***WARNING*** I'm going to be talking about boobs today so if this isn't your cup of tea, I suggest you close this page immediately and surf to something better...if that's your inclination, may I suggest SON OF CHEESE or FIZZLE & POP...anyway, on with the bloggin'!!

I have big boobs. I'm not sure why I was the one in the family to get stuck with them. No one else is encumbered the way I am. While they're okay to get a guy's attention, that seems to be all they remember. I have had men say, "Oh! Heather? The one with the boobs, right?" Ugh! My husband calls me Hootie McBoobs, a name he got from a Simpsons episode.

An old friend thinks that I got them from a bike accident. Allow me to explain. When I was about 9 or 10, Rhonda & I would ride our bikes at the Nazarene church. There was a big hill behind the building that led into a parking lot that was bordered by a big ditch. I was always terrified that I was going to fall into that ditch and be stuck forever. I would become the Ditch Dweller and school children would tell stories about me at slumber parties to scare their friends.

Anyhoo, one day we were riding our bikes down the hill and as I screamed down, I saw the ditch looming before me. I panicked and swung the bike to the left, causing me to fall off at a high rate of speed. I slid across the black top about five feet. Now the problem here is that I was wearing a triangle-shaped halter top and as I skidded across the pavement, it rode up, causing my stomach & my chest to be severely road rashed. Rhonda swears to this day that my boobs are really scar tissue and that's why they're so big.

I got to thinking, though, that if I've had big boobs in all my past lives (the ones where I was a woman, of course.) that it would have helped immensely when I was the topless Egyptian palace dancer. Speaking of, there was an article in the paper yesterday about a woman who is giving erotic dance lessons to anyone interested. I figure I could take them and relearn my first occupation!

Then again, maybe not.

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