breasts of baltimore

tonight i creped at the best of baltimore party. we each got a turn to wander around. we were supposed to play a game where we picked our top 5 attractive people at the party. i really couldn't pick any, but my, the ample bosoms. you have never seen as many ample bosom as at the best of baltimore party. it wasn't funny, because with no non-amples there was no context for comparison or humor. otherwise, and in addition, disappointment. really a networking/gen-X money event. once i got some seared tuna into my dressed-up belly everyone really blended together. i really did mean that my belly alone was dressed up.

people should really think about watching 2-year-olds eat tiny quiches, all the time.

yesterday my parents took me to the aquarium. true. much more true than belly statement above. highlights: hog-nosed turtle; obesity. it's nice to be an adult in a setting like that, where you can go, "mom? dad? i can't look at any more fish, i'm sorry. something about it makes me remember that time in the air and space museum when that kid with the mullet threw up his foot-long hot dog."


Ryan W. said...

I{m going to set aside some time to try to come to a better understanding of this sometime

bender said...

i'm wondering if this is one of your pre-written comments, but regardless, please do set aside some time.

Ryan W. said...

no. havent prewriten any in a while. time set aside. if it was prewritten it would be no less sincere by which I dont mean to suggest that I am uniformly bankrupt with respect to sincerity.
I actually read the post but was-am too dim but even in the dim recesses, something bristled suggesting that I should read it again when I´m a different sentient.

bender said...

that's funny, because i think it's one of my shallower posts. i mean, about boobs and all. but still sincere. especially about overstimulation--memories dredged for the formative terrors of childhood, by an environment of the museum by any definition--as a child seeing other children throw up; as a child seeing other children with arms ending at the wristbone; the way that stuff stays.