Right before I left the country in March, I sat on the ground in JFK Airport and made a phone call.
I'd just learned that a friend was having boob issues. The boobs were suddenly, at the age of 31, growing maniacally. And I'm just going to put it out there that they were NOT SMALL to start with.
"Hi," my friend answered the phone. "Are you excited about Berlin?"
"Yes," I said. "How are your boobs?"
She told me that a) her boobs were each the size of her head, b) she was suddenly afraid of losing balance on her bike and pitching forward, and c) she hated feeling like a boob monster.
Whereas I would like, for just one day, to know what it's like to be a boob monster.
This friend was not pregnant, had to buy new shirts and bras, and her doctor said she should see a breast specialist.
While in Berlin, I got an email from her, a scared freaking out email about how there might be something wrong, besides the fact that it's the size of a watermelon, with one of the boobs. A doctor thought she might have detected something. A lump or growth.
I went to an internet cafe in and called her. The doctor couldn't find anything when she looked again but said she should schedule an MRI and a biopsy. To be on the safe side.
SCARY. Especially since she has been through the process of her own mother kicking breast cancer's ass and because 31 years old feels kinda early to start throwing around words like biopsy.
We love her boobs, even when - ESPECIALLY WHEN - they are ridiculously large. We don't want anything to be wrong with them; We just want to make fun of them from time to time.
This week she got an appointment for the big check up and our mutual friend organized flowers to be sent. We brainstormed on the phone about what the card should say and we wanted to outdo the pussywillow bouquet we sent for the mutual friend's cervical operation last year.
I pushed hard for changing Deee-Lite's "Groove Is In The Heart" lyrics to Boob Is In The Heart but that didn't go over well well. This is what we came up with.
And THIS is what the f'ing amazing florist in San Francisco, Church Street Flowers hooked us up with. We love him. We love our friend and her phenomenal boobs. And most of all we love the fact that her tests came back clear and perfect and healthy. Muah.
More boob than you can handle
Posted by ronckytonk at 10:26 AM
Labels: are you f'in serious?, dirty whoredom
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