Brimples

Well today I decided to dress up a little. Now my idea of dress up and most other people’s idea of dress up are two different things. My dressing up involved my “nice” jeans that actually fit now that I’ve lost weight and my favorite black blouse. The blouse is the kind that has designated areas for your boobs to go. It’s also a little low cut to show off my ample, although not as ample as it once was since I’ve lost weight, cleavage. It was a good looking outfit, if I do say so myself.

To finish up my ensemble, I decided to break out my fake diamond earrings. I went to the bathroom to see how well I cleaned up and I was appalled by what I saw. There was not 1 but 2 big ass pimples occupying space on my body where they were not welcome. You know, once you hit your mid 30’s, pimples shouldn’t even be allowed to form but there they were smiling back at me. I know that 2 pimples aren’t that big of a deal but these pimples pissed me off because they were prominently displayed on my perky ample cleavage. That’s right, I have breast pimples or brimples as I call them.

My breasts are huge and these pimples could have had probably a good 100 square ft of space to play with if they just had to park on my chest. So why would they pick the area that is visible to the rest of the world? Why didn’t they go underneath where no would see them? Hell, I have moles under there so they could have had company. But no, they decided that if I was going to go out and see the world, they wanted to come with. Damn brimples. Well, I showed them. I changed into a turtle neck shirt even though it’s 85 degrees out. I hope them little bastards sweat to death in there.

I hate brimples.