AKA tits, knockers, funbags, chesticles, Crystal and Lola…no wait that’s their names, breasts, cha-chas…oh hell here’s a list

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…

An open letter to titties:

Dear Personal Pillows ,

I love you. I love the way you feel in my hands…the way you taste…the way I have to lather you with sunscreen if the sun is even thinking of coming out. I love the way you glisten when wet, the way that liquid rolls off of you. I love how you always manage to hold my head just right when I’m leaning on someone who has you…or how mine fit snugly between another pair as I hug someone with a matching set. You are amazing be you Bouncy and firm, or soft and heavy…be you small, large or anywhere in between. You are desired in a way which few things can parallel. You are the subject of fascination no matter what your current state or how long you’ve been around. You are amazing, glorious, spectacular, and wonderful at every moment. You offer control and confidence but can as easily take those things away, and although sometimes you make it hard to wear the cloths I want…or to squeeze into fun places like under my bed…I’d be a mess without you.  It is with these things in mind that I thank you every day for allowing me unlimited access to you. Oh hooters, oh Jugs I love you so.

- The Mayor