watching expired appliances align

fine. i'll write about breasts.

I've had a cold. Or the flu. Word on the street is that I have an obsession with breasts. Those thoughts are not related. I have no twisted fetish that involves sneezing into a woman's heaving chest.

So I'm still single. And I'm willing to admit that I wouldn't mind being in the not single category. Or even the dating category. And those things don't mean that I'd necessarily get to touch breasts, but I think I'd be closer to being able to do so. I'm not obsessed with breasts. I don't walk around the streets of New York thinking "check out her rack." That's just not the way I think.

The one time I really let myself go and stared at a woman on a street corner was a few years ago. Did I already tell this story? It was a rainy afternoon and I saw an amazing looking woman waiting to hail a cab. Somehow I convinced myself that it was okay to stare as I approached her (and that corner). I was going to take a left when I got to that corner. I was about thirty feet from her and I let my draw drop, trying to do my best "I'm a guy and I think you're HOT" look. Again, I have no idea why I let myself do this. About ten feet from her, I still had that goofy look on my face. Of course, she turned around. My neurons fired. My expression changed instantly. I hid my eyes and took the turn as quickly as I could. I'd been staring at Heather Graham. Does she have nice breasts?