Nice... Boobs

Last Thursday, Kevin on The Office, asked his new love interest on a date. When she accepted, he responded with, “Nice.” And then his eyes roamed down to her chest and he finished with, “boobs.”

And that pretty much sums up my weekend. Really, this weekend was boobalicious. On Saturday night, a bunch of us went to a bar in downtown LA called Bordello for sis-E’s birthday. We had ventured all the way out to downtown to see The Devil’s Playground, a burlesque group that one of sis-E’s friends, H, is close with (and, of course, to celebrate a quarter century of sis-E). So, of course, we had to dress up for the occasion; the theme of the night was fetish. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when H and sis-E whipped out some sassy corsets, I knew I needed to step up my game in order to hang. Luckily, my mom had my back and ran upstairs to lend me a bustier and some sexy heels (yeah, I know. It’s kind of hilarious/gross that my mom has super sexy clothing that she’s willing to lend to her daughter so that I can slut it up at a burlesque show). I paired these with a pencil skirt and a long string of pearls and I was ready to go.

The show was fabulous! Really, it was so well done. The women of the Devil’s Playground are true entertainers. I think I even learned a couple of things. Like how to look uber hot while putting on stockings. Or taking them off. And, of course, in theme with my weekend, the breasts were flowing aplenty. I had no idea pasties came in so many different colors. With so many bells and whistles! The highlight was when the “army fetish” girl attached sparklers to her pasties for a true finale.

I was even complimented on my outfit (which was actually rather modest): “Nice pearls,” he said. When I told my mom, she asked, “Did he mean your necklace?” OMG, mom.

I think the unexpected boobiness of the weekend took place last night at sis-E’s birthday dinner with the fam. For those of you who don’t know my sisters, they both have huge racks. Like HUGE. I’m the less endowed sister and my family never ceases to remind me of this fact. Except for last night. Somehow, by some freak of nature, I was showing too much cleavage (through my tank top, long sleeved shirt, and fleece) and my brother pointed it out to my sister who then made a big deal about it. My family literally laughed about this for five minutes. With Grandma and Grandpa. Rather than being embarrassed, I recognized that this might be the only time in my life that someone complains that my boobs are too big and I decided to bask in the moment. Which made us all laugh more (and probably made Grandma and Grandpa a little uncomfortable).

But really, it was a fitting end to a boob-filled weekend.