My company's purchasing department hired Jim two weeks ago and he’s already been spoken to about inappropriate ogling. Since he’s not a construction worker, the three second rule doesn’t apply. From what I’ve overheard, he blames his wandering eye on the fact that it’s a lazy eye.
I find it hard to believe that a lazy eye would consistently be lazy in the same direction. From what I’ve seen of lazy eyes, they tend to shoot around or veer outward. Not breastward.
Junior has developed a sudden fascination with breasts. In the morning, when he sees me getting dressed for work he yells, “Are those your bellies? Can I TOUCH them, Mommy? Please? Can I SEE them?” Chuck has taken to correcting him. “Those are boobs, son.”
This all goes down while they’re lying in bed watching Curious George. “Are those your boobs? Can I TOUCH them? Can I SEE them? Can I TOUCH them?” (That’s Junior, not Chuck—most days anyway.) I feel like a lactating bush woman on the National Geographic channel.
According to the Journal for Sex Research, the average breast size in the U.S. is 35.9 inches, roughly equivalent to a 34B bra, which is the average bra size in America. The average bra size in Mulletville is 42QQ. It's all the Aqua Net in the water.
If a woman with breast implants dies, is she buried with her implants in place?
How to tell if you're an ogler really should be a college course. I nominate myself to teach it. First lesson, "Tactical moves = powerful clues":
#1: The Thinker (as in, I'm pretending to hold my chin in pensive thought but really I'd like you to stop staring at my rack)
#2: The Prayer (as in, for the love of God, stop staring at my hooters)
#3: The Book Block (paper, purses or office plants may also be used)
#4: The Barricade (the most obvious yet often most overlooked maneuver)
For more about headlight etiquette, head over to the Un Mom.
