giving everyone "the eye" all day long

Welcome Future Minions!

I'm sure you have all heard of people who have feet that are two different sizes. It makes sense. Humans aren't perfectly symmetrical. And there are websites and clubs and places that people can meet others with the same problem and find their opposite and trade shoes. Clever, huh?

Well, my boobs are two different sizes.

No, it's not small and large, it's large and larger. Every day I am faced with the challenge of stuffing that extra half-pound of funbag into the cup. Folks, it's like trying to cram a Big Mac into Calista Flockhart. It's either that or I walk around with an extra dollop of cleavage. It's like I'm giving everyone "the eye" all day long.

Most guys I've talked to do not see this as a problem. Of course, the conversation usually goes something like this:

Me: "Did you notice my left is bigger than my right?"

Him: "... ... ... Huh?"

Or this:

Me: "Did you notice my left is bigger than my right?"

Him: "...motorboat"

Most of my girl friends wish they had this problem. This should be the worst problem I ever have--and yet, it bothers me, enough to think up possible solutions:

Maybe a select-a-size bra, sort of like buying bikini separates. You could buy the individual cups and snap them into a support structure with straps.

Or some sort of stick-on spandex flexible panel to augment the existing structure.

How about some sort of velcroed gusset in the bra--when you need a little extra, you could just open it up. This would come in handy too for Evensies (my name for balanced women) when they are retaining water and the bra just doesn't fit right.

All good possibilities. I'm counting on you, Future Minions. Your Domi-Goddess needs a solution!

This is one time, dear minons, that I don't have the answer.

Welcome Future Minions!

This news story sparked a rant in me that cannot be contained--hence, the double edition.

Parents using surgery and biomedical technology to keep their developmentally disabled child from reaching physical maturity.

Unsettling.

I understand their reasons for doing it. I absolutely understand that they want to be able to continue to provide care for their child and still find a balance between what she needs and will need and the physical toll it will take on them. They want assurance that their child will be taken care of in the best possible way, and they want to do it for as long as they are able.

And yet I am still made uneasy by it.

Where could this lead us in the future?

Maybe parents who wanted a boy will engineer one from their baby girl.

Maybe a boy who takes after his short mother could be subjected to limb-lengthening surgery and growth hormones, so he'll be big and tall like his dad.

Maybe a girl who gets a little too curvy when she hits adolescence will be stripped of the sources of the hormones driving her development.

You always wanted a gymnast in the family? We'll keep that girl petite and small-breasted with long arms and legs.

You always wanted a linebacker son? We'll grow a big one, with shoulders wide as train tracks and an extra-thick skull. We can even shorten the tendons around his joints, for extra strength.

This child is not perfect? If we can't fix her, we'll keep her small and easier to manage, so she'll use less resources.

You wanted a light skinned child?

You wanted a child who looks less ethnic?

You wanted blue eyes?

Maybe we should step back from all the wondrous advances our keen collective intellect has brought forth and allow nature and Darwinism to take its course. Maybe we should choose to focus our efforts on other areas that need attention, like curing cancer and AIDS, and putting a halt to human and animal abuse, and cleaning our environment, and PREVENTING birth defects, not fixing them.

This is one time, dear minions, that I don't have the answer.

But my gut tells me bio-engineering isn't it.

five random thoughts

Welcome Future Minions!

My friend is being all dark and disillusioned with blogging, so to cheer him up, I offer a few gems from my treasure chest.

The Olsen twins--Mary Kate and Ashley. They look kinda like life size bobble heads.

It would be really easy to substitute Black Sabbath's "Iron Man" for "Here Comes the Bride". Same tempo. Hum it to yourself. See?

How hungry was the first guy who ate caviar? Maybe it was a dare.

Riding on a hospital gurney makes me feel like groceries in a cart.

Maybe there used to be jobs available as philosophers. Maybe that's why you can get a degree in philosophy.