Thanks for the mammories
08/29/2003
Strauss Home / Humor Channel / Bullz-Eye Home
This is the best thing that's ever happened to me.
I know I've said that in the past, but this time I mean it.
This really is the best thing that's ever happened to me.
Unless something better happens to me. Then, that'll be better. But I doubt it, because this is pretty good.
What could be so great, you ask?
Brace yourselves:
Well, my wife's friend got breast implants...and how fantastic is this -- I haven't seen them yet!
Is that the most amazing thing you've ever heard or what?
I'm so happy I haven't seen these new boobs, I'm probably happier than her husband who has seen them.
I'm telling you, this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me.
Now I'm sure some of you are confused and bewildered as to why I'm so happy that I haven't seen them. In fact, you're probably wondering why I'm not begging and groveling at the chance to witness her newfound additions.
"Hey honey, I think I'm going to write a story about elective surgery. Do we know anyone who's had elective surgery recently? Anyone? Think, think, think."
Some of you are probably wondering why I'm not doing everything in my power to contrive a lame excuse to visit their home and not look her in the eye.
"Omigod sweetheart, do you know I think I left my wallet over their house two weeks ago. I've got to go get it. What? No, I mean my other wallet."
The truth is, with no offense to my wife's friend, I have no interest in seeing her or her new boobs.
In fact, with any luck, I'll never see the three of them ever again.
Please, I beg you, keep those breasts away from me. Far, far away.
I even wrote a poem about my wife's friend's boobs that I haven't seen.
New boobs, no can see!
Yay, yay, yay.
Yay for me!
The thing is, my wife has been at her friend's side through this whole process. My wife watched her children when she had pre-operative consultations. My wife was there when she woke up from her surgery. My wife even helped her pick out the right size boobs.
Which frankly, doesn't seem like it would be that difficult.
How hard is it to say, "Big"?
Yes, my wife has been a great friend to her friend throughout her entire surgical procedure.
And now that it's over, my wife continues to be involved with her friend's new breasts. And her involvement consists of discussing her friend's new breasts. With me.
You see, since I haven't seen the new breasts, my wife feels the need to constantly talk about them with me. She wants to discuss, analyze and describe them down to every last detail. And naturally, since expandable boobs are such a visual concept, my wife doesn't just talk about her friend's new boobs. Like any good teacher, she uses visual aids to accentuate her story.
In this case, the visual aids are other women's boobs.
Do you see where this is going?
My wife is not only insisting I look at other women's boobs, she's pointing them out to me, and then she wants to talk about them. In detail.
Have I mentioned that as long as I don't see these new boobs, my wife wants to talk to me about boobs?
Have I mentioned exactly how much I love my wife?
New boobs, no can see!
Yay, yay, yay.
Yay for me!
Forty-two years old and I finally have my get-out-of-jail-free card.
No longer do I need to use my clever and covert methods to find other women's breasts.
ME:
Hey, will you look at the windows on that building over there.
WIFE:
You mean those square windows on the building where that woman with the tight white sweater is standing?
ME:
Huh? What?
No longer do I have to act like I'm not trying to look at other women's boobs even though all I'm trying to do is look at other women's boobs.
WIFE:
What's wrong?
ME:
Um, I've got this weird crink in my neck. Every time I turn to the left, I can feel this strange muscle pull. So I just keep checking to see if it's getting better or getting worse.
WIFE:
She's gone.
ME:
Who's gone?
WIFE:
The 20 year old with the halter-top.
ME:
Huh? What?
And no longer do I have to feel guilty about being with my wife and finding myself on the lookout for other interplanetary globes.
ME:
I love you so much. Give me a hug.
WIFE:
Okay.
ME:
You're so sweet.
WIFE:
Is she still bending over?
ME:
Is who still bending over?
WIFE:
The blonde with the low-cut dress standing behind me.
ME:
Huh? What?
No, no, no. No longer do I have to do any of this.
Now, I get to sit back and have the breasts come to me.
As long as I don't see my wife's friend's new boobs, the explanation continues.
As long as I don't see my wife's friend's new boobs, the comparison rages on.
As long as I don't see my wife's friend's new boobs, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.
The earth. The earth. The earth.
New boobs, no can see!
Yay, yay, yay.
Yay for me!
Didn't I tell you this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me?
Last week I was sitting with my wife at a restaurant and the conversation wasn't about what color she needs to paint the dining room, or how she really needs some new shoes, or who said what about whom.
The topic was boobs. Nothing but boobs. All boobs, all the time.
WIFE:
Did you see the waitress' chest?
ME:
We have a waitress?
WIFE:
Look at her chest when she comes back with the drinks. Look at how round her breasts are and how far they come out.
ME:
What do you mean, "how far they come out?"
WIFE:
I mean how far they extend from her chest. The actual volume of her breasts.
ME:
So you want me to look at the volume of her breasts? Isn't she wearing sort of a blousey-white shirt, though?
WIFE:
Well, when she leans over to give us our drinks, try and look between the buttons on her blouse to see her chest.
ME:
Y'know, I never thought about doing anything like that. But I think I can try.
WAITRESS:
Here are your drinks. I'll be right back to take your order.
WIFE:
Did you see what I mean? When she leaned over the table to set the drinks down, did you see how far her boobs hanged down?
ME:
It was a struggle, but I think I got a pretty good sense of them.
WIFE:
See, her boobs are nice and full. My friend's aren't quite that big, but they basically have the same shape.
ME:
So they're not quite that big, but still, they're big enough?
WIFE:
I mean, our waitress is a taller girl than my friend, so her breasts fit her body.
ME:
So you don't think our waitress' chest is too big?
WIFE:
No, I think they fit her proportionately. Don't you?
ME:
I'm not sure. I'll have to look again when she comes back to take our orders.
WIFE:
I think our waitress has a perfect body for her size, actually.
ME:
Hmm, remind me to look down her blouse again when she brings the food.
WIFE:
It's really interesting how different sized women have uniquely sized body breasts for their bodies, isn't it?
ME:
As a matter of fact, yes it is.
New boobs, no can see!
Yay, yay, yay.
Yay for me!
Boobs. Boobs. Boobs. All my wife wants to do is talk about boobs. Point out boobs. Compare boobs.
And being the loyal and devoted husband that I am, the least I can do is listen to her, show her I care and nurture her thoughts.
Oh, and look.
WIFE:
Hey, do you see that woman over there?
ME:
Which one?
WIFE:
The redhead with the really short skirt, the stilettos and the sheer white blouse with no bra.
ME:
Oh, over there. Her. Yes, yes, yes. Now I think I see her. It's funny, I was looking over there and I just saw that poor old man trying to feed the pigeons. But now I see her. Wait, hold on, oh yes, now I see her breasts as well. Interesting. So do your friend's breasts look like that?
WIFE:
Similar, but hers are still a little flatter than that woman's, only because she just had the surgery. Do you see how hers come to a rounded edge in the middle of her chest?
ME:
Let me see. Oh yes, I think I understand what you're talking about.
WIFE:
Exactly. Well, once her boobs settle, I think they'll take a little bit more of that shape.
ME:
Interesting. Y'know, I'm so glad we're having this chance to talk.
WIFE:
I know. It seems like we've really been talking a lot lately. It's nice.
ME:
I agree. I love you.
WIFE:
I love you, too.
ME:
Hey, what about the girl over there with the tank top? Do your friend's boobs look like that?
WIFE:
I can't see that far away.
ME:
Here, you can use my binoculars.
New boobs, no can see!
Yay, yay, yay.
Yay for me!
People, as long as I can manage to keep myself away from my wife's friend's new breasts, I've hit the motherlode.
The trick, of course, will be staying away.
WIFE:
Hey, before I forget, I've got a babysitter Saturday night.
ME:
Great. What are we doing?
WIFE:
A few couples are going out for dinner.
ME:
Are they coming?
WIFE:
Who's they?
ME:
The new boobs.
WIFE:
Yes.
ME:
I can't go.
WIFE:
Why not?
ME:
I've got a doctor's appointment.
WIFE:
On a Saturday night?
ME:
He's a very caring doctor.
WIFE:
What's wrong with you?
ME:
I didn't want to scare you. But I've got ventriculitis.
WIFE:
There's no such thing as ventriculitis.
ME:
I mean, I can't go because I've got to work on our tax returns.
WIFE:
It's September.
ME:
I like to be prepared.
As long as I can hold out, the possibilities are endless.
Because as long as there are women, there are boobs. And as long as my wife sees them, she needs to talk about them.
Have I mentioned how much I love my wife?
Actually, I can't even believe I'm saying this, but we've had so many boob-related discussions over the past few weeks, they're almost getting tiresome.
I'm actually thinking about taking the breast-a-thon to the next level.
ME:
Hi honey. I'm home.
WIFE:
Perfect. Dinner's ready.
ME:
Great, I'm starving.
WIFE:
Um, dear?
ME:
Yes?
WIFE:
Who's she?
ME:
Oh, I'm so sorry. Excuse my manners. Honey, this is Phalicia. She's a dancer. She put on such a nice show for us after work today.
WIFE:
I bet.
ME:
Did you know Phalicia used to be a gymnast? The things she can do on a brass pole. Man oh man. Very interesting. Anyway, while we were talking, I couldn't help but notice her breasts.
WIFE:
Well, tassles can only cover so much.
ME:
Right. So I was telling Phalicia about your friend and I said to her, "I bet your breasts are about the same size as my wife's friend's new breasts. I'd sure like for my wife to see them." And she said, "For 50 bucks, I'll let her see whatever she wants." And then I said, "Fifty? Whatta deal!" And,well, here we are.
WIFE:
Yes, here we are.
ME:
So do they look like your friend's?
WIFE:
I think we need to talk. In private.
PHALICIA:
I'll wait here.
WIFE:
Thanks. And please stay off the lightpost in the front yard, if you don't mind.
Then again, maybe I shouldn't press my luck.
New boobs, no can see!
Yay, yay, yay.
Yay for me!
In closing, pray for me, friends.
Pray on my behalf that I'll never see this woman again. And if I do, pray it's the dead of winter and she's got 10 layers of clothes on. And a winter jacket.
Because the longer I can avoid her, the longer I get to enjoy life like I never have before. Two boobs at a time.
WIFE:
Y'know, I think you're enjoying this too much.
ME:
This what?
WIFE:
All this talk and discussion about breasts.
ME:
That's so not true. I just find it enlightening that someone would choose to make such a drastic effort to alter their looks. You'd never need to do anything like that, though. You're perfect.
WIFE:
Really?
ME:
Really. Now give me a hug.
WIFE:
I love you.
ME:
I love you, too.
WIFE:
Is she still out there?
ME:
Is who still out where?
WIFE:
The next-door neighbor's daughter who hasn't gone back to college yet. The one all oiled up lying in the sun.
ME:
Huh? What?
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