August 7, 2015

I am in favor of boobs. I have enjoyed some wonderful boobs in my day. And last night, OMG, was the boob of boobs night. Fox Sports 1 had the Miss Hooters Contest and that other Fox network overflowed with boobery.

Fox Sports 1 emailed me in my role as journalist last week, to ask if I would participate as a judge from my home. Each home judge would focus on one part of the female body. I got “thigh gap.” I was to concentrate on that area and rate the gaps. One of the scantily clad young women had a four inch gap. You could have put a fist in there.

But I was distracted all contest long, as my eyes would wander up to the chests of the mostly breast-enhanced young ladies, their boobs shaped like ripe, fat cantaloupes and spilling from their tops. Poofy, bleached blonde hair seemed to be a requirement, as well as ultra-high spiked heeled shoes, recessing the thigh gaps and making me sit very near my HD television so that I could be completely fair.

Each Hooters Girl represented a region of the country. Miss Illinois works in Champaign—Go Orange! She made the top ten, but Miss Georgia had the best peach—I mean, thigh gap.

Meanwhile, Fox News, in an attempt to humiliate the non-debate candidates, shot them in a darkened stadium with no audience and even had a Lindsey Graham-cam which cut to him standing on a platform because he is height challenged. They were questioned by a woman who may have been a former Hooters Girl—wow, the enhanced boobies on that bleached blonde gal!

Carley Fiorina, she of the growing nose and failed leadership of Hewlitt Packard, got off a shot at Hillary claiming that Hil lied about someone named Ben Gazara. Rick Perry, who sent a wrongfully-convicted man to death—Oops!—looked like a deer in the stadium spotlights.

Meanwhile, in the official boob debate, Don the Clown scared little children, nut ball Dr. Ben Carson came across as intellectual, I Heart Huckabees defiled the constitution, and Governor Scot “Screw Unions” Walker reminded me of a junior high school bully. Someone should take that guy to the school office for some swats. “I already kicked out Planned Parenthood,” Walker sneered. It’s a pity his mother didn’t practice birth control.

Politicans; boobs. Now, that’s a tautology!

And they all praised God, who is not a boob and who should have put all of the actual boobs out of their misery with a swift lightning bolt. Instead, He laughed.

“It’s a grand night for boobies.” I think that’s a line from a Rogers and Hammerstein musical. If not, copyright 2015, Eugene Baldwin.

And it was grand. Some in the shell peanuts, some cabernet sauvignon, some cat petting, some spectacular thigh gaps. . .

And the singing of, and the winging it of, and the melony of: the boobs, the boobs, the boobs and boobery everywhere.

About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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