The Glorious Happiness of Breast Reduction | Not an Attempt at Comedy

There was a woman in the lives of some of the regulars who was not a romantic interest but a friend and we often would hang out since she liked smoking the ganja, she enjoyed the same music, and she and her husband were loons in a conservative neighborhood so what's not to like.  She was a generally cheerful woman but she was cursed by the most enormous boobs you would ever imagine.

These weren't Hollywood boobs since these ones grew all by themselves but they didn't fucking stop. From her experience we learned why it was a curse since she had to carry them around but they're huge and they weigh a lot so that made her back hurt.  There were all kinds of problems of that nature so she hit a point at which action was needed.


She went into the hospital for breast reduction surgery and within almost no time at all she was pleased as punch for a whole list of reasons.  One of those reasons was a benefit to her sex life and in a woman-to-woman conversation she might have spilled the details but no way those will come in open conversation.  Nevertheless, a benefit of that nature exists of some sort plus many others.


Although I do not have a citation, I do remember being struck by a survey with an unknown sample size ranging in age from quite young to about sixty.  They were asked a question along the lines of whether they like their breasts and the extraordinary thing was none or hardly any of them did.  They were too big or too small, too pointy or too round, or any of a number of things.

We're not going to get into blaming anyone for that since we're really not sure what did it but we see a whole lot of unusual in men running around with pot-bellies poking out from under their shirts while they show no apparent concern for their physical appearance.  That's not a back-handed attempt at blaming men since I see women ripping each other up and putting each other down for appearance quite a bit.

Something cause that and we don't know what it was for sure but it wasn't the cosmetic aspect driving my friend; the boobs were just a huge hassle and she was fed-up.


There's no particular editorial to the story beyond that which you see already in that the surgery, at least in this case, had a highly satisfactory result for her.


It was after visiting with them that ML and I saw a fireball going across the sky and it was an immense spectacle since it was falling apart and shedding bits in different colors as it went.  In part I was thinking maybe I'm just wasted but ML saw it too and she wasn't smoked-up like that.  Later we discovered it was a satellite re-entering the atmosphere so it was cool but it didn't really count as, say, a Perseids fireball might.

Thus far, I have (sob) still not seen a Perseids fireball despite many years of efforts, quite a few of which were thwarted by city light.  Lotho may have one of the best places one can find for watching meteors since he's far enough outside the city that the lights aren't such a problem and nor is smog, etc.  It occurs that Tinkerbell may not have seen that previously so she may have a spectacle awaiting her.  I hope she has better luck spotting fireballs than I did (larfs).


The thing setting off this article was reading more than once of women who go back for breast enlargement one or more times after the original.  Those ones are obviously going off the tracks as they try to get the biggest boobs anyone ever saw before and they don't show much to the Rockhouse other than the collapse of medical ethics in some subset of cosmetic surgeons.  Such women don't need much review in the context of my friend since her situation was not self-inflicted.  Nature did it so she got some help to get it fixed and it worked.