Eavesdropped Conversation on “Save The Boobies.”

6474374_700b_v19th Grade Girl: What’s gross, what’s really gross, is some middle aged man wearing a “save second base” t-shirt. I hate that.  It’s just gross!

Her Father: What?  That’s like “Save the Boobies.”

Girl:  Ugg!  That’s offensive.

Father: It isn’t. It’s about breast cancer.

Girl:  Well, it’s offensive to the breast cancer patients.

Father: It gets attention, in hopes of convincing people to donate money to find a cure, and fund programs for early detection so maybe not as many people have to have mastectomies.

Father’s Friend: Or die.

Father:  (nods). Or die.

Girl: (to father’s friend, unconvinced).  Don’t you think it’s offensive?

Friend: Is that second base?  I don’t even know what second base is any more.  Hell, I don’t even play baseball any more.  I’m retired.  Like Barry Bonds.  Me and Barry Bonds are retired.

Father: So, you’ll be extending your career with performance enhancing drugs?

Friend: And risk losing all that time that I like to spend napping?  I’m out.

Father: Have you noticed that you never, ever see people wearing t-shirts about testicular cancer?

Friend: Save the balls just doesn’t have the same–panache as boobies.

Girl: Ugggghhhh!!!

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About JunkChuck

Native, Militant Westsylvanian (the first last best place), laborer, gardener, and literary hobbyist (if by literary you mean "hack"). I've had a bunch of different blogs, probably four, due to a recurring compulsion to start over. This incarnation owes to a desire to dredge up the best entries of the worst little book of hand-scrawled poems I could ever dream of writing, salvageable excerpts from fiction both in progress and long-abandoned. and a smattering of whatever the hell seems to fit at any particular moment. At first blush, I was here just to focus on old, terrible verse, but I reserve the right to include...anything. Maybe everything, certainly my love of pulp novels growing garlic, the Pittsburgh Steelers and howling at the moon--both figuratively and, on rare occasions, literally.
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