like a swiss army knife, only not

i have utility boobs, y'all! sure, they perform the normal tasks of getting boys to buy me drinks and maybe one day feeding babies (hmm, priorities much?), but there's more. they're a handy shelf and cupholder, as you all know, and act like a mary poppins bag to hide all sorts of unexpected lost things (one day i'll discover a fishing fleet that disappeared off the bermuda triangle, i swear).

and the newest trick? i can catch things with them. i promise i discovered this in complete innocence as a torrent of shittery fell out of my closet, but it's going to end up being a team sport on some sketchy beach somewhere, i tell you. or possibly on a tv show, as another variant of the contest where you have to catch something with your hands tied behind your back. or hell, maybe just in a bar -- but in that case it'd have to be started by drunk chicks in order for them to get away with something so undeniably spectator-oriented.

at any rate. it's an adventure of endless discovery... sort of like training a puppy.