to have a magnetic attraction for any red-blooded male within eyeshot. Therefore, for these women, a jump from an "A" cup to "B" or "C" cup makes sense.
However in a very, very small minority of cases, researchers have discovered that a few women crave boobs the size of over ripe watermelons - the dreaded "HHH" cup-size, because they would like to break into the adult entertainment industry, save up some money, and then become home economics teachers because the pension pays well.
Why not to
Unless you are a stripper, or a female rabbi, there is no logical reason why a sane person would want to see human flesh stretched to the point of ripping, adorned with nipples the size of hubcaps. Take a look at the image of the woman at the top of this article…does she look like she is in comfort or like someone who is having a good time? If your penis has become erect in looking at the photo, your opinion is void in this matter, so just shut up. You just like a good titty fuck, pervert.
Then there is issue of finding a suspension system for that very, very big rack – they just don’t levitate out there on their own. Don’t believe me? Go stuff two 5-pound bags of sugar in the front of your shirt and see how comfortable that is.
You can’t swim (but if you tried you’d never drown), look down at you shoes (without tipping over) and say good-bye to that career you’ve been planning as a wet-nurse at the county orphanage. In fact say goodbye to your aspirations of being a nun in Africa; and if you tried with all those children starving over there you are sure to be stampeded as they latch onto you looking for a snack.
With breasts that very, very big, the only place that will hire you is Hustler Magazine or a Dairy Queen in Las Vegas. Is that what you mother wanted for you? We think not. And if Vegas sounds good, how are you going to get there? Fly? Then you really are the type of woman who wants to take a walk on the wild side because if you could get past security with those fun bags, remember that they could explode in flight if you decide to recline in your seat at 30,000 feet.
And girls, once you get them you can't unsnap them for the night. They are permanently attached. Sleeping on your stomach means a backache; sleeping on your back means certain death from the crushing weight of them compressing on your heart.
And oh, lets not forget that what goes out, will eventually slide down. By the time you are sixty-five those once very, very big boobs of yours are going to take a beating from your knees every time you take a step.
So other than the adult industry career, there is little else to say for having three-liters of industrial strength liquid silicone injected into each bosom to create the type of monster tits-almighty that have to be registered as lethal weapons.
So there you have it. There is no normal reason for wanting jugs so very, very big that they could pop like pimples at any moment. The idea defies logic. Unless you have really bad self-esteem, and more money than sense, well, then, who could blame you?