Move Over Dolly

Small chested girls and boys of all shapes and sizes, today I give you big boobs. You've wanted boobs your entire life and today, I'm giving them to you. Now, after you've spent some time in the mirror playing with them, get ready to experience the real world of having big breasts. Here we go....

Your shoulders will hunch inward, just slightly; a result of trying to make your chest look smaller while you were growing up, embarrassed to have people staring at you.

The seatbelt never stays in place across your chest. It slides up and sometimes goes across your neck if you're not careful. You're terrified that you will one day be decapitated because of your 34 DDs.

The cuter the shirt is, the chances are it won't fit you. If it does fit in the arms and length, the logo on the front will be stretched so tight across your chest, that you look obscene.

The strappy, backless fad? Forget it. Where are you going to be seen with no bra? There's no way. While you're at it, you can pretty much forget one piece swimsuits. They don't make any that hold you in correctly, so you're wearing separates, forever. Better keep trim.

When you're cold, everyone else is going to know. They won't tell you that you're high beaming, but they'll enjoy the free show, anyway.

People will "accidentally" brush into you. They like to do this at bars, in tight hallways, on trains and on buses. They will be all "Excuse me," but will raise or lower their arms so that they brush into your breasts. They may even do the hard shove that presses their chest against yours. They won't thank you for it either.

Your mother will talk more about your chest than your career.

No running. Ever. Invest in three sports bras and wear two at once, But you'll still never run a mile. Use the elliptical trainer, treadmill, or Stairmaster.

The sight of speed bumps on the road may bring tears to your eyes.

Never close a hardcover book, too quickly. You may get a nipple stuck in there. Yes, it happened, and no, I don't want to talk about it.

Babies grab your breasts. They don't know any better. It's only mortifying when someone jokes loudly,"He's looking for lunch!"

Lovers try and name them. Don't let them. Keep your dignity. Maybe one great name like "Fantasia." But not "Bert and Ernie." "Pooh and Tigger." "Lefty and Lopsy." Fuck that shit.

You wear bras all the time. Constantly. Underwires only. No frilly-soft-lacy-pretty things. Industrial strength. Straps and inch wide. You look like a 1950s nurse who's into S&M.

Women will outwardly hate you because of your chest. Even your best friends.

There will be lines you can break, drinks that will be free, things that you can have and tickets you can get out of.

There will also be friendships never had, cute clothes never worn, sports never played, and pictures ripped to shreds in agony.

Your back hurts. Just all the time. A constant state of hurt.

You have a terrible fear of catching a football and it's completely understandable.

New boyfriends won't know what to do with them. They will opt for a mix of lifting and lowering, licking all over the place, hoping to hit a spot you like.

Sometimes you accidentally drop food down there, like popcorn. People think that's hysterical. You don't.

Sometimes you'll lean over the table to get something from the other side, like the salt, and you will end up dipping your breast in someone's ketchup. Yes, you'll be humiliated. No, you probably couldn't have avoided it.

You may catch yourself leaning on a table, resting only your breasts on it. Stop. You look obnoxious. I know you didn't realize it, it just happens sometimes.

Find yourself a period play and act the shit out of it. May I suggest Dangerous Liaisons?

Did I frighten you or just make you want your own pair of big boobs even more? No boys. I'm not talking to you. I know what your answer is. Even gay boys. I know you want a fancy pair for special evenings. I'm talking to the Itty Bitty Titty Committee here. All in favor of keeping your new knockers, say "AYE!."

Hello? Hello?

Yeah. That's what I thought.