At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Sunday, September 25, 2011


This blogger is a prude. That may come as a bit of a surprise, given what you've read here in the past, but it's the truth.
I like the weather we're having now.
But I do not like the clothing.

Warm weather is wonderful, but revealing clothing can be an abomination.
Not, mind you, that I find it all entirely repulsive. But let's face it, most of us are not prime exhibit material.
Big freckled tits I do not want to see.
Even if the lower half of said BFT's is fully covered.
Especially if the only real reason for that coverage is stupendous engineering.
Prop up and push out has NO business in the financial district.
Or, for that matter, anywhere in public.
Please dress nicely.

If not for me, for the children. Do you really want your little nephews and nieces to innocently say to their classmates "my auntie flounces around nekkid like a ho"?
Do you honestly want them to emulate you?
That slutty strut with the heels, the unbecoming jiggling?
You are supposed to be an example, what's all this free spirit nonsense?

I understand that you are proud of your cleavage. As are we. We will always point it out as a victory of engineering science to passing strangers, much like the Golden Gate Bridge and the Hoover Dam.
"Oh geez, would ya look at them bongos!"
But we honestly would far rather not see it. Them. Most of us. Undoubtedly there are SOME people who think that ginormous mounds of bovinity are attractive, but not everyone has that fetish. And this IS San Francisco.
Which means that there are far too many excitable people for you to be radiating huge buckets of cow-like magnetism, because you never know what that will attract.
Point is, the public thoroughfare is not a meat rack.

Really, please show some discrimination about whom you share your abundance with.
There's a time and a place for haphazard advertising; it ain't the street.
I've damn near wrenched my neck from looking away.
Yeah, I like a freak show as much as the next man.
But it's getting far too repetitive.
All those big ones look alike.


There's a difference between an all-you can eat buffet and fine dining.
Portions of really nice food are always smaller.
Bonbons versus Halloween candy.

Why does junk food always come in large servings?
Big as a friggin' bucket does NOT make it better!

And, frankly speaking, we men are jealous.
Most of us look doofus with that much flesh showing.
I promise I won't wear my extra-tight cut-off jeans if you don't.
With good taste and self-control we can both make this world a better place.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


  • At 8:14 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Must. Scrub. Eye. Balls.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

Newer›  ‹Older