Now, Tenpole Tudor did a song about ’em, and their catchphrase is ’ello boys.
Yes, we’re talking Wonderbra!
Exactly how I got educated on the aforementioned bap hangers, I can’t quite recall, due to vast quantitties of Aspall & Magners. Oh yes, it was an innocuous remark about ’seeing to the boys’ that let to a Sid James/Finbarr Saunders event, whereupon I became privvy to closely guarded Lady Secrets regarding these mammary matresses.
Boys take note: A wonderbra is not the most effective of romantic gifts. For I have learned that the wearing of this item of apparel causes much distress to ladies in this dress. Or that dress. Or any old dress. Or no dress at all. In fact, any situation where a wonderbra might be worn.
It would appear that although the garment squishes the golden globes up to look like some giant arsecrack, it causes problems when trying to move about, for the busoms are delicately perched on their supportive bower. Anything more than a slow, stately walk, and they start to quiver. At a normal pacing, the effect is like having a pair of jellies wobbling about.
Mmmmmm... raspberry jelly....
Anyhoo, although this may be pleasing upon the eye, it’s most discomforting having unstable ladylumps, and panicking about them flopping out all over the place and having to hoik them back into place every five minutes. Hence ’wonderbra’, ie ladies wonder how the hell this classes as a bra, and not a impractical item dreamed up by blokes to see bigger bazookas.
I always wondered what a wonderbra trifle was... now I know. It’s because of a certain type of creamy custard that’s squirted on top at the culmination of an act of mammarial lovin’.
I dread to think what the hundreds and thousands are made up of - not to mention the sponge fingers!
So boys - be wary about buying your beloved bras* - for she may be all smiles and "awww, how romantic" and stuff, but inside she’s really seething at the discomfiture and the pervosity of men.
Seems best to stick to a thong (not literally, coz that’s waaaay too pervy!), as these young maidens seem intent on flaunting theirs all over the shop. So much so, you could crouch alongside and fire an arrow using the bungee properties of said undergarments. A sort of crotchal catapult, if you will.
Would brighten up Robyn Hoode and the task of the Golden Arrow, if Lady Marion had to hoist her petticoats so he could shoot his load through her thong, splitting the arrow in the process (which sounds quite similar to Splitting The Bamboo, which is an oriental term for the old hump time).
Or so I’m led to believe...
* NOT BELOVED BRAS, AS IN BRAS YOU LOVE, BUT BRAS FOR YOUR BELOVED, IE THE LOVELY LADY IN YOUR LIFE. IF YOU HAVE A LOVELY LADY THAT IS. IF YOU’RE A TRANSVESTITE TRYING OUT THE WONDERBRA, THEN FEEL FREE TO BUY MAMMARY MOULDS AND MAKE A PAIR OF HOOTERS OUT OF JELLY TO FILL OUT YOUR FLACCID CUPS. YOU CAN ALWAYS SCOFF IT LATER (OR GET SOMEONE TO CHUCK THEIR MUCK ALL OVER IT TO MAKE A TRIFLE. EWWWW).
XYMON - YOU ARE WRONG. SO VERY, VERY WRONG!!!
