Sunday, June 19, 2011

After Taking a Prolonged leave of Absence, Our Hero Returns to Write About Boobs. (Of Course)

Hey! My tits are down there!

Everyone gets all crazy for Father's Day, and they start foaming at the keyboard and patting themselves on the back for how incredibly witty they are to notice that the gifts you get from your kids are atrocious or how hysterical it is that they served you a wet sock and a pile of cat crap for your breakfast in bed or whatever. I'm done with it. Father's Day is a fine day to celebrate the fact that you didn't use birth control that one time in college and NOW look where you are. I had an orgasm inside a lady's vagina. Quick, someone get me a cake.

Instead of all that boring Father's Day rhetoric, I think I'll talk about boobies. Because boobies are really awesome and they are what the Internet demands most according to top scientists I just made up, and because it's Father's Day so all the women who would normally feel compelled to talk about the terrible state of the ruling Penilocracy or whatever have to just shut the eff up and let us feel your cans. This is what Father's Day means to me. Being able to cop a feel without retribution from the woman that I love. Check. Mate.

Now I'll give you that it IS a little weird to mix the words "Father" and "boobs" because it sorta implies that I might be feeling up my daughter if you are a complete freakshow pervert, but I'm sure that no one reading this is one of those, and also if you are one of those and you are a lady maybe you should come over and we can discuss your feelings on Father's Day. Maybe you could wear something not TOO slutty revealing but with easy access so that we can keep up the illusion that it's all about talking about your sensitive feelings and not about me wrapping my hands around your cans. Win/win.
Before you get all crazy and be all, "But KURT, you incredibly handsome and virile man who I want to feel me up, how can you say any of this in good conscience knowing that somewhere out there are thousands of men who wear rubbers and don't have kids, so this is totally an unfair, although well-deserved advantage, as far as the unspoken contest between all men where whoever feels the most boobs wins?"
To this I say "What contest?" and also "Eff them!" and also also "Nice rack." because being a gentleman means always complimenting a sophisticated lady on her boobs even if they are weird-looking and have nipples that look like Marty Feldman's eyes. Like your Mom always says "If you can't say something nice, just put it in my ass and shut up."

Words to live by.