Voilà … Weatherboobs!

Tell the weatherman to stick it in a windsock.

“Why?” you ask.

Why not.

“What did he do?”

He can’t forecast the weather for shit—that’s what.

Alas, not to worry.

With apologies to Bob Dylan: You don’t need a weatherman to tell you how the wind blows.

Nipples are way more sensitive than Doppler radar.

So all you need to get your own, completely accurate and up-to-date weather reports, are … boobs.

They can be yours, or someone else’s.

First bare them, then take them outside.

And, voilà … weatherboobs!

From now on, the weather will be easy:

If the boobs are dry … it’s not raining.

You can just smile, wave to the neighbors, and go back inside (if you want).

If the boobs are wet … it’s raining.

Or they’ve begun to perspire. Either way, they’re lovely.

If the boobs cast a shadow … the sun is shining.

Any reddening would also tend to confirm the sun exposure.

If the boobs are swinging … the wind is blowing.

Or they’re enjoying the fresh air so much, they’re dancing.

If the boobs do not cast a shadow and are not wet … it’s cloudy.

But they’re still out cheering everybody up, so no one is gloomy.

If the boobs are bouncing up and down … there is an earthquake.

Or, someone’s jumping on the trampoline again, and those things are going crazy.

If the boobs are covered with ice … there is frost.

Does anyone need glass cut?

If the boobs are not visible … it’s foggy.

Or maybe someone’s hands are on them.

If the boobs are white … it’s snowing.

At least, that’s one thing it could be.

If the boobs are underwater … there is a flood.

Those happen sometimes. And it’s not always a bad thing.

If the boobs are spinning round and round … there is a tornado.

Or someone has returned to the stripper pole.

Can’t say I’m surprised.

And if one is unable … or oddly, disinclined … to subject their tatas to the great outdoors … there’s always weathercock.

It works exactly the same way … you just stick your cock out there.

But keep an eye on him.

You don’t want your rooster wandering off (think of all the poor hens).

Ask any woman … it’s best to keep a pecker on short leash.

-Harlowe Pilgrim

Copyright 2014 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC

This piece appears in the ebook Harlowe Pilgrim's Oh My Words! 2014.

Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,    Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.

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