I'm too sexy for my sexy... A story about boobs

These are my boobs, and John Cena is so trying to grab them,
and they are nestled in a Victoria Secret Push Up Bra.

"True Story, just today...

Me: I don't think your wife likes me all that much.

Mechanic: It's your boobs. The last time you were here, she asked me if you were throwing your boobs at me...

Me: I get that a lot

Women. Let me tell you a secret. Boobs are boobs. I can post a million better pair of puppies from free internet porn than I could ever flaunt on my chest. Men don't discriminate when it comes to boobs. All boobs are awesome. If you are worried about my boobs, then you are going to have to worry about the entire female population. If you wanna fear your man hitting on me over something, fear my confidence, my mind, and my good heart, all of which are way bigger than my boobs, and all of which are things you can compete with without having to invest any money into the ordeal. If boobs are the best thing you have to offer, you will never be anything more than a ho."

That was my Facebook status yesterday on my super secret profile. I do hate when people don't give me a chance because of something stupid like my boobs. They are really missing out, especially over something so superficial. 

First off... My boobs are not that awesome. Borderlining a C-cup, they are really B-cups. Most of the time, I don't wear a Victoria Secret Push Up bra, but I do totally suggest it, and in the store, they do have a stash of cheap bras about 20 bucks in range, which is totally competitive with Walmart bra prices but with Victoria Secret's Swag Secret benefits. Back to my boobs, they went from whipped cream to heavy whipping cream in point five after breastfeeding, meaning I can also hold pencils and cigarette lighters underneath them without a bra. One of them falls funny, like they are not symmetrical when it comes to my cleavage, and it's possible one is slightly bigger than the other. I've always thought my nipples were odd, especially in comparison to nude women in 80's movies. Yet, for some reason, these puppies somehow attract a lot of attention. I've had guys walk up to me at the grocery store on days I look like shit just to tell me about my cleavage. I do not believe for one minute my boobs are that awesome. I think what is going on, everything a guy likes about me, they are projecting onto my boobs, or their favorite part of my body as some dudes will say I have an awesome ass when really there is no ass, but I do attract more boob men than ass men probably because I'm a very nurturing person. With that, women assume men look at the boobs or say I'm awesome because of the boobs when really, the boobs are just the messenger.

Second, maybe I'm a lesbian. Did she ever think of that? Maybe I'm married to a man who's way hotter than her husband. Maybe, just maybe, there's so much more to me than what is going on in her world with her man. I don't get it. How does a woman see another woman and the ONLY thing to come to her mind is, "That woman wants to sleep with my man"? How does one get to that point? It's not jealousy. The bitch was beautiful. You look at her and her man, and you think she's way out of his league... he's lucky. You get to know them, and the opposite is true.

Third, my mechanic is a good man. He doesn't over charge or hustle his customers. He tries to find the cheapest available routes for you and gives you options. His body work, on the cars, is an art. He is truly an auto body artist. Even his putty jobs look good. And the best thing about this man, he had his kids at work with him. Yes, he babysat his children while working, and he does this frequently. His toe nails were painted in nail polish, which you know were from his girls. He answered their pretend phone, and he had some unbelievable patience with their neediness while he's trying to work, more patience than I have as a mother with my kids. Even crazier, I don't think they are his kids. I think their biological father may be someone different. Does this all mean I want to sleep with him? No, it means I want to do business with him. I want him to have my money instead of the dickwad down the street who overcharges and treats me like I'm a stupid bitch who doesn't know anything about mechanics. I want to be the customer to the man who isn't staring at my boobs thinking they make me inferior to him or that they are an easy target to hustle. I definitely want a good person who is a good father to take my money and invest it in his family.

The main thing is, I try to let people see the best of me before they get to know the worst of me. And with that, I don't just cuss out or out-bitch the woman who is being a bitch. I try to understand where she's coming from, and I try to boost her ego just so she'll give me a damn chance. More than likely, she never will give me that chance, but she sure as hell won't if I give her a reason not to. I'd feel sorry for her when he leaves her, but I probably won't.

All I'm saying, ladies, please stop looking at other women like we are ho's. You are no different than the men with that shit. It's degrading, and it embarrasses our gender. If you want to worry about a ho, and your man cheating on you with that ho, then worry about the man lacking the substance to pick out a decent woman to cheat on you with, let alone lacking the substance to stay true. If you are worried about a woman tricking your husband into cheating, because yes, there are some real shady bitches out there, then you are going to have to pick and choose your battles wisely or you will be nothing more than the ho in the end.