Old Memories Don't Go Away by *Young Lupe* - Uploaded by: Young Lupe*2RawENt.* - @iAmYoungLupe

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music from my little brother. who knew that i would tie his shoes and brush his hair and wind up listening to him on the radio one day? I love that kid.

Singing in the Rain

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It's just me singing my little heart out. ::::GASP::::: wouldn't it be cool as shit if Joshua Homme ever laid eyes on this? swoon.

40 DD

I don't know about you but boobs are pretty important to me.
And not just me. Americans all love big, perky, slouchy, jiggly, small, amazing boobs.
In case you're wondering, yes, this is a blog about boobs.

I got my boobs early. I was in the second grade. My mom came into my room with this white stringy thing with two patches on the front and told me to put it on.

"Um. Where? Better yet, how?"

Forget the why part. Every little girl knows there will come a time in her life when she will be handed her first bra. Every little girl has seen her Barbie naked, rubbed her thumbs across the hard, protruding knobs and wished and wished that someday they'll have boobs, too.

I remember being this geeky with Barbies, don't you?

It was weird having this little secret garment in the second grade. And I could tell that I was the only other little girl wearing this special garment because, heh heh, I was the only one with boobs. You never really notice boobs until you can compare them to your own. For a second grader, I had a pretty nice rack.

Pedobear would've approved.

When a little girl grows up, she's bombarded with this knowledge that she's different. She's got these knobby little things on her chest that give her away when the temperature drops outside. Or if she's jogging in her P.E class and all the boys are staring at her and the jiggling notion that's bouncing on her chest.
Click here to see said jiggling breasts. You're welcome.

Sometimes having boobs can be a pain in the ass. When I was in the fifth grade, I couldn't wear those V-neck shirts, lest I gave every one in my class a peek at my polka dotted bra. I remember paying attention to the women on TV and watched how they flaunted their cleavage like a banner of honour. Some boobs were smaller than mine and they still got rave attention because those girls with small breasts could come to school with no bra. I wondered what that felt like, not having to tie down my size 34C first thing in the morning, just letting them hang out without a thought in mind.

Boobs can be used as a weapon. A girl can harness this weapon when she enters high school. I looked like a flaming lesbian my sophomore year, not wanting to flash my cleavage everywhere because I didn't want to be one of those girls. You know, those girls who wears short skirts and see-through blouses and doesn't do any work in her spanish teacher's class except laugh at the teacher's lame jokes and write on his chalk board? (sorry, I was having a flash back.) I kept my chest covered, afraid to harness the power of my boobs.

High school was so un-damn-fair.

 How silly I was. One should never be afraid of the wonders of the female body. I think girls get too caught up in the progress that their bodies are going through and they become too afraid, covering themselves in black clothing, hiding their bodies under huge sweat shirts and baggy jeans.

Like this, without the hog.

 We are girls! We are women! We are special! We should embrace these changes, flaunt these changes, but not abuse these changes. Why, just think of how a boy feels when his balls drop for the first time, and his voice deepens. He thinks he's a man and can do just about anything, confident in his actions, and unapologetic to whatever plight may storm his way. We should adopt this attitude from the boys, and make good of it.

Still waiting for Justin Bieber's balls to drop...

Another thing I'd like to talk about is bras. Sometimes.....oh, Lord, sometimes, I see a woman with an ill-equpped bra walking around Wal Mart and I just want to punch her in the face. Who cares if your boobs sag. The right kind of bra can whip them right into shape! Who cares if one boob is bigger than the other, you're not the only one! Who cares if your boobs are considered mosquito bites, they're so small! There's a push up bra with your name on it!

Any of these look familiar?

Take care of your boobs by getting yourself sized every six months. Your bra size can fluctuate just like your waist line. Get a bra that fits, not just because you admire the colour and design. I love underwire, and I love push up bras because they make my boobs defy gravity, and that's a great thing. If your straps across the shoulders and back are restrictive and cutting off circulation, it's not a good fit, and it's gonna make you uncomfortable in whatever beautiful garment you've got and that, ladies and gentlemen, is a faux pas. You may not want to be a 40DD anymore, you may be a 40FFF, and you know what, it's time you come to terms with that. (Note to self, I really need to just accept the fact that I have huge boobs).

So in closing, I just want to let everyone know that it's okay to love boobs, too. Once you embrace your rack, hell you might even embrace the rest of you, abnormal curves and all.