Breasts are not desirable for men to own. I've known this for as long as I have been able to comprehend that I got an erection everytime an attractive woman ran down the beach, got caught in a brisk rain, or just walked into the room. (I've yet to have an insufficient amount of flustered sexual tension. I suppose all the animal sacrifice I did as a child really did pay off.) Although, no content hetero man aspires to have a cup size, thirty cheese-coneys later, one realizes it is an inevitable consequence.
I am overweight. If I was to observe to the BMI scale I would have to consider myself 'morbidly' obese. Morbidly Obese, like the word obese isn't bad enough. I can't help but thinking about melted cheese driping down the cracks of double chins, like a loogie on a chain linked fence and a tongue like the whipping tail of the bacterial flagellum spinning several species of meat into a gullet sufficiently lubricated with Hidden Valley's finest. That is morbid.
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