|A special thanks to my wife (|
[insert Happy Days studio-audience style Awwww...]
But while they might be loved, this year's monument is well, erected, for something I have always loved and will always love.
Wow. You're still here? Well, then. Let's proceed.
While it would have been easy/totall f--king impossible to simply go with the four sweetest racks in movie history, I have decided my monument is truly a monument for everyone. Man, woman and even beast, can all get out of a rusty Winnebago and take a deep breath at the sexy glory that is The Mt. Rushmore of Boobs. Not only are the four cemented figures legends in their own right, but each is representative of an entire genre of jugs, a treasure trove of ta-tas, a menagerie of melons, if you will.
Now, please, watch your step. And also where you point that thing, goodness.
|Three hands? I wish I had two faces.|
|Uh, for you to take your top off. Patiently.|
|No argument here.|
|They're called boobs, Ed.|
Thank you so much for reading, and an even bigger, sweatier thanks to all those great blogs/writers who participated! I hope we're still friends, ladies (I'm going to assume Dell and I are still cool). Be sure to come back tomorrow, to see what intelligent people wrote. We've got some really great entries, like the aforementioned boobs, to celebrate. - m.brown