aldo-vallon - July 8, 2018
If Camille Grammer is what passes for a real housewife nowadays, then I have been setting my standards for who is worthy of getting married to way too low. I mean, the cup size alone of the women that I have been eyeing has been embarrassingly small. Their boobs are nowhere close to the size of my brain, and my brain is impressively small.
I always thought that I should use the national average as a starting point for what is acceptable, but if we are going to use Camille as a qualifier for “real” then I think my scale is needs to be adjusted. Every now and then it is necessary to recalibrate any units of measure. That is nothing against the old scale, it is just that sometimes expectations begin to shift. It is as natural as the low hanging swing of an older woman’s boobs.
It is nothing to be embarrassed of, but it does need to be dealt with. Putting off the inevitable can only lead to a more detrimental outcome than dealing with it early on. This is the same mentality I take on when confronting my perpetually descending testes.
Photo Credit: MEGA