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How Big Is Too Big?

In this era of gigantic asses and moderately sized manufactured melons, a set of big fake circus t**s can be a nice walk down mammary lane.

I've written as much in my titular tome, The BFT Conundrum, where I explain the nostalgic phenomenon wherein BFTs (you figure out the acronym) have the power to transport men back to a simpler time - back to the 80s and 90s, where women chose go big (REAL BIG) when electing to enhance their existing ellipses.

I stand by my original work. BFTs remain a fun flashback to the height of the Baywatch era, when stars like Carmen Electra, Pamela Anderson and, yes, Donna D'Errico, shunned normative bust to waist standards in lieu of a more. . . robust option.

Yet, a video came to my attention last week that requires a response. I would share the video here, but it contains full nudity, and Flappr is NOT a smut blog, so I will only share the following (censored) screenshot:

*silent contemplation*

Here is the link to the (uncensored) video, but remember - if you choose to click and watch you are the degenerate, not me.

So. . . when I say "set of big fake circus tits" I did not intend to imply that the circus was a freakshow. Those are more than big, those are "the doctor responsible for these should be investigated" level big.

Believe it or not, the vast majority of men agree that yes, there comes a point where big becomes TOO BIG.

The charm of BFTs comes from concept that woman has chosen to enhance herself in a way that she feels best accentuates her ideal feminine form (and that ideal form befits a set of large luscious liberty bells). When a woman chooses a form that more closely resemble Chinese spy balloons, the allure is replaced with concern or, at best, morbid curiosity.

Now, this fun bag framework does not apply in direct parallel to big natural shoulder boulders. While size limits do exist for untainted umlauts, the threshold for when milky, milky, milky becomes holy shit, that woman should probably see a doctor is far more forgiving.

This discrepancy can almost certainly be attributed to considerations of personal agency. The average man is keen enough to identify a set of heredity howitzers and realize that God created them in his image. Conversely, when the average man spots 1:1 scale replicas of the Epcot Center bolted onto the front of a woman's chest - he is more inclined to question her judgment and less likely to question his initial antipathy.

This is not to say that a woman who has elected to increase her bustline to the limits of the space-time continuum is a bad person.

She must have her reasons.

Perhaps weird Japanese anime has influenced her concept of the ideal feminine form.

Perhaps she's in a relationship with a man (or woman) who has a fetish for extremely large breasts.

Perhaps she was inspired by the booby-trap scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

This is the performance he SHOULD'VE won an Oscar for, imo.

Regardless, my intent here is not to shame this woman or any others who choose the less trodden path of synthetic silos of saline superiority. No, I'm just a mere man, offering what he believes to be the opinion of the average man.

But I mean, come on. . . they are too big, though. She's going to accidentally send a midget to the hospital if she turns suddenly.

Happy Tuesday and God Bless America.

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