Allow us to make introductions. We are GirlClumsy's breasts. And we're here to talk for just a moment about ourselves.
You see, we're not ones to brag, but we're quite respectable. GirlClumsy does tend to be rather critical about her appearance, but even so she has very much ... well, embraced us. To be frank, she's very nearly exploited us. We've turned up in almost every onstage production she's ever been involved with. So much so, we're thinking about getting an agent and cutting in for 20 per cent.
Despite our general all-round pleasantness, we do actually have a medical condition, called "benign breast disease". Sounds worrying, doesn't it? Put simply, it means we retain some slightly thicker tissue in certain areas. Poor GirlClumsy. The first time the doctor pointed out the thicker tissue - which is predominantly in our upper, outer portions, closer to the armpits - she was so disappointed. She had thought it was muscle. Oh, how we laughed. Perhaps do some more bicep curls, GirlClumsy! You don't just magic in muscle!
For us - we don't mind being seen as "benign". GirlClumsy herself is quite the dramatic type, you see. She overthinks certain things, underthinks others. She places emphasis on all sorts of things that really don't deserve her time. Really, she should take a leaf out of our book. The dictionary definition of benign is being gracious, kind, good, pleasant, favourable, salubrious. And we are all of those things. While never exposing us totally to ridicule, GirlClumsy certainly has fallen back on us (or should that be fallen "front" on us?) for cheap laughs or an instant conversation starter. And we've never protested, or become difficult - we've taken it all in our stride, and retained a certain dignity in even the most blood-splattered circumstances.
|Critics hailed it as "a bravura performance, full of lace and gusto."|
The examination itself was fairly orderly: we were compliant, and didn't make any fuss as the probe glided over our surfaces. The radiographer seemed pleased, reporting that there was no indication of anything problematic.
Of course, we were thrilled. She tries, but GirlClumsy isn't the best at doing the self-examinations that ladies are supposed to do. She's never quite sure if she's getting it right (another reason to look into that agent), so it's good to have a professional give us the all-clear.
Having said that, there are many busts that do not receive the good news we did. At these times we like to think about those cleavages, facing a journey that they never expected to take. We thought it would be a good idea to make mention of those breasts, and pay tribute to the women who fight on their behalf. There are many ways people can help these breasts, but we would suggest providing care and support whenever you can as the best. In many ways, a good friend and a good bra are much the same.
GirlClumsy herself celebrates a rather significant birthday in less than two months. One of those ones with a zero. She's a little terrified of it. She fears growing older, and whether she'll be able to continue utilising us for comedic and filling-out-a-dress purposes. She forgets that we're considerably younger than she is. There's no definitive birthdate when it comes to breasts, of course, but we first began making an impact in the early 90s, which would place us, at most, 17. Frankly, we're positively youthful. Can you believe GirlClumsy's mother, who was more jog-friendly in the chest department, was worried we wouldn't develop at all? GirlClumsy was quite a sticky, gangly child. She still is all flailing limb, but possesses ample rounded parts thanks to genetics on her father's side of the family. GirlClumsy's grandmother in fact once famously proclaimed that had her husband been a leg man, they never would have married.
You can see where GirlClumsy gets it from.
We want to assure GirlClumsy that as long as sportsbra technology keeps developing, we'll be around and upright for many years to come. And we're happy being benign.