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Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Milk Bar's open for business
Your thin end for today:
Nushie has that big-titties thing happening again. It goes hand in hand with losing her sylph-like figure and assuming the "blobbing sow" disguise she takes on when her belly is all full up with paws. And judging by the size of her with at least 3 weeks left to go, she has a lot of paws in there.
Listening to her teats slapping like a seal clapping when she walks reminded me that Diane made mention in her comment (in one of the most recent posts) of this month being Breast Cancer Awareness month.
And breasts are not something to be taken for granted. Ever. After all, pretty much everyone has at least two to start with, hmmm (and Nushie has 11 of 'em). So, in honour of breasts large and small, saggy and perky, soft and silicon, I bring you
Tribute to the Magnificant Mammary.
Women generally have breasts. All shapes, all sizes, all colours and textures, most women have them, most babies are suckled by them, most men love to be snuggled between them and most women wish theirs looked other than how they actually do. A huge sector of the women's clothing market is geared towards breast control or enhancement. Lingerie is designed to be visually arousing to those of the opposite gender. Puberty makes them grow, cold and sexual arousal make them stand out, breastfeeding from them promotes uterine muscle activity, which is also linked back to arousal as well as simply stopping bubs from screaming. Womens breasts are usually a bit better wired into the overall system than a blokes ones are. Hormones have a hell of a lot to answer for.
Men have breasts, too. Usually not as large, as prominent nor particulary sexually exciting to them, they do still have them. Blokes ones aren't even good for show, really.
Throughout history, mammaries have been made mention of; in music, in monologue, in painting, sculpture and in cultural & societal moralism. There are pictures of them everywhere, some clothed in decorum as well as fine fabric, others lifted high to be portrayed as decently indecent, others given realism, bare skin, warts and all. Perhaps as early as as 800,000 years ago, early Bloke in what is now Israel was carving his rocks (not just banging them together) and turning out Venus figurines. And in every generation since that time, there have been tit-men who also spent their adult lives trying to get back in where they came from.
Now, our modern, techologically rich societies and cultures see the breasts as not just something to feed our babies and cradle our men into, their care has been recognised as an integral part of total Woman Wellness.
Hence Breast Cancer Awareness month.
Every year, breast cancer deprives thousands of people of the comfort of those two big glands lurking centre stage on a woman's chest. It takes without descrimination - mothers, sisters, aunties, daughters and wives. It leaves destruction in it's wake. It's not very nice at all.
Man or woman, celebrate Womanhood by checking the breasts you are closest to today.
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Nushie has that big-titties thing happening again. It goes hand in hand with losing her sylph-like figure and assuming the "blobbing sow" disguise she takes on when her belly is all full up with paws. And judging by the size of her with at least 3 weeks left to go, she has a lot of paws in there.
Listening to her teats slapping like a seal clapping when she walks reminded me that Diane made mention in her comment (in one of the most recent posts) of this month being Breast Cancer Awareness month.
And breasts are not something to be taken for granted. Ever. After all, pretty much everyone has at least two to start with, hmmm (and Nushie has 11 of 'em). So, in honour of breasts large and small, saggy and perky, soft and silicon, I bring you
Tribute to the Magnificant Mammary.
Women generally have breasts. All shapes, all sizes, all colours and textures, most women have them, most babies are suckled by them, most men love to be snuggled between them and most women wish theirs looked other than how they actually do. A huge sector of the women's clothing market is geared towards breast control or enhancement. Lingerie is designed to be visually arousing to those of the opposite gender. Puberty makes them grow, cold and sexual arousal make them stand out, breastfeeding from them promotes uterine muscle activity, which is also linked back to arousal as well as simply stopping bubs from screaming. Womens breasts are usually a bit better wired into the overall system than a blokes ones are. Hormones have a hell of a lot to answer for.
Men have breasts, too. Usually not as large, as prominent nor particulary sexually exciting to them, they do still have them. Blokes ones aren't even good for show, really.
Throughout history, mammaries have been made mention of; in music, in monologue, in painting, sculpture and in cultural & societal moralism. There are pictures of them everywhere, some clothed in decorum as well as fine fabric, others lifted high to be portrayed as decently indecent, others given realism, bare skin, warts and all. Perhaps as early as as 800,000 years ago, early Bloke in what is now Israel was carving his rocks (not just banging them together) and turning out Venus figurines. And in every generation since that time, there have been tit-men who also spent their adult lives trying to get back in where they came from.
Now, our modern, techologically rich societies and cultures see the breasts as not just something to feed our babies and cradle our men into, their care has been recognised as an integral part of total Woman Wellness.
Hence Breast Cancer Awareness month.
Every year, breast cancer deprives thousands of people of the comfort of those two big glands lurking centre stage on a woman's chest. It takes without descrimination - mothers, sisters, aunties, daughters and wives. It leaves destruction in it's wake. It's not very nice at all.
Man or woman, celebrate Womanhood by checking the breasts you are closest to today.
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