Step On A Crack, Break Your Mother’s Back.

*I am mentally preparing myself for the up and coming torture that is the A-Z Challenge. So here’s one from the archives.*

What you are about to read is real. These are not just mere words of fiction, but a glimpse into the life of big chested women everywhere. Do not look upon them as falsehoods for they are anything but.

My trials began on a journey to the hospital, that was to take me to see a man of science. Some might label him a ‘Witch Doctor’, or a ‘Shaman’, others may use the oft used title of just ‘Doctor’…Okay, we all use the term ‘Doctor’ but I’m trying to use some poetic license here, jeez.

Ain't nobody who do Voodoo like you do.

Ain’t nobody who do Voodoo like you do.

Speeding haphazardly on foot toward my destination, I did spy my ride, the number 69 bus headed to where I needed to be. Already late for my appointment, I busied myself in the way that so often happens when one rushes around but never really seems to accomplish much and with the time of my consultation looming persistently in my head, my eagerness caused me to make a fatal judgement of error.

There it waited at it’s aligned spot, shining brightly like a beacon of ‘on-timeness…’ that is until I saw the driver indicate, a sure sign that the vehicle was about to depart. My error? You all ask not really giving a toss…I ran and in doing so, mayhem ensued.


Now my body although lithe (HA!) and spry, (*coughs* Liar!) is also somewhat encumbered by my mammaries of ginormous proportions and as I ran, my Pendulous Breasts buoyed on by this activity, soon gained momentum and in doing so, begun swinging incredibly from side to side. This movement along with my quickly doubling speed, abruptly changed to an up and down motion, whereby the thunderous clapping of their rise and descent could be heard clearly throughout the city.

It was at this point that events took a turn for the worse.

I couldn't find an image of pendulous breasts that didn't fall under the Obscene Publications Act of 1958, so here's a picture of Ben Barnes instead...oh my, I think I've just wet meself.

I couldn’t find an image of pendulous breasts that didn’t fall under the Obscene Publications Act of 1958, so here’s a picture of Ben Barnes instead…oh my, I think I’ve just wet meself.

 And that’s when I stepped heavily upon a crack, thereby breaking my mother’s back, her screams ringing out for all to hear. But that was of no concern to me at that moment in time. I would have to tend to her later. Propelled ever onward by the trajectory power of the wind gathered steadily under the skin of my bat wings, I was jettisoned forward as they flapped hideously back and forth, my feet almost leaving the ground. And with each heavy pounding of my footsteps, my protruding upper organs continued to rise and fall, only to rise once too often.
"Step on a crack, break your mother's back..." Or push the bitch down a flight of stairs after she refuses to look after the Spawn again...

“Step on a crack, break your mother’s back…” Or push the bitch down a flight of stairs after she refuses to look after the Spawn again…

I saw it happening before it actually did. Saw the uplift of my Sweater Stretchers and there was nothing that I could do to prevent what occurred next. Momentarily my view was blocked as they made their way towards my visage, blinding me from the path that lay ahead. In response, I lifted my right arm to shield myself from the impact of the blow but my bat-wings collided fully with my face, covering both my oral and nasal orifices and thereby suffocating me temporarily in the process. Quickly removing my arm and placing it by my side, I gasped desperately for air. This left my face unattended, giving my Lady Lumps the advantage that they had been seeking. Stunned by the solid bearing of my Swollen Appendages, I hit the pavement…hard, the pain of concussion reverberating throughout my skull. Then I blacked out.

Luckily, my bat wings are not the circumference of a small nation.

Luckily, my bat wings are not the circumference of a small nation.

When I awoke, I was in hospital surrounded by med students who had come to not only see for themselves, the woman who had been KO’d by her own Double Breasted Pillows but to marvel at the friction caused by the act of running as my thighs rubbing together, released an atmospheric charge, reaching an equilibrium with opposing polarity earth charges, bringing forth the opening of a sizable black hole in which a paradox was thus created throughout time and space. I’m sure you heard about it on the 9:00 news.

 Luckily the injuries sustained due to my Weighty Companions, included only a minor fracture of the jaw, a chipped tooth and two black eyes and as I turned my head, a sigh of relief issuing forth from my wired jaw, I spied my mother trussed up, complete with back brace on the bed beside my own. The ordeal of my day had finally ended and with my eyes heavy with the burden of sleep, I couldn’t help but smile to myself as my mother loudly cursed the very day that she has removed her IUD coil, which had then resulted in my birth, that I had made it on time to the hospital.

18 thoughts on “Step On A Crack, Break Your Mother’s Back.

  1. I thought about saying something funny or rude but I am far too mature for that. Instead I will keep my message nipple.. SIMPLE (I meant simple) and just say how awful it must bra.. BE (sorry).
    I think you should go via the boob – TUBE (damn it) in future. That would probably be for the BREAST… I meant BREAST.. godno! ………breast. (what’s wrong with me).


    • Dammit Mr H, I’m supposed to be on a strict diet, but I laughed so hard, that the momentum of my shoulders moving up and down in said laughing motion, caused the Salt n Vinegar crisp packet that I had been holding (hiding) to rustle rather loudly, thereby alerting the Lil man to the fact that his mother is a lying two-faced, conniving woman with no scruples whatsoever. I was hoping to hide this fact from him until he brought his first date home, or some other momentous occasion in his life. I would have gotten away with it to, if it hadn’t been for your pesky comment.


  2. HA! Too funny. It sounds like you’re built similarly to my old college room mate. Back in those days, I barely weighed a hundred pounds, and I’m pretty sure each of her boobs weighed about the same…


    • Susan, I’m blaming all the spinach I ate as a child. Unlike Popeye, the effects seemed to have bypassed my biceps and now I am forced to carry around what feels like two Manatees trying to escape a rather large fishing net.


  3. I think in future Miss Lily a brisk walking pace will be OK or have you tried a skateboard, I was good on a skateboard, right up to my late twenties (this was the first time skateboards were cool, a long time ago). . . but well there was this wall and. . . . .

    Or a bike, bikes are good, but walking is safer. personally I use the car these days but buses in the country are rare.

    I was planning to write a post about stepping on the cracks in pavements at some point soon.

    I have fallen over while trying to walk with a jumper half over my head but I guess that is not the same

    Who is that chap he looks a bit dodgy is he a shoplifter. . . .


    • Ooooooo and remember the A to Z . . . . Think nice thoughts of a quiet middle class slightly mad British type and all will be well. . . no naughty words parts of pictures or diagrams. . .


    • Mr Z, I was always hopeless on a skateboard and I kept falling off the bike, even with the stabilizers on. don’t drive as I have a fear of road rage…my own that is, so the bus is my only option and even then, the only people who will sit next to me, are those that smell slightly of pee, or those that are deep in conversation with the lord. From what I hear, he’s a crap conversationalist.

      The chap is Ben Barnes who plays Prince Caspian in the Chronicle of Narnia films and Dorian Grey in the 2009 remake. But I’m intrigued as to what makes him look like a shoplifter? Is it the bag he carries that has ‘swag’ written across it? And although I may regret asking this, why were you walking with a jumper half over your head? You crazy eccentrics and your fashion statements.


  4. OMG, Lily, this made me want to laugh and cry, great post! Being rather large chested myself, I know about “mammaries of ginormous proportion” swinging all over the place when you run and I’ve fallen chest forward too with a thump! Poor you ending up in the hospital with a concussion and all those injuries, ouch! KO’d by your own “double breasted pillows” LOL…even in pain you found humor. Btw, Ben Barnes is hot!!


    • Thank you Madilyn. I think that each of may mammaries of ginormous proportions, weighs about one Jessica Rabbit each! I’m pretty sure that if I were to have a holiday romance and fell in love with a man who didn’t have a visa to come to the UK, I could smuggle my illicit lover out of the country by tucking him under my left breast.

      Oh my Lord and ouch! Falling chest first?! Just that sentence alone makes me wanna cross my arms in a protective manner…but I can’t quite get my them to meet in order to do so. Damn Stretcher Sweaters!

      Ben Barnes is the father of my future children. He just doesn’t know it yet.


    • Well hello back Mr Powers, it’s good to see you here!
      As you can see, I had a midlife blogging crisis and decided to defect and start all over again…stupid stupid woman. I should have just gotten myself botox and a 19 year old boy toy, both would have been less painful than starting an account on wordpress, but I’m here now and eager to mess with the minds of the masses…when the masses finally get here that is.

      It’s good to have you onboard Frank. 🙂


  5. Well, well, well…you have finally lost your damn mind woman. I cannot believe you’re doing the A-Z again. Not this chick. It just about killed me last year. Oh, and I look like that kid when I run too.


    • Elsie, I know I know and already I’m regretting it and it hasn’t even started yet!
      Maybe it’s because I didn’t take part last year and now my one brain cell has fooled itself into thinking that it will be a piece of piss this time. The Good thing is that Spawn is also taking part this year, so we’ll both be able to offer each other some love and support when the mental breakdowns begin.


  6. Oh how I love the precious prose of your parts! And now your mothers as well!
    I too have “Bingo Wings” or as my friend got me to start calling them, HiEthals. When people ask what that means I lift my arms and yell “Hi Ethal!” and they laugh, until they see the rippling flesh under my arm, then they’re horrified. It’s great fun!


    • Joy, your friends are cruel…actually, they sound like my kinda people. Unfortunately and due to my bat wings, I no longer wave at people I see in the streets. It may only take a second to wave a brief hello, but it takes about 10 minutes for the jiggling effects to subside. I suppose I could always take a leaf out of Madonna’s book…on second thoughts…


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