Per usual...

I was cutting the lining out of my new bra with a steak knife, and thought, "If I had a blog, I could blog about this. And in the future, I could say things like, 'Well here's one for the blog!' when something unusual happens." So I made a blog. It's going to be way better than my LiveJournal, just you watch.

The liner made my boobs look anime-pointy, and that's not really an ideal look for me. An ideal look would involve a tubelike bra that dragged down my boobs and brought them together in a pendulous 'V' formation, like this:


I drew an "inner view," showing how the nipples would meet in the middle, but nipples are porn.

But while I'm waiting for the folks at Victoria's Secret to seize upon this particular definition of "sexy," I'll settle for anything that doesn't create a poking hazard to me or to anyone else.

I had to buy this bra because my newest bra until today has been falling apart for the past year. An eye came out, then an underwire. A slave to symmetry, I was forced to remove the other underwire, and-- well, suffice it to say, with this as my sexiest bra (and oh, it was), I have been in no need of birth control.

My new bra was purchased at Family Dollar for the price of 2/$7, and yet is of surprisingly poor quality. It is itchy, clearly modeled on a very angular mannequin, and was until half an hour ago padded with styrofoam. I did a fantastic job removing the padding, considering that I live in a scissor-free apartment and have had only limited success with dicing in the past.

Because I am a disgusting human being with little regard for the wellness of her breasts, it should not go without saying that this red lace monstrosity is temporary. It is, however, and at such time as a suitable replacement is found, it will be retired from active duty, except when I put it on my dog to pretend that she's my sexy maid. It should go without saying that this is a daily occurence.