They're real. And they're spectacular.

There's a reason this was the signature mktg pose

I was given a gift at lunch today and that was the gift of blog.

I have no issue talking about my boobs since it’s a topic that is brought to my attention on a daily basis. It doesn’t so much bother me as it does baffle me. They’re just boobs. But it is a favorite conversation topic with basically everyone I know.

When I worked at the PI, everyone in the mktg loved to comment on the status of the ladies on a weekly basis. Whatever. Fine. I was blessed with awesome genetics and the body of a curvy woman (and so far, I have received no complaints) so I take most of the awe over my tits as complimentary, really. I do know what Christina Hendricks feels like, though I also know that I pale in comparison to that woman’s hotness.

I may mention them a lot or blog about them a lot but it is nothing compared to what I hear all the time. People are going to bring them up to me, I might as well bring them up myself.

Okay, so I went to Lenny’s (my favorite sub shop in the whole all time ever) in Southaven. It’s the closest one, I think, and I had to go the yarn store anyway…

I walk in and there is a table of five assholes in suits. They are all staring. I am a compulsive starer and I rarely know that I am doing it. This could easily be the case with this table, I think nothing of it. And whatever, it’s lunchtime, I am sure they worked where all the assholes in suits go to work. And for Lenny’s at lunchtime it was very quiet with almost no one else in there which is rare. And as most of you know, most Lenny’s aren’t that large. I walk in, order my Veggie sub with everything on wheat, and I wait for my delicious sandwich.

While I am standing there waiting for the ALWAYS nice sandwich makers to make my sandwich I hear whispering the of word “titties” (you all know how much I LOATHE this word) half a dozen times. Again, thought nothing of it. Men talk about boobs. Ask any girl with big ones and she will confirm.

My sandwich if ready so I take it and begin walk out when I hear, “Watch, they jiggle when she walks…”

Okay, what??? And might I add, really? A table of grown men on their lunch break from their grown jobs are watching and providing color commentary on mammary glands of a random chick? Seriously?

And why is this not the first time this has happened to me?! Anyone remember Cunt Nugget?  Why do complete strangers feel the need to comment on my boobs? Can anyone explain this to me?

And I could understand if they were on display but I am wearing a long sleeved t-shirt for fucksake. I am more than likely known around the office as the “Girl Who Does Not Care What She Looks Like” it takes me ten minutes to get ready every morning and I am out the door. I am wearing a t-shirt and cords. Not sexy. No cleavage. Are men that sad that they take an average looking girl in below average clothing and wait for her to walk across a sub shop so they can see her boobies jiggle? This makes me sad for the male species. But not so sad that I didn’t speak up.

Most women might be embarrassed by what happened and walk away vowing to only wear bulky turtlenecks and hide the girls in shame. I am not that woman.

I stopped, turned on my hell and loudly whispered, “I can hear you, dumbass! Classy!” and gave the entire table a thumbs up and the most sarcastic smile I could muster. Needless to say they weren’t as chatty as Cunt Nugget and they sat there in silence until I left.

Again, I have no issue with anyone talking about boobs or even my boobs. They are prominent, talk away. However, make sure I can’t hear you! It’s annoying and insanely disrespectful and immature as all I don’t know what.

It’s like all men are perpetually fourteen years old and snickering at their mom’s Victoria’s Secret catalog. But I have faith that a 14-year-old would have more sense than say something aloud. Idiots.