I just spent over 5 minutes doing the shimmy while naked and watching my tits bounce from side to side in the mirror.
…I need hobbies.
I'm the book that beat the speed-reader, and I'm the card the dealers won't touch. And it's just not true I'm a man-eater; all the same, we should probably go dutch.
The things you pick up as you go.
Where others see trash Roland Sands sees treasure. He wanted a cafe sporty on the cheap so he set about finding a crashed bike he could build as budget-minded as possible. The build started with the bars…
What a stunning bike.
Well, that’s a really nice bike. Those are also some really nice tits. And I think just about everything in this image is an over-all WIN.
This is my body. I’m proud of it. I eat what I want, within moderation. I cook for myself, but I also have been known to frequent McDonald’s drive-thru. I work out when I can, and use running as a way to blow off steam, but I also think a perfectly nice way to spend a sunny afternoon is reading on the couch. I’m active, but I don’t try to fit into any particular size. I’m the daughter of a Marine sergeant with great legs and a high school track star beach babe with great legs. I have good genes, and I thank my parents for them regularly. I know what my body is capable of, as well as what it’s not. I’m 5-foot-3 on a good day, 127 pounds, and my measurements are 36-25-36. I wear size 6 jeans and am a 36C or 34D. I have curves in the right places. I love them, and I know because of them, I’ll never be a size 4. That’s not a priority to me. What IS is that I’m healthy, I have good body-esteem, and that I’m friends with my body. I love it, so I expect it to love me.
Thus far, it’s working for me.
Post boob-shaking, pre-weigh in.
This is to celebrate(?) the fact that I now weigh 122 pounds after somehow losing 5 without even trying or realizing it in the last week.
Let me reiterate…after losing 5 pounds WITHOUT TRYING while PMSing.
I deserve a fucking medal for having found the weight-loss answer, not realized it, and continuing life like a regular human being who eats at VPB and McDonald’s. Because that’s what I’ve been doing.
This is my body; I’ll show it because I love it. Petite. Small. Fun-sized. Miniature. TINY. I feel like the littlest VS Angel. Also, hey, nice tits. No weight lost there.
I just saw the most distressing thing on Church Street— a woman who had no boobs. Like, none. Not even a hint of titty where there should have been. And before you go telling me about mastectomies, let me assure you, there are women in my family who have had them, and this was not one. This was a woman a few years older than myself who just never grew boobs. No boobs. NONE. But all the more power to her— she was out rocking a thin white tank top that I NEVER could, and she was wearing the DEATH out of it.
I suppose it’s all about using what you’ve got. But I never realized how thankful I was for mine until I gawked at this woman for a solid 10 seconds and than promptly found myself hugging my own chest.
P.S— Also, correct me if I’m wrong, but we seem to be raising an entire sub-cultural generation of heavily inked, heavily made-up, dark-haired make-up artists who aspire to the nouveau pin-up style? I peeked into MAC, and there was just…a SEA of them. I thought it was the mirrors for a second before I realized it, in fact, wasn’t. Do we know MAC’s hiring protocol, because, like American Apparel’s, maybe that should be looked into.
The foliage changed overnight.
I was lucky enough to get home in time to take my first fall walk in the rain, and ended up on top of the mountain right as the storm broke. What amazing clouds and light, and I was right up there in the midst of it all.
Also, on a less cerebral note…I didn’t think my tits were that big.