Now that's what I call a rack.

My husband and I were watching this plastic surgery show on Discovery Health Channel last night that showcased a 50-something woman with size 38 double I breasts who was getting a breast reduction. You read that right--38 double I. I as in igloo or Istanbul or isthmus. Do you know how large a pair of size 38 double I breasts are? They're HUGE! Mutantly huge. Her bras had to be specially made and were 72 inches around. They had to install teflon shoulder pads in the straps so they couldn't cut into her shoulders. These things hung down around her stomach, they were so large. Of course, she suffered from back pain, headaches and chronic rashes because of carrying around such a load everyday. Anyway, after the surgery, during which the doctor removed over 11 lbs of tissue, she was still left with E-cup breasts. I don't know, if you're going to get them fixed, get them fixed. I would have had the doctors cut them down to at least a C-cup. I mean, they were still pretty large afterwards. Apparently, this went over well with her husband who dubbed himself a "boob man." No shit, Sherlock.

What's really amazing is that she lived with these monstrous things for soooooo long. She said part of the reason was that she was afraid of surgery. I can appreciate that because the thought of people cutting off parts of your body is scary. But for the ever-living love of God, I can't imagine carrying around so much weight on my chest. The thing is that all the weight of her breasts were really stretching out her skin, the part of her skin right at chest level. The skin hung down a good six inches before you even began to hit the bulk of her breasts. It wasn't a pretty sight.

I was reading a little of New York escort's most recent post in which a regular client offered her at least $10,000 to have sex with his dog while he watched. She doesn't really want to do it because, appropriately, the idea of having carnal knowledge of a dog sickens her. However, she is so tempted by the idea of a large payoff that she's got 1% of hesitancy over the whole deal. She's asked her readers for advice. Most of them have come in on the side of BAD IDEA. But it raises some interesting questions about the power of money. She says the idea disgusts her, yet she's willing to entertain it because of the money. Personally, I don't think one should ever compromise their values for money because that's more akin to selling your soul than selling your body. This flesh and blood case is finite, but the soul--depending on your belief system--is infinite. To think you can exchange it for the corporeal is unfortunate, to say the least. But even if none of that matters to you, I am going to go out on a limb and suggest that as a general rule of thumb, screwing a dog (literal and figurative) will never make your life better.