TO KEEP A BREAST
Women have it easy. In the body pump class, when doing the chest exercises, the instructor tells us to keep it at the bra line...... well, easy if you do have a bra line. what about us testosterone filled macho men???
anyway, i was rudely reminded of a little incident, which i had clean forgotten, and by who of all people? an ex pastor. apparently, there was a time, where the folds of my flesh were so abundant....i dropped a pen, accidentally, down the front of my chest ....(hmm, this is getting a bit graphic), and thought i lost it, only to find it popped out later, through them generous folds of flesh, when i was changing. get my drift? why did i even share this with people is beyond me.
there's a truckload of people leaving for holidays tonight. and to all the ends of the earth as well. london, sydney, korea....young people these days are so mobile. in our time, an overseas trip is like a long voyage, that one plans years ahead, with columbian precision. we scrimp, and we save, and we sell our souls for that coveted plane ticket, and relatives, often weeping, will see us off at the airport, and wave to us from the observation deck as we climb the stairs to the planes. yes, those were the good old days, when the smell of aeroplane fuel assails the senses and gives you that pre flying high.
anyway, i was rudely reminded of a little incident, which i had clean forgotten, and by who of all people? an ex pastor. apparently, there was a time, where the folds of my flesh were so abundant....i dropped a pen, accidentally, down the front of my chest ....(hmm, this is getting a bit graphic), and thought i lost it, only to find it popped out later, through them generous folds of flesh, when i was changing. get my drift? why did i even share this with people is beyond me.
there's a truckload of people leaving for holidays tonight. and to all the ends of the earth as well. london, sydney, korea....young people these days are so mobile. in our time, an overseas trip is like a long voyage, that one plans years ahead, with columbian precision. we scrimp, and we save, and we sell our souls for that coveted plane ticket, and relatives, often weeping, will see us off at the airport, and wave to us from the observation deck as we climb the stairs to the planes. yes, those were the good old days, when the smell of aeroplane fuel assails the senses and gives you that pre flying high.
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