Squaws - then and now

The hallway that you have to walk down at work to get to Subway has old pictures of Native Americans hung on the walls. One of them had this squaw standing near a stream and she wasn't a Disney Sacajawea, either. Her boobs hung past her belly button. It was disturbing. It made me self-consciously adjust my bra in order to perk mine up.

I'm not bragging here folks, just tellin' it like it is...I have DD's. They drive me nuts. They are their own personalities and with PMS, that's too many personalities for this one body. They get in my way. They're saggy. They stretch my bras. And they won't leeeeeeaave. Now, I know what it is to release them from their holding pens and let them hang free at night. No way, no how could I do that all day.

How did that squaw do anything? Wanna skin a buffalo? Better tie those babies up, because you might knick one. Wanna cook dinner over that open flame? You best better roast weiners on a really long stick because you need something that sticks out further than those babies. Wanna nurse your child? How!? You can't see them over your boobs!!! Gotta run from an adversary's war party? Watch out for that speed wobble!

Thank goodness for underwire and spandex...modern squaws' best friends.