Rebel with a Bra
May 22nd, 2006Out with friends the other night, I met the most charming girl. Her name is Jody and she is a 34-DD.
Now you may be asking yourself, why, pray tell, does Hänni know the cup size of a girl she just met?
Well, it’s not because I was checking her out or anything … Because I was … And it—I mean they—were awesome.
But yeah, I know Jody is a 34-DD because she told me so.
It was in the context of this story:
“So,” she started, “I’ve got boobs, huge boobs, 34-DD boobs. And I’ve got this boyfriend. We’ll call him James, like James Dean.
James has a sport bike. It’s a Suzuki—like a crotch rocket. Like a rice burner. Like a thing that goes ‘weee weee’ when you rev the engine.
James loves that bike. He loves it so much he has a pre-ride ritual. First he runs his hands over the front where the headlights are, then over the seat, then over the smooth plastic above the rear wheel. Next, slowly, lovingly, he pulls on the gloves he bought specially for riding. And then James puts on a jacket to protect against the wind. When all that’s done, he mounts the bike for its “warm up.”
The “warm up” (which I don’t think is necessary) consists of revving the engine a time or two or twenty. Only when James feels he’s made a sufficient amount of noise, does the ride begin.
Not too long ago James was having a rough day. He decided his Suzuki would chase away the blues. The wind in his face would be just what the doctor ordered.
As usual, James did his routine. Running of hands. Wearing of gloves. Donning of jacket. Revving of engine.
As he drove out of our complex, a sense of serenity overtook him. The engine’s growl combined with the rough and rugged sensation of dirt bouncing beneath tires made James forget all his troubles. Just a boy and his bike, James felt like a million bucks.
James felt like a real bad ass.
James rides on some paths near the boulevard, and not too long after he started, he had to stop. Passersby were honking their horns, and while the first time it happened James figured it was alright—someone was showing their appreciation for his fine-ass ride, by the fourth time, he thought something might be amiss.
And there was.
And it had been waving in the wind while James flew down the pathway.
That something amiss—it was my ginormous bra. And it was attached, by its hooks, to the back of James’s jacket.
Horrified, James undid the bra—which ironically is how it ended up off my body in the first place—and shoved the contraband under his seat.
When he got home, James was upset. I tried to cheer him. I told him that if things like this happened more frequently, maybe there’d be no war. When he questioned my statement, I explained that the undergarment being white and all probably looked like some sort of flag of surrender, some sort of high-flying flag of freedom.
For some reason, James was not impressed by my analogy.
I laughed until I about peed my pants though,” Jody said.
And that’s the story of the boy who went from bad ass to jackass in the snap of a bra strap.
The end.
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The AI Cocktail Countdown ends tonight. Get your votes in so I can get my drink on this Wednesday for the American Idol finale party.
mwahahahanni
May 22nd, 2006
ok… THAT’S funny.
I have two concerns about this girl being your friend, however, Hännipie….
1st… with boobs that big, PLEASE don’t let her hug you too much. you’ll get CRUSHED!
2nd… in all the years of working in Victoria’s Secret, I’ve never heard of a 33 band size. (only even numbers) THEREFORE… she’s either buying bras in wall-mart or from some foreign country. Have you SEEN any foreign films lately?? the boob action is pretty bad. all droopy and dragging and such. We need to keep up the appearances of your social circle, momma. For the love of firends with tight-fitting shirts… let’s keep things perky, okay???
MUAH!
May 22nd, 2006
Cze-Johnson Carrie - Now, you’re comment, THAT’s funny. And maybe I was wrong about the “33″, she could’ve said “34″ now that I think about it. I’m no good at gauging gazongas, mostly because I don’t have any to compare against. But I digress.
May 22nd, 2006
First off - I’d like to say what a fan I am of tig ole bitties. Ever since that first look into a Playboy mag at the age of 12 - I have been totally enamored by them. That being said, I will now move on to the next part of my statement.
How did James Dean not feel the drag those parachutes were creating?!? 34/DD!?! Damn!
4 in the kooch and 240 ft lbs of torque pulling giant fun cups along!
May 22nd, 2006
I am surprised the bike didn’t lift off the ground like a paraglider.
Boobies.
May 22nd, 2006
That was great fun! Good way to start my Monday. Of course now I am pondering if it is possible to be a “33″ — an odd thing
May 22nd, 2006
I wish I had been there to see him flying his Freak Flag. That would have really been a hoot. Just like your blog.
BTW, hope things have settled down a bit.
May 22nd, 2006
hmm, boys are so strange! what is it about muff bubbles that is so appealing?! as a girl i guess i just cant understand, but such as life.
May 22nd, 2006
Jody and James sound pretty darn entertaining indeed. I would probably go out more often if the people I met told such coherent, interesting stories.
May 23rd, 2006
Isn’t the american idol thing on tonight? (Tuesday?) I’m so confuddled.
Just tell me when to start drinkin and i’ll be happy.
May 24th, 2006
I love you hanni. you’re my idol, my entertainment, and have just confirmed that my bra could be used on the drag strip. Especially since becoming pregnant! LOL!
May 24th, 2006
Someone needs to get that dude the “If you can read this, bitch fell off” shirt. (woot - I found it — http://www.choiceshirts.com/item/k/a6450d/)
May 24th, 2006
that’s one of the best tales i’ve read in a while. being someone who last lived in houston, texas, i can envision the riders of those bikes and it brings a smile to my face to think they might be flying the true colors of great bosoms!
May 26th, 2006
ROFLMAO, that is so funny.