In Appreciation Of…
I was derelict in my blogging duties in October. The tenth month of the year pulls triple duty. In addition to being the month that contains what many believe is the birthday of the homie Satan, it is also Domestic Violence AND Breast Cancer Awareness Month. My anger and disgust over The NFL’s disastrous incorporation of pink into some uniforms in observance of Breast Cancer Awareness Month caused a cooling of relations between me and my oldest friends; The Tittays of The World.
A simple classy ribbon logo to show solidarity with breasts should have been enough. My disappointment with The Shield for its fashion faux pas has subsided, and my love for breasts in all of their shapes and sizes have returned. All of them are beautiful, but not all of them are of equal importance. No breasts are of more historical, environmental, economic, and cultural importance as the funbags that belong to Aretha Franklin.
Aretha’s Breasts are real, and they are spectacular.
Aretha’s Breasts work in concert with The Moon to regulate the tides of the ocean.
Did you know Aretha’s breasts are the reason that Scralett O’Harra never went hungry again?
NASA satellites broadcast the sound that Aretha’s heaving bosom makes when she walks into the far reaches of space in an effort to entice intelligent life into communicating with us puny Earthlings.
Aretha’s boobs are officially a sovereign nation, and have signed The Kyoto Protocols, but do not recognize The Geneva Conventions.
The citizens of Arethasbreastistan live in a Socialist Utopia that is the most technologically advanced nation on the planet. The citizens practice a religion based around a Breast Spirit. The Marvel Universe nation of Wakanda is loosely based on it.
Those are a few facts about Aretha’s lovely lady lumps that you may have been unfamiliar with.