Nothing is more embarrassing than broads pretending they’re showing their boobs for a cause. So, Monday we’ll have one massive show of mammaries in protest to some kook’s theory that boobies cause earthquakes. (click here) Who are these chicks foolin’? What’s the reason we’ll have our stuff hanging out on Tuesday? Puh-leaze! We show our boobs every day! Monday is just the day we’ll feel good about it.
Ladies, let’s rap a taste, shall we? Cuz I have some concerns with our strategy here.
First of all, the currency of boobie shots has declined dramatically these days and we have only ourselves to blame. At this point, they’re worth about as much as a Betamax. Remember back in the day when boobs were a big deal? They were the calling cards of the “giver of life” status. They had a noble purpose back then. Well, thanks to silicone and some weird contest to find the point at which human skin reaches it’s tension limit and eventually just explodes, tits are far less noble than they used to be. Kinda flushes all that mother of all life stuff down the crapper, doesn’t it? I mean when the greatest contribution of ceramic engineering is swinging from a pole in a smokey bar while fat, sweaty guys in tight track suits and gold chains gyrate and ogle while pulling on fat cigars…ok, I’m starting to scare myself.
Secondly, let’s open our minds – the Imam might have a point in his weird way. So ok, maybe our tetas are not causing earthquakes? But honestly, they’ve likely caused multiple car wrecks, broken homes and stolen childhoods along the way. You never know. After all, they certainly ruined half time entertainment for an entire generation of football fans. The premise remains the same. So, I kinda agree with him…something must be done. Cuz I, for one, have no intention of sitting through another performance of the aptly named The Who. Or should I say “The Who?” And who’s to say that he’s not explicitly right in the first damn place? The truth is, we’d have more than just a little egg on our face if everyone showed their hooters on Monday, April 26 – the exact day that California falls into the Pacific Ocean. How do you say “I told you so, bitches!” in Arabic?
Finally, let’s call a spade a spade. Why even validate this wack job when clearly all we wanna do is show your tits. (Notice how I didn’t say OUR tits. My boobs will be neatly tucked away in my twinset.) For all we know, this guy just wanted to see some mammaries and arguably came up with what’s turning out to be a pretty darn good strategy for making that happen. So, why buy into it? Why make it a big cause, ladies. Let’s just take ’em out, put ’em on the glass and shout “Look at me! Look at me!” while we shake and shimmy and, of course, shake our maracas. No need to pretend that there’s some social consciousness behind it. Earth Day, it ain’t.
That said, I do have one small favor to ask. I’d like each woman participating Mo’ Butta Monday to look in the mirror and do an honest assessment of her boobage before making the final call to go for it all. We’ve gotta set some content and form thresholds for participation. Otherwise, you may find an entirely different kind of protest on your hands.