Great Blogspectations Presents... Great Boobspectations

Following close on the heels of "What a Boob", we now have "Great Boobspectations".

What did you expect, these things come in pairs you know. (Bah-dum-ching!)


'Great Boobspectations' is inspired by one Andrew of IPB who read "What a Boob" and then came across a post at KuklasKorner about a Craigslist ad that...well... you'll see. So I'm reposting the ad below...


"I have a bunch of Canucks tix, and normally I use them for business development and entertain client, or take some of my cheap friends who wont buy their own, and once in a while, my wife decides she is a hockey fan and enjoys a game.
I know there are always lots of people looking for tickets, so I figured I would post on CL, and see if there was anyone else that would like a FREE ticket to go to the game with ME…..meet a complete stranger, and spend a harmless evening watching the Nucks. I am sure the conversation will be somewhat more interesting, entertaining, or at the very least, better to look at than one of my clients or beer drinking friends.
So here is the criteria and what I propose…….I am looking for an attractive, fit, married or single, classy, BUSTY female to join me as my guest for an upcoming Canucks game. No game in particular…whatever fits both of our schedules. Ideally you would wear something classy, but with a little edge to the outfit…i love cleavage, I love big boobs, and i love a little attitude and confidence to go along with it.
This is NOT about sex, or trying to solicit a sexual encounter and I am NOT expecting anything in return before or after the game. Just some fun conversation, a cool experience, and maybe a glimpse (ok maybe two)at some nice BIG boobs….I am a total boob guy, but unfortunately, most of my clients are males, and my wife was not blessed with anything bigger than a b cup.
So…….if you fit the description, email me back, and lets see if we can set up a “Canuck date”….
me: 30, married, professionally employed, attractive, clean cut, classy and respectful."


I love the "classy and respectful" part at the end. At any rate, Mr. What A Boob has turned out to be a wonderful inspiration - I even joked that I might have to change the blog name to Great Boobspectations after all this. But then I saw reason and just did one post. However, a bunch of 'boob' talk got generated over at IPB that caused the Oh-So-Fun and lovely Katebits to share a story about an online dating profile. Katebits described it as follows:


"the guy was going on and on and on with shit like,'You should have the exotic beauty of Catherine Zeta Jones, the bubbly personality of Drew Barrymore, the quirky appeal of Audry Hepburn….ect ect.' Honestly, he went on like this FOREVER and he must have listed at least fifty movie stars and their best quality. By the time I was half way through I was literally disgusted, but I kept reading because I couldn’t believe that anyone would have such gall. (By the way, there wasn’t a single piece of information about the GUY, only the incredible list of expectations.) SO I get to the end of the profile and I am really truly aghast, and he finishes his profile with this line:

'Oh, who am I kidding? Must have big tits and a pulse.'"


That is SO hilarious.

Thank you Andrew & Katebits for your contributions to today's installment of "Great Boobspectations". Stay tuned for scenes from our next episode.

What A Boob

So I meet this guy who decides in very short order that we may possibly be soul mates or something. I've talked to a few people about some of the stuff that transpired and it has earned this dude various nicknames and mockery but I figured it was time to be really meanspirited and make fun of him on the internet. But I'm not so mean that I'm going to give his name and all that. (Gee, give me a medal).

So this guy seems smitten. Keep in mind we have had very little contact. I mean VERY little. I haven't even really formed much of an opinion of him at all. So he says to me, so I need to ask you something really important, in fact, it's a dealbreaker. (Seems a little early for this type of conversation but ok...) So I'm expecting something about how I feel about him having kids or something big like that (he does have stepkids). Instead, he says, "do you like to cuddle?" Barely waiting for an answer, he goes on to tell me how he LOVES to give footrubs and do all kinds of other "romantic" things. (ASIDE: Have I been sucked out of my regular life and right into some Harlequin romance novel? Hey, open the book wider, there's not enough room in these pages! Ack, Fabio is learing at me from the cover - read faster, I need to keep my distance!) He then waits for me to slobber like a dog and ask for his hand in marriage or something. He does not seem to be able to understand or even marginally comprehend my less than enthusiastic response. (ASIDE: Why are we talking about cuddling after 5 minutes? Is that supposed to be better than talking about sex? Am I supposed to think you must be a great sensitive guy? Because it ain't working, in fact I'm thinking you may well be a dweeb. You either are REALLY into cuddling, which is a bit odd, I mean cuddling is okay and all but there are limits OR you are just saying all this shit because you read in some handbook on women that it will get you laid. I'm not sure which option is more disturbing. Just when I think I've nailed it down to one, the other races ahead and grabs the lead.) So then he immediately follows this up with, "are you attracted to me?" Um, I've "known" you for a grand total of minutes, easy there. As I fumble through that he then says, "well do you like talking to me?" I'm unable to refrain from a sarcastic response along the lines of, "No, I'm despising every second but I don't terminate the conversation." (Upon further reflection, perhaps that wasn't so much sarcasm as prescience). And so it goes. So I end up linking something he says to Seinfeld. He then raves about how much he loves the show. So I describe this part of an episode where George is driving up to the Hamptons for the weekend with a new girlfriend. They're doing the voice over of what George is thinking. It goes something like, "if I reached out and touched her boob right now, she'd slap me, but after this weekend, I'll be able to touch it whenever I want." So I finish my description and he seems very odd. He blurts out, "I can't believe you just said that." So I, rather perplexed, say, "what, you mean boob?" I get an affirmative response and then this guy goes from, 'you are my soul mate, I want us to get to know each other in a deep and meaningful way' to 'uh, I have to run, bye'. He practically runs away. I'm left rather amused. Seriously, you couldn't handle me saying "boob"? What kind of guy are you? Hell, a friend of mine's husband practically drools if he hears that word. And I don't think he's the only one. So I'm thinking that I should use "boob" as a screening tool. Every person I meet from now on, young or old, male or female, I will use that word and if they run screaming I will be relieved to be rid of them without further adieu.

Game Day Diary, Part 3 of 3

So where was I? Ah, yes....

After the stretching I drove off to get myself showered up and have some lunch and so on. I then proceeded on a several hour journey to get myself to a hockey game. I ran into parking problems at one point and almost missed a connection. But eventually I found myself at the rink where I waited with a bunch of other early fans until the doors opened. I must have been one of the very first people through the doors. I did a quick look at some merchandise, then proceeded to check out the food and beverages. I ended up getting natchos and a Sprite (yep, I know how to have a good time!). I almost never drink Sprite, but I happened to see it and thought of Marty (Brodeur that is, not Short or Turco or Casey or....) so that's what I went with. I then proceeded to my seat. (Yes, not only do I know how to have a good time, I know how to do so all by myself. Wait. Uh... That sounded kind of kinky. Anyhoo....)

I chowed down on my natchos and took in the atmosphere as more people filed in. In the end, despite a nearly full areana, I had an empty seat on one side of me. The guys sitting on the other side I had a couple complaints about. One, the guy sits down and immediately claims both armrests. Two, they stunk. Or at least one of them did. I'm not exactly sure what it was, but I'm going to go with cigar smoke as it seemed like sitting beside a cigarette smoker times about 50. I finally smartened up and moved over a seat. Now I was beside a group of guys who were really enjoying craploads of beer. And I could tell they'd been enjoying said beer for quite some time, as they were hugging each other or otherwise demonstrating their affection for one another in a way that men (or straight ones at least) never do unless they're drunk. It was amusing.

The game itself was ok but I couldn't help but compare it to an NHL game and so it was a bit lackluster. But it was cool being in the crowd, having other people gasp at the same plays that I would and so forth. There were even some fights (on the ice). I noted that my reaction to the fights was different than usual. When watching an NHL game I get pretty into the fights. These being young hockey players (teens), I found the fights somewhat less enjoyable. Kind of brought back memories of guys fighting in high school. As a girl you sometimes felt bad for a guy who would have to fight even though he was probably really scared to take on some tough guy. But I digress.

After the game I made my way out and headed toward public transit. I had a *lovely* interaction with a guy who stared at me and then said really loudly, "Nice guns, Mama!"
I responded with, "Really, do you think so? Cool, let's go do it!"
Okay, I didn't really, duh. I also didn't pull out a couple guns and shoot the guy.
And for the record, I wasn't even wearing anything low cut or revealing or whatever. Jeans and a long sleeved shirt (green) with a hood. But I digress again.

And that concludes my "game day" report.

Theatre Talk

I recently attended a live theatre production. That sounds a little highbrow doesn't it? I'll give it to you straight - I went to a play.

The play was about several women's experiences around, basically, having babies. Or perhaps more accurately, reproductive issues or something like that. ("Accurate" and "something like that" in one sentence - I astound even myself with this sloppy communication.) Now this topic (reproduction, babies) is not exactly up my alley. (Why does that sound dirty to me?) But a friend of mine was in the play which is how I ended up going to see it. (Don't stop reading yet, I'm gonna drop some sports talk soon. [That was like when you're watching t.v. and they say 'and coming up after the break..' - a teaser.] )

So this play thing (unlike other play things, ha ha hahahaha ;) ) worked out better than expected. First of all, shortly into the play, my friends' character is in labour and in the chair beside her you see a man's jacket. Okay, that's not such a great thing I realize, but I'm getting there. So the nurse comes in and the woman gives this big speech about how her husband will be right back and he wants to share in this experience so much yada yada. Then some other stuff happens and the nurse comes back to check in again. This is where the comedy kicks in. Instead of the confident "my husband is so into this!", we now see the woman looked rather angsty (if that's not a word, too bad, I'm using it anyway) and she asks the nurse if there are any t.v.'s between her room and the cafeteria, where her husband had gone only for a moment, he didn't want to miss a minute you know, because he's so into this. The nurse says there are, and the woman says, 'oh no, the Leafs are playing tonight aren't they' with such a worried look on her face - the audience cracks up. (I did later think, why's it always have to be the Leafs! But then I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I should be thankful just to have had a mention of hockey in a play such as this one and to not get greedy.)

So anyway, there was also a teen girl having a baby and she brought the comedy as well. The audience was loving her. Her screamed exclamations of "oh shit that hurts!!!" brought quite the chuckles especially as they contrasted so well with the other more serious women. All the women also did little vignettes in which they spoke aloud their inner thoughts - I think there's a name for that in theatre - solliquay? I especially liked the first half, the second half got more into the issues side of things (the play was meant to be eductional) as we heard the women express the pain of not being able to have children, of making choices between abortion or adoption, and some of the issues around surrogacy, egg donation, etc. All the actors were fabulous. I was impressed.

So after the curtain, the actors and director and some other person whose job description I can't be bothered to give a name to all sat down on the edge of the stage to interact with the audience. That was some good times. Two highlights in particular.

One, an older woman started going on and on about teenage pregnancy - she was blathering more than anything but it came across that teens should really give up their babies because of course they'd grow up in poverty, single-parented, etc. I think I could feel discomfort in the air. Soon after a woman in the front row blasted this woman, saying that she had been a teenage mom, she was 27 now and had 4 kids and she's a damn good mother and that sort of thing. There were no fisticuffs.

Second, a man in the audience (yes, there were some - all related to the actors in the play perhaps - that sounds like a generalization, but all the ones I saw were) made a series of positive comments about the play, adding that it was the first time he realized he wasn't a woman. That got some chuckles for a moment before he went on to explain that he knew he was a man, he wasn't suffering from a gender identity crisis of some kind, it was just that it suddenly hit him that women have to deal with these issues just due to being born female. Now normally I would roll my eyes and think something along the lines of, 'wow, this guy's really milking this sensitive guy thing, wonder how often that strategy gets him laid', but this time I actually found the comment interesting.

I guess I'll have to find a play about men's reproductive issues now to balance things out.