Mad Atoms

Generally speaking, I like my boobs. They have served me well. They are on the small side and do not garner public attention, but in private they are appreciated. Boys wanna touch them, girls wanna have them. They are perky and little but have a well proportioned flesh to nipple ratio. I can wear shirts with no bra and do not have to worry about old lady saggy boobs. A perfect handful, a generous mouthful.

Some of my best girl friends have huge tits which torment them. They are constantly sneered at and cat called. Not to mention the back pain and industrial strength support bras needed which are basically granny panties for the boob region. No thank you! I have embraced my petite size and am quite comfortable being part of the small boobed babe brigade.

However, in the world of Hollywood, my breasts are viewed as tiny. Wee little mosquito bites. When I walk into auditions I am constantly blasted with fake titted actresses staring me in the face. Ugh! Yet again, I have forgotten to wear my wonder bra or chicken cutlets. And for those of you unacquainted with chicken cutlets, they are little rubber things that look like chicken breasts that girls stuff into their bras to be socially accepted by the male species and therefore feel better about themselves.

Somehow, no matter how hard I try to make myself bow down to the man and stuff my bra, I always seem to forget. On a personal level I am comfortable with my boobs but professionally I sometimes waiver. I have often wondered if I have lost jobs to my bustier competition.I am sure that I have. Afterall, its a man’s world and Hollywood is a big penis park. I hate to admit it, but every once in a while I get down on myself and wonder if I am missing out on some awesome secret that only big chested girls get to experience.

And then one day my breast perspective changed. I went to China and I suddenly had huge tits. Seriously. Compared to most Asian women, I may as well have been Dolly Parton. At first I was oblivious. I just thought that people were staring at me because I have red hair, am very pale and tall. But then as I followed their gaze I realized that men of all ages were checking out my rack. Unabashedly gawking at my boobs. As in mouth open, drooling, head swiveling staring. MY BOOBS?!

Never before had I gotten that kind of attention. It was hilarious. I was not offended, I was amazed. Wherever I went, teenagers to Grandpa’s checked out my goods. It took a few days for my brain to make the switch from being a small breasted lady to a voluptuous sex kitten, but then it felt kind of fun. Like a costume. A different persona.

I walked with a new swing in my step. I felt like Marilyn Monroe, tits and ass galore.

But as with all things, there is an end. I came back to Hollywood and have once again settled into my small breasted life. But now when I have insecure days I can just remember my Chinese fan base and appreciate my boobs no matter what continent I am on. So for all those small breasted babes out there, save yourself some money and pain, say no to the knife and consider a trip to the Far East.