Well, almost. After 5 months of relentless political correctness at The Institute, my real frivolous self is desperate to come out. There is no shopping to be done at lunchtime, except for bagels and cut-price newspapers (the Daily Telegraph is the cheapest at £0.30, because it's pro-Tory and therefore A Bad Thing, so that's the one I buy to stick it to the man). Online shopping is arduous too, as people constantly come into my tiny, shoebox-sized office to use the printer. It's a hard life. All I want is a bit of glamour, a bit of fun. So last Sunday, when I met up with Laura from The Company (do you remember Laura? My ally and protegee?), I dragged her to Bravissimo and treated us to some new bras. After much pondering, I eventually settled for two of the most cleavage-enhancing, pneumatic-effect inducing ones. Here's what they look like.
Eat this, Institute: you can test me every day with your noble actions to save the world from hunger, global warming and gender inequality; you can take away my rights to a kettle, a fridge and a full size mirror in the ladies'. But you cannot, I repeat, you CANNOT take away my right to supreme BOOBAGE.
This is me metaphorically clicking the "Like" button, a la Facebook.
Posted by: gotimmy | 09 July 2009 at 11:50 PM
Supreme boobage FTW!
Posted by: SFG | 20 August 2009 at 10:23 AM