The prevalence of titty in day to day American life has been on the wane since the Great Arizona Titty Fair And Chili Cook Off of 1996. Finger pointers wasted lots of Sunday Morning television air time pointing fingers at Cuba. In the 1999 Bestseller When Titty Was Tops, a transcript of Barbara Ehrenreich's graduation address to the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts left Gore Vidal's September, 1989 Atlantic Monthly satirical feature "George Bush And The School For Advanced Meteorology" largely in tatters, but conspicuously avoided the topic of Titty like it was plague. Was it cynicism or was it glee?
Who killed Titty?
Well today, we're going to stop looking to Congress for free lunch or at least coupons. If we want our field of vision to once again be saturated with enough titty to make us feel a little claustrophobic and wondering where that odor's coming from, we're gonna have to start at our own doorsteps. Knock on your neighbor's door and introduce yourself. Over the course of the afternoon, you and your neighbor will drink each other stupid with red wine and that's when you suggest that maybe the neighborhood could do with a little more titty here and there. I'll be damned if he or she doesn't grab your shoulders and say, "You might have a point, but who do I write to?" When you both wake up from your nap, one of you will ask "We didn't...did we?" A pair of naked and freckled shrugged shoulders will tell you you might have just gotten laid but you were too drunk to enjoy it.
All that aside, what do you say we celebrate More Titty Day by bashing in some fucking skulls? Who's with me?
