Be Careful What You Wish For!

The Evolution of My Boobs

From huge to smaller to none to fish bowls.

Be careful what you wish for.
I loved my Angelina Jolie arms, but I paid the price to wear that tank top and not be self-conscious of  the bunting I call my upper arms. Size 2 - what a great few months of blissful ignorance. Then I got a mammogram. Oh, well that explained a lot.

Have you had your mammogram this decade?

Live from Victory Circle...

This year will mark 10 years since I fell down that stupid PINK Rabbit Hole. Maybe if it had been Bunny Hop Pink! (remember Stagelight Cosmetics lipstick?) Or Bubble Gum Pink! So PEEEEEEENK that Pantone would HAVE to make it a color of the month, or at maybe Breast Cancer could copyright it! 

Victory is more than a checkered flag, or a circle in which to celebrate at the end of the race. It's a trophy to be (gently) hoisted as a symbol of overcoming obstacles, pain and fear.

Besides, what would I do with a grandfather clock? Thanks, Martinsville, but no thanks. The Gibson guitar at Nashville would be cool, though, and I know better than to try to smash it like Kyle Busch tried... and tried...and tried... to do. I bet he wishes he could take THAT moment back. 

Dude, only Pete can be Pete. And that is one heavy guitar. Get the story here, as reported by the NY Times. #boob