So there you are, going about your perfectly normal way on a perfectly normal day. The atmosphere is allowing a comfortable ratio of sunlight through, plant life is flowering tastefully, and the birds are displaying a competent level of vocal skill. Then suddenly and without warning you become aware that something is very, very wrong.
One of your boobs is misplaced.
This is not an isolated incident I'm describing. It's a legitimate ongoing concern. This can and does happen in a variety of circumstances that in no way lend themselves to the misalignment of boob flesh. Waiting in line. Operating a motor vehicle. Enjoying calm, non-gestural conversation. One moment I'm completely focused on some non-boob related topic or activity, and the next I'm utterly fixated on the relative position of one of my boobs to the bra cup that contains it. Or select parts of it. Or select parts of it and an additional sampling of adjacent flesh.
C'mon, bra. Your job isn't that hard. I pay good money for you, and all you have to do is hold the boob. That's it. That's your whole job. Do you have any idea how many guys a woman can find who would do that for free?
And you, boobs. How much technology do I have to invest in before I convince you to stay where I put you? I'm not a cheerleader, jackhammer operator, or professional jumping jack champion. I'm a writer. I spend the majority of my time in a decidedly sedentary state. Why can't you just go with it and sit still when I do?
Don't worry! You get more than ample attention just by virtue of the fact that you exist. You do not need to start doing tricks to get noticed, I promise. As a matter of fact, if you want to continue to enjoy the attention you do get, you're going to have to settle down.
I'm serious. Don't make me get the duct tape.
12 hours ago