The Ongoing debate of Tiddies versus Butts. Are you a breastman or an assman? Americans are into breasts, the French into legs, Brazilians into butts. Rednecks are into milkers, intellectuals into gluteus maximus. The rump resists gravity more gracefully through time and can be shaped by exercise, while breasts blend into muscles and the muscles under breasts can feel out of place.
It’s not really about the parts themselves, it’s the hip to waist ratio, the arch of the back, the arms to breasts ratio. Is your backside Kim K or Minogue brand? Is it wide and commanding or round like an apple? Smalls breasts are chic while large breasts fall into armpits when you sleep. Variety of breast size is nonsensical evolution wise. Very small breasts can be a problem feeding wise. Hip shape signals ability to give birth. A luscious posterior means more nutrition for the fetus.
It’s legal to be topless in New York. It was considered normal to sunbathe topless on a regular beach in the Greek Islands in late 80’s and early 90’s. Being topless and writing on breasts can be a political act. Intentional mooning is considered offensive. Breasts and buttocks can be used as paint brushes on canvas to create visual art. The heart beats under the breasts, the root chakra lies near the buttocks. Breasts big enough resemble an ass, a bony ass can go dead on an aiplane. Breasts can grow asymmetrically, sometimes remaining asymmetrical. Sometimes extra calories go straight to your ass. Your genes and nutrition affect the firmness and shape of your tiddies and butt.
You can surgically extract fat from the waist and insert it in the hypodermis of the buttocks. You can alter the size and shape of breasts to suit a person’s preference. Large breasts can give you back pain. Big ass can make finding fitting jeans harder. Hypocrites (1915) was the first Hollywood film to portray full female nudity. The Hays Code in the 1930’s ended on-screen nudity for decades. Promises! Promises! (1963) brought nudity back on screen in shape of Jayne Mansfield. In 2024 OnlyFans reported 378 million registered fan accounts. Only 17% of users chat with creators. Hey. My eyes are up here. I’m a person, not a sum of my attributes.
I was catching butterflies at a furniture store when a car pulled up. A girl stepped out and took a squat piss right on the tarmac. I can still see her pale white ass glowing like a beacon in the night. I was riding my bicycle home from school while the girl next door was riding in front of me. We came to the final uphill part. She tilted her body to put more weight on the pedals. I observed her bluejean covered ass sway on the saddle thinking its shape and size from the current angle was enjoyable. My dad told me that when he was walking our dog on their street her mom had run in her night gown to scratch the dog. While she leaned over her breasts fell out from her gown.
I was on a Greek island in a beach chair by the water. A blond topless Danish woman waded around the clear salty water as the smell of toasted skin and sunscreen filled the air. Her disproportionately large breasts caught everyone’s attention and she liked it. I kept staring at her tits for two straight weeks in my sweaty beach chair. On a Bible Camp the girls were walking on a dock steamy after sauna towards the lake. I observed them through birch tree branches from a distance. My classmate’s big sister who was a group leader took a few running steps to catch up with others. Her breasts bounced joyfully barely contained by the elasticity of her bikini top. The sight got engraved in my mind and I used to replay it often. At a cottage party boys and girls went to sauna separately. My girlfriend said she had the best breasts of all the girls there. Just earlier her friend had come out to the terrace of the sauna topless and seen me looking at her direction. She made sure I got a good look at her. I thought it was a pretty even contest between them breast wise.
At a club with some art school people I was busting moves on the dance floor. A girl walked over to me smiling and joined the dance. After dancing we talked a while and decided to leave the club together. I wasn’t profoundly impressed by her but when I followed her up the stairs I got a good look at her ass and thought Ok I can work with this. At my place we started to fool around, got naked, and she layed on her stomach on my bed. She looked at me over her shoulder knowingly, her eyes asking if I liked what I saw. I thought sure I can be converted to an assman, there’s a lot to work with here. On another occasion she stood naked sideways in front of the mirror pulling her stomach in saying how strange she looked. She had practically no breasts and was skinny like a twig except for her big round voluptuous behind. It was like someone had combined parts of two completely different bodies. She told me someone had written the word succulent in her high school yearbook.
you are in the air. bouncing trampoline. can you reach the sky? or is it just a dream? there are shiny things. prettier than life. whisper them to me. i will try to find.
pixie, do you believe me? you cannot fight true love. remember you were seventeen. at home at the store front. hot topic store front.
what compares to you? i don’t have a clue. does unpolished jewel. need to reproduce? like a lullaby. you can make me cry. i think i’ll survive. with you on my mind.
pixie, do you believe me? you cannot fight true love. remember you were seventeen. at home at the store front. hot topic store front.
She told me both of her kids were pill babies. Meaning contraception had failed resulting in unplanned pregnancies. She said her daughter was a loser because she lived with her and couldn’t hold a job. Her daughter scared my bandmates in a bar once. She didn’t go specific about her son but the tone she mentioned him with resonated with disappointment. Her mom had been a cop working in pretty rough neighborhoods. At one point she had worked for fifteen years as the person who is hired to start a record store and keep it barely going until a sucker is found to work as the entrepreneur always going bankrupt. She launched a lot of those stores in different towns for the same company. That’s why she had a lot of albums. She had retired from being a dancer because of her leg. She had traveled with a fairly known rock and roll band as a dancer and a roadie, living with the fairly respected drummer who was an alcoholic and not the good kind.
Whenever I talked about an American artist or celebrity she said she knew him and he was an asshole. A colossal wrestler had cornered her friend in a bar, Jeff Tweedy of Wilco had been rude to her at venue when she tried to greet him, Jonathan Richman was heckled by an audience member and she said that was when the Boston Boy came out. Even her cats were assholes, each in their own way. Dave Grohl had made it because he had survived. I talked about Dan Zanes of Del Fuegos and she said he’s a billionaire. I looked him up online and it didn’t seem that way. I asked her if she had done cocaine back in the days and she said that was all they did back then. I nicknamed her Confetti because her stories were so fragmented and random.
At a pizza place with my band the guys made fun of me going out with an older woman. Imagine her taking her dentures off before you know what. I said that since pop music biz is so obsessed with youth it’s actually kind of punk rock to date older women. I liked to hang out at her place because she had a backyard. She was always working on some part-time work assigment on her laptop. She thought my stories were silly like I thought hers were too. Her bed was high because she had stacked a mattress on top of another. We had to climb on it. I think I turned her on more than she did me. The oxytocin my brain released during our closeness was a lifesaver though. The same hormone that is a constituent in mother’s milk. Her breasts didn’t really show signs of aging. Their size filled all the palm of my hand and her skin was soft. They were firm and round, two insistent proofs of lifeforce. I was naked lying on my back, she was naked on her side next to me. I had my hand full of her mature womanly softness, she had hers full of my youthful manly readiness. I said this is nice. It is, she said.
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