BOOB ALERT!

 you know, sometimes i say to myself, “self, can this country become any stupider?” and then i’m smacked in the face with something like this and reply, “yes. yes it can.”

and boy, howdy. apparently, british women need to be told to breastfeed their children. so much so that the NHS has got these spanking-hot posters to remind women that their breasts are for treats AND eats.

“Breastfeeding is cool as well as healthy, according to the message behind an exhibition that opens in London this week.” well thanks, Independent! all this time, here I was sitting around thinking that these two ol’ bin bags were just for the nightly “show and tell” sessions i have with the mister.

lord jesus mercy. you mean that women have to be TOLD to breastfeed their children in this country?! did they not wonder this whole time what that white liquid was coming out mt. vesuvius and mt. st helen? because call me mental but unless the word ESCOBAR is involved, i’m pretty sure that’s milk we’re talking about here. also, how LAZY do you have to be to prefer to bottleup your kid with formula/milk that you have to pay for when the holy spirit is giving it to you for FREE? oh, the questions. it’s amazing my brain doesn’t explode under strain of it all.

and these posters – what the hell is that all about? would i be so exasperated if they weren’t so stultifyingly moronic? ’tis a riddle for the ages. here’s a good idea: let’s show women’s top three concerns, boozing, bras and men, and reassure them that breastfeeding wont upset them any further. innit.

how about you all get bent instead.

i especially like the very responsible message of the drinking poster: hey moms! with all the £££ you’ll be saving on baby formula, you’ll be able to spend it getting SHITFACED on margaritas, ready to spend quality time with your newborn joy. RESPONSIBLE!

i also enjoy the vacuous overtones of the designer bra one. lemme get this straight: you just gave birth; you have a new life to take of; your ankles are still the size of the hoover dam and your stomach looks like a play-doh experiment; your entire home, nay, life, are now covered in diapers, talcum powder and hourly night feedings.

GETTING YOUR NASTY SHE-BEAST NAILS ON A DESIGNER BREASTFEEDING BRA ISN’T YOUR BIGGEST PROBLEM RIGHT NOW!

and let’s not think too much about the final magnum opus poster with baby and daddy coppin’ a feel. oughta way to get them started young. again, let us picture the scene: your body has just gone through the most traumatic experience it will ever have to endure, save maybe for an evening of entertainment involving the words “anal” and “probe”. concerned about what your man thinks about your boobage? DON’T BE. hell, he’s probably never seen that cup size filled out without squeaking plastic involved.  need to bond with your man? looks like you already did a pretty good job of that.  he doesn’t like the look of your new ready-to-feed breasts? NOT HIS PROBLEM.

and one last note. my man? since when did all mothers magically require/want there to be a man in the picture?

it’s a rare and talented poster that manages to be both offensively stupid and stupidly offensive. GO TEAM!