So......the Saturday night after Halloween, I found myself walking around Fremont St. around midnight. I had just playing almost 10 hours of poker in the Binion’s 2PM weekend Deepstack. There will definitely be a post about that tournament forthcoming. Maybe more than one. After all, although most of my readers tell me they love my extra-long posts, there are few kvetches out there who love to complain whenever a post of mine takes more than two minutes to read. So I may have to split the story about the tournament into more than one post.
But in the meantime, I want to talk about something repulsive I saw on Fremont Street that night, after the tournament.
That’s not a typo.
If you’ve ever walked around Fremont St., you know there are “street performers” there, all dressed up in some kind of costume. They want to pose for pictures for you, or with you, in exchange for money. That’s how they make their living.
So on this night, there were the usual collection of fake showgirls, Super-Heroes, Elvis impersonators, etc, etc. I don’t think that the proximity of Halloween had anything to do with it. This was just Fremont Street on a Saturday evening.
Suddenly, as I walking, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It looked sort of like a profile of a huge, seemingly bare, bosom, attached to someone.
It was so freakishly large and unnatural looking that I thought they might be fake boobs. And by fake, I don’t mean implants. At first glance, I thought they might be prosthetic boobs, part of some costume. You know, the top part of the costume might have been a set of “tits” that were designed to look bare, even though they were made of something…clothe, paper mache, play-doh, whatever. I actually thought it might have been a guy wearing the outfit since, after all, a ridiculous set of home-made ta-ta’s like that would be funnier on a guy than a woman.
I turned around to get a better look. I was surprised to see that the possessor of this outfit was indeed a woman. Then I noticed the breasts weren’t hand-made at all, they weren’t a costume.
They certainly appeared to be ginormous breasts attached to a real live woman.
And they were completely exposed, completely bare, except for some red paint covering the nipular area. Actually, it wasn’t just some red paint, it was a lot of red paint. Now, it might have been make-up, not paint, and I suppose it might have been some kind of clothe or tape, but it sure looked like paint to me.
Aside from the red paint, the woman was completely topless. Although there was a lot of paint at the lower part of her breasts, there was a lot more—and I mean a lot more—breast exposed than covered. My assumption was that the red paint was covering huge areolas.
Which would make sense because these breasts were simply gigantic. And not even remotely attractive.
Yes, they were definitely too big. They were sagging, hanging, pendulous—pick your favorite adjective. I’m pretty sure they reached below her navel. She was wearing something—I have no idea what—from the waist down. But from the waist up, she was essentially topless, save the red paint covering a minimal portion of these humongous juggs.
These were not mere Double-D’s. Not EE’s or FF’s. Much, much bigger than that. Triple-Z’s? Maybe.
Honestly, it was one of the most unattractive things I’ve ever seen in my life.
After confirming what it was I had seen, I looked away immediately. I’m pretty sure if I had looked at this display for even five more seconds, I would lose all interest in knockers for life.
And 10 seconds after that, I might have lost my interest in women altogether.
Yeah, that’s how hideous this sight was.
And I actually had to wonder how she was allowed to walk around like that. I realize this is Vegas. Almost anything goes. And I realize if this woman who had more normal looking breasts, such an “outfit” would have been sexy and attractive. But this was well beyond a well-endowed woman wearing a cleavage-exposing top. This was just a whole lot of ghastly-looking tits bouncing around almost completely uncovered on Fremont St.
Extremely unattractive tits.
If ever in the history of mankind there was a case of indecent exposure, this was it. Yet she wasn’t busted (so-to-speak), at least up until that point. I assumed she had been walking around like that for awhile.
It’s really rare for me to want to go up to a woman and tell her to put a shirt on. In fact, I can’t recall ever having that urge before. But there I was, thinking this woman needed a shirt in the worst way.
In case you’re wondering, I would have to assume that this woman was exposing her original factory equipment. She did not have a good figure, and as I said, she was almost capable of playing soccer with those things. I’m thinking if some crazy woman had ordered implants that big, they would not be sagging this much, even taking into account how unnatural large they were.
But honestly, I didn’t spend a lot of time trying to figure it out. I looked away as soon as I could.
I searched the internet for an appropriate picture to accompany this post.
The below picture of Nicki Manaj was the closest I could find. But Ms. Manaj is not anywhere nearly as busty as the woman I saw on Fremont. Also, the woman on Fremont did not have star-shaped painted on pasties. There were more circular.
No, compared to the woman on Fremont, Nicki is flat-chested. She looks like Natalie Portman or Keira Knightley compared to that Fremont St woman.
And in my opinion, the Fremont woman should have been arrested. Or at least ordered to cover up.
Yeah, that’s what I said.
Oh, I guess I should address the title of this post. I suppose some will say that it is inaccurate. Technically, the ginormous breasts weren’t quite bare, since you couldn’t see the nipples. Believe it or not, I’ve had discussions with my friends about what constitutes a bare breast, and it is generally agreed that in order to qualify, a nipple must be seen.
So I’m fudging a little. Sorry. Just a little practice in case I ever decide to run for public office.
Anyway…..definitely too much—way too much—of a good thing.