I originally conceived of this as front-page article, but I'll throw it up here. Maybe I'll do something similar for an article, or maybe I'll just lengthen it and see if it can be shifted.
The Nick Schtick by Nick McGrath
Your Breasts Aren't Big Enough
Nick: When did you first get your implants?
CandyBubbleGum: Have I met you before?
Nick: I'm Nick.
CandyBubbleGum: I've heard about you before.
Nick: Breasts.
One of the great things about this country is that it ain't perfect. People die, steaks get overcooked, blowjobs go tragically ungiven because some show about doctors who look like models is on – some things just don't work out. That's what makes it so satisfying to fix things; not only is America just a little broken sometimes, it's just aching to be fixed, and lucky enough, she gives us all the tools we need. Hang on y'all, I'm going somewhere with this.
One of those tools is plastic surgeons. Far be it from me to imply that any woman is less than one of God's beautiful creatures (except fat chicks, and if I don't tell them, who will?) but who am I to deny them a chance at self-improvement? Looking down on a chick for getting breast implants is like looking on a chick for going to night school. And the Nick Schtick never hates on a female getting her education on.
On the other nipple (why not?), some people will tell women who get breast implants that they're being exploited merely for their exteriors. Lucky for you, me, and Dupree, most of the fake-breasted women I know don't understand words like “exploited” and “exterior”. Which is why they had to get the breasts in the first place, but I'm getting off track.
Now there are a lot of reasons that you should get breast implants. First, they look and feel fantastic. Second, they look and feel fantastic. Third, I like to look at them. Not all of the reasons are about me – when you look good, you feel good, and vice-versa. Why do you think I walk around with a skip in my step while Gaudio writes angsty poetry about his penis? It's psychology, courtesy of The Nick Schtick.
Also, and I'm not a doctor, but they probably protect against breast cancer. Whoever heard of silicone getting a tumor? And even if you do get a titty tumor, who cares? You can just slide that bad boy out, throw it in the washing machine, and slide it back in. I researched (read: went to a strip club) this issue, and found that 4/4 women whose fake breasts I touched did not have cancer. There you have it – letting me touch your fraudulent funbags has a definite correlation with a lack of cancer. I aim to please.
Bigger breasts can open up career opportunities. Nobody ever got fired from their accounting job for having breasts were too large. People get fired for having breasts that are too small all the time, especially if you frequent the same types of establishments as me. You might not want to star in a porno movie, but isn't having options what America is about?
Women, assert your femininity. Get bigger breasts.
Labels: Boobies, Breasts, Funbags, Melons, Nick McGrath, Pastiche, Tatas