Please, Nobody Say The Word “Jugs”: Introducing The Booze Bra

At last: all my social problems have been resolved. Gone, for me, are the days of shyness, the empty nights, the nagging sense that I and my lowly breasts do not have anything to offer the world. No – these days, I’m the most popular girl on campus, with a sparkle in my eye, a spring in my step, and a blood alcohol level that is always just high enough to keep me from operating heavy machinery. What brought on this miraculous change, you ask?
Why, it’s the Wine Rack, a bra stuffed with inflatable polyurethane cups to be filled with the liquor of one’s choice. To paraphrase the immortal Fergie, I’m going to get, get, get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump(s). And I now have a spigot on my chest designed specifically for that purpose.
To be sure, there are a few drawbacks to the booze bra. First, it’s one of those horrifying, matronly jogging bra contraptions, which really cuts down on the aesthetic appeal. Second, IT’S A BRA FILLED WITH LIQUOR, for God’s sake. Forgetting, for the moment, any feminist concerns about artificially inflating one’s breast size, this just seems tremendously impractical.
If you trip and bump into a bookcase, you’ll be left smelling of booze, with deflated tits and a soggy, distended, ugly-assed brassiere. Hot, no?
Although it may be marketed to the ladies, the Booze Bra was almost certainly invented by dudes – specifically, dudes who refer to each other as “bro” a lot, wear Axe body spray to attract the chicks, and have long-standing subscriptions to Maxim. It seems, fundamentally, like a dating aid for doucheburgers, something guys would use to simultaneously pump up a girl’s chest and break down her judgment.
The smarmy advertising copy on the website really puts the last nail into the coffin. “Just think,” they exclaim, “secretly guzzling from your gazongas means no more waiting in line and paying for overpriced drinks at festivals, gigs and games.” They also note the potential money-saving powers of the bra, noting that “[you won’t] be buying anything for yourself with a chest this impressive.”
Yeah, that’s right, guys: I’m carrying the equivalent of two large glasses of beer on my chest, with all the attendant weight and back strain, FOR ME. It’s all because I am just TOO DARN BROKE to buy my own nachos.
Sadly, due to its popularity on the Interwebs, the Wine Rack is currently all sold out. If you want to try it for yourself, you’ll have to pre-order it and wait nearly a month for delivery. How many of those bras do you think were purchased by girls looking to get drunk off their own lady bits? How many do you think were purchased by guys who hoped that their girlfriends might wear them?
Now: which answer makes you sadder?

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