|Dangerspouse Rides Again|
Garage - Track
Nov. 11, 2016 - 4:06 p.m.
The Breast of Times
I guess I finally have to join the throngs saying goodbye to Stepford Tart. I hadn't intended to write about it, for several reasons. For one thing, the act of writing it down finalizes it for me. I know it sounds silly, but if I don't see something set down in print I can kind of kid myself that it hasn't happened. Up until now a niggling voice in the back of my mind has been saying "Nah, it can't be. She'll post that it was all a stupid misunderstanding shortly". For another thing, and perhaps more importantly, I understand she didn't want any elegies.
Well fuck her. She's getting one.
But not a big one. I do have SOME consideration for a person's dying wish. I guess.
First though, what the hell is it with breasts that they hate women so much? They certainly can't be miffed due to lack of attention. Are they mad at underwires? The mammogram vice? All the jokes? I have no idea. But whatever it is, breasts sure are mad at it. And they seem to show their displeasure by taking it out on some of their hosts. Including Steppy, who now joins former D-land Aussie goddess Hissandtell in the "My Breasts Sent Me to Heaven" club.
Goddam, but I wish all those pink ribbon people would hurry with a cure. Marching is nice, and y'all look cute as buttons in your matching breast awareness buttons. Also, kudos for providing a tidy income to the people who keep the pink ribbon machine humming.
But can y'all maybe divert some of those pink profits and 6-figure executive salaries to, I dunno, SCIENTISTS WHO MIGHT ACTUALLY SAVE PEOPLE? (Which reminds me. All of you with "Save the Ta-Ta's/Boobies" bumper stickers: cross out the word "Ta-Ta's/Boobies" and write over it, "Women". Breasts are great, yes, and worth saving, sure. But they have this annoying habit of taking the woman down with them when they decide to metastasize. So let's get our priorities straight. Women, with or without breasts, first. Breasts - and everything else - second.)
Now then, regarding Stepford Tart in particular.
I woulda fucked her.
I can't think of any higher compliment to give a babe, frankly. And I've got a pretty good imagination.
Of course, two things would have prevented that from happening: 1. my wife, and 2. Stepford's fists. Still, if I had been tragically (*cough*) widowed, and she was susceptible to roofies...who knows?
I do know that she was a woman who loved breasts. When her original factory-installed units went bad and had to be replaced, she was gutted. We shot a few emails back and forth, and she was genuinely stunned that clinicians balked at her desire to have her aftermarket units be just as big and firm as the originals. "People love breasts!" she wrote me, "Why the holy hell would they think I'm any different?"
I'll spare you any further reminiscing. I'm sure any of you who knew Steppy already know what I'd reminisce about anyway. So many have written so much by now that anything I could add would just be redundant. I'll just say that she was one of those people you know you'll never meet but fall in love with anyway.
(She rather admired me, too, which proves she was not only brilliant, but a woman of taste and discretion. I know this because I once told her to cut-n-paste the sentence "I rather admire you, Dangerspouse" and email it to me, AND SHE DID! Also, her description of my blog in her profile reads: "providing opportunities for thumbing ones nose at other wives. Excellent." If that's not an expression of love, I don't know what is. Other than, y'know, saying something like "I love you" without being asked to cut-n-paste it in a return email.)
So goodbye Steppy, to you and your traitorous breasts. Thanks for all the wonderful mammaries....
ps. I put up a waaaaaaaaaay over-long food entry on WordPress, if you need to kill an hour. I didn't post it here because it kinda refers to specific WP stuff, and I also think I may have written about the subject here before. Nonetheless, if you're looking to kill an hour and Netflix is down, it's right here.