Milk-Induced Coma: 300

"aka Holy Hell You Blab A Lot"

Once upon a time there was this girl who, well- she was more of a woman that a girl. She was late 20's with a house and a car and 2 kids and a step-daughter and a husband and a dog, a cat, a llama- well you get the gist. The girl/woman (giman? worl?)... We can call her The Milk Maid, decides to start a blog about her boobs. Well, not in the "hey look at my knockers" kind of way, but in the "I am fortifying my child with ninny-nectar; I shall share with everyone!" kind of way.

One day, The Milk Maid woke up and had comments on her blog. From real people! Ok, so we assume they are real people, because Milk Maid later talked to said commenters on the phone and droids usually do not pull off the Cali-girl accent.

Through the next year, The Milk Maid kept boobin' her kid while having all kinds of adventures and meeting new and exciting friends through her boob-log. Tall people, short people, people who talked funny, people who made her really self-conscious about her accent. Strait people, lesbian people, people who didn't care whether or not they had mayo or mustard or both on their sandwich! The Milk Maid got to be such great friends with lots of these people that she became less and less inhibited. She talked openly about sex and how much she had (and how much she still wanted to have, because quite frankly this Milk Maid character is a nympho or something).

Anywhos, one day the Bitch Shoes came out of Milk Maid's closet and lo and behold-- two of Milk Maid's very bestest friends ever popped out of the woodwork to laugh along with her as she scuffed up the floors of contentment. Everyone wanted more snark... it got to the point to where The Milk Maid started trying to edit Html code with stuff like this:

[begin snark]
I really love birds and sunshine. It makes my heart full of joy!
[end snark]

The Milk Maid made no bones about it- the boob-loggin' was her favorite activity! Where else could she go to release stress she had against her father, her mother, or just whine until B made her get her head out of her ass?... Or write one of her favorite posts ever (a tie with my ranting letter about dad, which you can see if you click "father").