See, this is why when I need to feed my fetish for ginormous breasts, I almost always stick to anime porn. Because 1) ginormous tits in the real world are almost always veiny, disgusting boulders and 2) the chicks they’re attached to are no great shakes either.

Y’know how in Escape from LA, where they made Bruce Campbell up as this kind of freak of plastic surgery, but left him just realistic enough that you could believe someone actually did that to themselves? Yeah, she looks like that. So do most of her massive mammary companions.

I mean, her lips don’t even look like they’re really attached to her body. It looks like she got up and stuck those on there with spirit gum.

anything over a d cup maybe dd for fake tits starts to look ridiculous for me.  Natural breasts bigger than that can be fine depending on the body of the girl they’re on.  That’s just completely freaky.

Okay, time for a little insight to my life, I guess. (As if anyone asked for it.)
Before my family-man days, I had something of a reputation… and I don’t mean a very good one. I had earned the nickname “The Great Ick”. I even had phrases named after me. Friends used the terms ”getting icked”, ”ick stick” and ”the Icky shuffle” on a regular basis.
(One time I actually overheard a complete stranger use the term “getting icked” at a local bar. That was awesome.)
As my best friend’s last name was Scacci (Pronounced “scatchy"), and the Simpsons was then at it’s peak of popularity, we quickly became known as “Icky and Scacci”.

What earned me that name was my reputation for complete, unabashed and unashamed chasing (and often catching, far beyond my station) anything with a nice set of sweater stuffers.

My greatest accomplishment, to that date, was Danielle.

An exotic dancer by trade, Danielle was easily one of the most stunningly gorgeous women I’ve ever seen.
Short cropped jet-black hair, full, soft lips and a body that could not only stop traffic… it could stop air traffic.
Remember the teenage super-hotness of Angelina Jolie in “Hackers”?
Yeah, like that. But a little taller, a little thinner, and much, much nicer puppies. (pierced, of course.)

We dated for a few months. (translation: we screwed like rabbits on viagra and rarely actually spoke about anything but sex.)
Eventually, we drifted apart. This had just a little to do with the fact that she wanted to start doing hardcore porn, and was already “reciting her lines” with a friend of mine.

About three months later, I see her at the local mall. I almost didn’t recognize her, as she seemed to have… changed, somehow.
At first I thought she was holding something large and cumbersome around. (It was Christmas time, after all.) Could she have bought a loved one two exercise balls? If so, why was she trying to hide them under her tee shirt?

Turns out she had, in an effort to “bolster” her “career”, gotten the largest set of implants I’ve ever seen in real life. (And I was a huge fan of strip clubs, so that’s sayin’ somethin’.)
HHH cups, apparently. (what I learned from my friend, later.) (Yes, the same friend she was playing ‘Snake in a drain’ with.) She could easily have been in the gallery with those girls, above. Easily.

What she had become was almost comical. I followed her around the mall for a while, just staring, and grinning.
When she made her way to the exit, and had to turn sideways to be able to reach the door handle past her twin suns, I almost lost it. I seriously had to stifle a bout of raucous laughter so she didn’t notice me.

My point is, even at the stage of my life when I was most like Larry from Three’s Company, or Dan Fielding from Night Court, (people have actually made that particular comparison.) I still found that image appealing to nothing more than my sense of humor.

After all… I draw cartoons. I don’t fuck ‘em.
And that’s really all these women have strived to become, IMO.

Chelsea looks photoshopped...doesn’t she?

But, I’ll be damned!

heh, she was born in the “Twin Cities”.

You know, cause it rhymes with “Twin...oh, nevermind.