HYPNO BOOBS

When I returned yesterday evening, my apartment mate was at her computer, and the television was on. She had the Real Housewives of somewhere ghastly on as background noise. This of course pleased me, as it was dark and wet outside, and when she does not come home until late I worry about her. It's a totally sexist and racist thing. She's a Chinese woman of slight build, who in my mind looks vulnerable and innocent. Even though she's had several years of martial arts practice and can put your eye out.

The Real Housewives of Bunfudge are all white and do not look vulnerable. They look and act mean and vicious, and the only way they could put out an eye is if they accidentally smacked it with their huge bosoms, each of which has had enlargement. Because breasts do not normally come that big.

Breast augmentation is a frightfully white thing. Filipinas also have it done, but that's largely to imitate Caucasian women, or to snag a rich guy. And some mainland Chinese women undergo it because they have been influenced by Western ideals of beauty, just like the eye thing. There are a few others, with weird self-images. Mainly, hypno boobs are for psychos.

Normal people don't do it. Because it is very silly.


Every one of the Real Housewives has had it done.


Hypno-boobettes end up married to frat boys or lawyers. Or Arabs, Russians, and Donald Trump. Or rich old skeevy dudes.


Quite a few of them live in Marin County.


Prove me wrong.


There. Now that I've got the offensive generalizations out of the way, I beg to inform you that the three charmingest females yesterday did not impress me with their breasts. One brought me a plate of double mushroom chicken over rice (雙菇雞飯 'seung gu gai faan'), one of them was maybe about four or five years old and cute as the dickens, avidly drinking in everything the bus driver did, with curious intelligent eyes, and the third was probably married and over thirty years of age, with kissy cheeks and an expression that showed character, who kept looking at the briar smoking equipment in my hand while I was on the bus.

It's the faces.


There were also the two people crossing Waverly while I was smoking my pipe; an aged bent lady being helped by her daughter. They both seemed happy with each other's presence. That, too is charming.





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