Poking fun at boobs

The following “funnies” have been around seemingly forever, and done the rounds countless times. They never cease to make me smile. Is it my evilness, wishful thinking, or just my wicked odd-ball sense of humour?


Your Honour - In Mitigation

I actually kept my mammogram appointment. I was met with, "Hi, I'm Belinda!" This perky clipboard carrier smiled from ear to ear, tilted her head to one side and crooned, "All I need you to do is step into this room here, strip to the waist, then slip on this gown. Everything clear?"

I'm thinking, "Belinda ... try decaf. This ain't rocket science."

Belinda skipped away to prepare the chamber of horrors. Call me crazy, but I suspect a man invented this machine. It takes a perfectly healthy cup size of 36-B to a size 38-LONG in less than 60 seconds.

Also, girls aren't made of sugar and spice and everything nice...it's Spandex. We can be stretched, pulled and twisted over a cold 4-inch piece of square glass and still pop back into shape.

With the right side finished, Belinda flipped me (literally) to the left and said, "Hmmmm. Can you stand on your tippy toes and lean in a tad so we can get everything?"

"Fine," I answered. I was freezing, bruised and out of air, so why not use the remaining circulation in my legs and neck and finish me off? My body was in a holding pattern that defied gravity (with my other boob wedged between those two 4" pieces of (square glass) when we heard, then felt, a zap!

Complete darkness and the power went off!

"What?" I yelled.

"Oh, maintenance is working. Bet they hit a snag." Belinda headed for the door.

"Excuse me! You're not leaving me in this vise alone, are you?" I shouted.

Belinda kept going and said, "Oh, you fussy puppy...the door's wide open so you'll have the emergency hall lights. I'll be rightttt backkkk.

Before I could shout, "NOOOO!" she disappeared.

And that's exactly how Bubba and Earl, maintenance men extraordinaire, found me, half-naked and part of me dangling from the Jaws of Life and the other part smashed between glass!

After exchanging polite "Hi, how's it going" type greetings, Bubba (or possibly Earl) asked, to my utter disbelief, if I knew the power was off.
Trying to disguise my hysteria I replied with as much calmness as possible. "Uh, yes...yes I did, thanks."

"You bet, take care," Bubba replied and waved good-bye as though I'd been standing in the line at the grocery store.

Two hours later, Belinda breezes in wearing a sheepish grin and making no attempt to suppress her amusement, she said, "Oh I am soooo sorry!

The power came back on and I totally forgot about you! And silly me, I went to lunch. Are we upset?"

And that, Your Honour, is exactly how her head ended up between the clamps.


The Boob Poem..............

For years and years they told me,
Be careful of your breasts.
Don't ever squeeze or bruise them.
And give them monthly tests.
So I heeded all their warnings,
And protected them by law.
Guarded them very carefully,
And I always wore my bra.
After 30 years of astute care,
My gyno, Dr. Pruitt,
Said I should get a Mammogram.
"O.K," I said, "let's do it."
"Stand up here real close" she said,
(She got my boob in line),
"And tell me when it hurts," she said,
"Ah yes! Right there, that's fine."
She stepped upon a pedal,
I could not believe my eyes!
A plastic plate came slamming down,
My hooter's in a vice!
My skin was stretched and mangled,
From underneath my chin.
My poor boob was being squashed,
To Swedish Pancake thin.
Excruciating pain I felt,
Within it's vise-like grip.
A prisoner in this vicious thing,
My poor defenceless tit!
"Take a deep breath" she said to me,
Who does she think she's kidding?!?
My chest is mashed in her machine,
And woozy I am getting.
"There, that's good," I heard her say,
(The room was slowly swaying.)
"Now, let's have a go at the other one."
Have mercy, I was praying.
It squeezed me from both up and down,
It squeezed me from both sides.
I'll bet SHE'S never had this done,
To HER tender little hide.
Next time that they make me do this,
I will request a blindfold.
I have no wish to see again,
My knockers getting steamrolled.
If I had no problem when I came in,
I surely have one now.
If there had been a cyst in there,
It would have gone "ker-pow!"
This machine was created by a man,
Of this, I have no doubt.
I'd like to stick his balls in there,
And see how THEY come out.