Goobs to the Rescue. Or Not.

Dear Internet,

I'm going to come right out and say it. One of my boobs is bigger than the other. Everyone has this defect. At least that's what the internet and my doctor told me. But at this point in life, it's starting to annoy me.

For one, what the hell is wrong with humanity that one boob needs to be bigger than the other. I understand hands. I even understand feet. Incredibly, I even understand one leg being longer than the other. But boobs? Why?

Why am I so irritated by this? Well, you know I'll tell you. I went to a Divinity School Happy Hour / Cocktail Party with Mike. And because I was nervous, I, as usual, grappled with my breasts to find the right thing to say.

For those of you who don't understand this, boobs are a huge source of comfort. Big or small, dilapidated or burgeoning, they represent something altogether calming, even to the point of forgetting where one is. I think most of you can understand, actually.

In any event, as I sat dining on yet another mediocre hot dog, I sat, holding one breast only to find that is was bigger than the other. Now, granted, I knew this already. But every time I find it more annoying when I "re-discover" this fact.

Can't think of anything to do? Well, grab a goob (I didn't misspell that) and your love will continue to be fleeting. Especially when you realize, again, that one boob is bigger than the other.

It's an incredibly annoying thing for me. Especially because I have equilibrium / symmetry hang ups.

Even this pair of muppet boobs is uneven:



Please notice how the muppet's left boob (our right, for those tarts) is bigger, and the beads in her string top gravitationally swing to stage right? It's true for even non-humans.

And now, my day is totally ruined because King Solomon, lord of the giant swirly cats, just took a huge poop that ruined my thought process.

Shelly.