Beating the Sweater Meat, THE SEQUEL-Two Against One.....

So I was going to write about music this week, but the fascination with the bozongas has forced to me have a second part to the story.

I realise, as I always do AFTER I post something, that I kinda cut the shopping trip part short in order to not sound rambly.

While I like Grampa Simpson, I'd rather not sound like him. Although a mid-blog nap does sound really good right now.......

Anyways, the sports bra I ended up taking home is working fine. If you don't mind the side boob.
And the muffin top titties. Oh and don't forget the back fat....never forget about the back fat.

You see when I picked this torture device off the rack, I only looked at the band width, which is 42. I am a 40-42.
So I thought this would be an easy fit.

But I was wrong. So very wrong.

While it did pass the drunk girl bouncy test in the dressing room, what I didn't tell you is I had to get into it one hooter at a time.

Let me walk you through how that worked.

For those of you with kids, you know how this first step looks.
Put the bra over my head and squeeze the bingo wings through the minuscule arm holes.
Its okay if it looks like Play-Doh coming out of the press, that's what its supposed to look like

Next I stand there looking like I am Houdini in the straight jacket, arms still partially up, and pray I can get this bitch off later without cutting it.
With my tits still hanging down to my belly button, naturally.

Somehow I managed some leverage, enough to reach thru the top of the bra, pulling whatever I could grab through the vacuum packing, getting one fun bag half into the bra. Now I have one full boob hanging out of the bra, and the other is almost all in, except my nipple, with is still due south, but partially covered.

At least at this point I could lower my arms. Yay me.

With one tater tot in, I stuffed the other one up into the sausage casing, happy to no longer look like a sideshow attraction.

I really did look like someone had tied a rope around a tube of biscuit dough. There were parts of me hanging and bulging out everywhere.

Thelma and Louise were not happy about the forcible confinement, and were trying to make a break for it from multiple angles.

Now to the arrangement. I felt like I was working on a Bonsai tree, I did so many tweaks on the Dairy Bombs.

No,to the left, now the right, too much side boob, top spillage....push`em back down.
Too much under boob!! Wait wait, now there are four!! How are there four??
Lets worry about the front, the back can wait a minute.
Nipples! They should be pointing ahead, not east west and south. Ahead, not hiding under the armpits!!

This sports bra, which was obviously meant for a smaller cup sized 42, actually did fit, it just took me 10 mins to squeeze into.
Passed the jiggle test, once adjusted, and kept the Girls flat as pancakes.
Which was the whole point.
I could care less how it looks, as long as I don't get knocked out while running.

I haven`t been knocked out while running (yet) BTW.

So now you know the lengths in which I went to subdue my milk cannons.


I`ll let you know how Hot Yoga went, and the Music topic you all were expecting tonight.

:)