Vertago

What makes a memory ?

  I recently spoke with my big brother .
  He said that he was sent to Vietnam to fight
  communist expansionism." "And to protect the largest
  supplier of rubber. So you fought for rubbers too?"
  I quipted.

  My big brother thinks I'm lying about my family
  memories . Honestly, would I be this screwed up
  if I was? But, I believe memories are what makes
  us .. Oy. The bizzar events now are comical ..

  I don't think I told this one before. But, my
  sister's were obsessed with their breasts.
  I could hear them fighting in their bedroom.
  I was down stairs and ran the two flights up to
  their door. They were wrestling topless in their
  panties.

  The first place my eyes went to their breast.
  My next view was their hair pulling. There was
  also a musky sent, like a skunk. My first impression
  was that my sister's breasts were like mine.
  I have a hollow in my chest that makes my pecks
  more like breasts.

  I like breasts, but I focus more on the hooch.
  It reminds me of a clam's lips.. Yummy.
  I tried to be discrete when I glance at a lady's
  clam. But, I have big eyes. Both my sister's
  spotted my gaze and ran at me. I escaped with a
  door slam on my butt.

  Cathleen told me later that the fight had started
  when they were comparing their breasts.
  My oldest sister Maura had one breast smaller than
  the other, while Cathleen still had not developed
  any cleavage. Cathy asked me to feel her breasts
  and judge them.. I told her mine were bigger.
  She slapped me and I ran crying to mom. I was
  in 2 grade. Mom told me never to insult a woman.
  Both her breasts were removed and I was bottle fed.
  Maybe, that's why I'm not a breast man?

  Memories are important and I am honestly recalling
  them. Maybe, this is helpfull.

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