Well, crap on a cracker...

Here's something fun: Rediscovering the reason why I stopped wearing a particular shirt. Here is something not so fun: The actual reason.

You know, I thought I'd shake things up a bit, breathe a little spice into my life if you will, and wear something that has been hanging untouched in my closet for like two years. I mean, after two years of not wearing something, it automatically becomes new again, right?

So imagine my surprise when after a couple of hours, and then like repeatedly clockwork-ish, the shirt reminded me why it has been languishing on a hanger for so long.

Yep, my boobies just needed a breath of fresh air. Rousing game of Peek-a-Boob, anyone?

The shirt is one of those stretchy types that make one think they can wear a medium when one clearly cannot. So in my defense, if I wasn't so hefty in the chesty, I wouldn't have had this problem.

Blast.

Alrighty, so the shirt is relegated to the back of the closet once again. Until the next time I forget.