December 8, 2011 11 Comments
Under the best of circumstances, clothing for active women with a substantial chest is difficult to find. Flat-chested nymphs who wander the earth with six-pack abs doing yoga and prancing about in tiny sports bras can officially kiss my ass. Those of us who tend more to the DD size range understand the trauma of shopping for sportswear and yes, tiny flat-chested women, we do hate you.
I kayak. Kayaking in certain conditions requires that anyone with a brain wear a lifejacket.
Now let’s talk about Exhibit A, my boobs:
Sweet Jesus on a breadstick. It looks like I have taped a red backpack to my tits. I am not amused.
I won’t drown, but I look like the fucking stay-puft marshallow man in red.