Tit Monday

Liffeyman

PURE GENIUS!

Ah, Tit Monday. It's not that far off now, that glorious day when,
heading
into work on the bus, or walking to the Dart, or sitting on the Luas,
you
find yourself suddenly chirpier than you have been in months. You find

yourself smiling at strangers again. There is a mild involuntary
tumescence
in your trousers that comes and goes throughout the morning with the
comforting regularity of a heartbeat.
And then you get a text around lunchtime from a mate which says: "At
last,
Tit Monday!" And you instantly understand why you are so happy. For
Tit
Monday is that special day in the year when, for the first time, the temperature rises above that magical point which causes girls getting
dressed in the morning to decide to show a bit of skin.

After months of dull colours and chunky knit, the world's birds
suddenly
dive into last summer's wardrobe (they've not had chance to buy this
season's stuff) and chuck it on without a thought. Your urban
landscape
is
suddenly lightened with acres of naked arm and leg and, after many
dark
months of burrowing, breasts rising to the surface like moles at dusk.

Big breasts in white work shirts straining at the buttons. Small
breasts
braless in vest tops, the nipples frotted by ribby fabrics. Breasts in

summer dresses bouncing in the distance so that they catch your eye
before
you even notice there is someone wearing them. Breasts nudging out
from
the
crowd at traffic islands, quivering to cross the road...
And you know it is nearly summer. For previous generations, the
arrival
of
spring was heralded by the sound of the first cuckoo. For us, it is
Tit
Monday.

Not that it always falls on a Monday. Like Easter, Tit Monday is a
moveable
feast. Last year it fell on a Friday. Friday 29 April, to be precise,
when
temperatures maxed out at 22.1C after nothing much above 16C all year.
It
last fell on a Monday in 2004, when temperatures leapt to 22C on 24
April.

And then, of course, there is Tit Monday Night. You see, in early
summer,
temperatures drop off very dramatically when night falls (Tit Friday
2005
dropped away to a parky 11.8C). But the dollies are not prepared.
Slightly
stunned by the morning heat, they drag out the summer clothes but
forget
to
bring a cardie (a mistake they will not make again until next year),
so
that
when they're all standing outside your local after work celebrating
the
arrival of spring, their barely covered nipples have no protection
from
the
cold. It's like a Bring-and-Buy sale where everyone has brought hat
pegs.
It's like a prog-rock gig where, instead of lighters, everyone is
holding
up
nipples.

So when will Tit Monday fall this year? Will you be the first to text
your
mates with the announcement? Do not shoot your bolt too early. There
will
be
false starts. You will smell fresh cut grass and see a couple of early

starters and feel compelled to declare Tit Monday. But your more
level-headed friends will tell you to hold your horses, keep your
powder
dry, don't fire until you see the whites of their bra straps

As the poet said: one bold slapper in a bikini doth not a summer make.

danniemcq

wow ffwds on boards! brilliant i can't gey enough of them

Liffeyman

?

Capt'n Midnight

Liffeyman wrote:

PURE GENIUS!

Ah, Tit Monday. It's not that far off now, that glorious day when, heading
into work on the bus, or walking to the Dart, or sitting on the Luas,you
find yourself suddenly chirpier than you have been in months. You find
yourself smiling at strangers again. There is a mild involuntary tumescence
in your trousers that comes and goes throughout the morning with the
comforting regularity of a heartbeat.
And then you get a text around lunchtime from a mate which says: "At last,
Tit Monday!" And you instantly understand why you are so happy. For Tit
Monday is that special day in the year when, for the first time, the temperature rises above that magical point which causes girls getting
dressed in the morning to decide to show a bit of skin.

After months of dull colours and chunky knit, the world's birds suddenly
dive into last summer's wardrobe (they've not had chance to buy this
season's stuff) and chuck it on without a thought. Your urban landscape is
suddenly lightened with acres of naked arm and leg and, after many dark
months of burrowing, breasts rising to the surface like moles at dusk.

Big breasts in white work shirts straining at the buttons. Small breasts
braless in vest tops, the nipples frotted by ribby fabrics. Breasts in
summer dresses bouncing in the distance so that they catch your eye before
you even notice there is someone wearing them. Breasts nudging out from the
crowd at traffic islands, quivering to cross the road...
And you know it is nearly summer. For previous generations, the arrival of
spring was heralded by the sound of the first cuckoo. For us, it is Tit
Monday.

Not that it always falls on a Monday. Like Easter, Tit Monday is a moveable
feast. Last year it fell on a Friday. Friday 29 April, to be precise, when
temperatures maxed out at 22.1C after nothing much above 16C all year.It
last fell on a Monday in 2004, when temperatures leapt to 22C on 24 April.

And then, of course, there is Tit Monday Night. You see, in early summer,
temperatures drop off very dramatically when night falls (Tit Friday 2005
dropped away to a parky 11.8C). But the dollies are not prepared. Slightly
stunned by the morning heat, they drag out the summer clothes but forget to
bring a cardie (a mistake they will not make again until next year),so that
when they're all standing outside your local after work celebrating the
arrival of spring, their barely covered nipples have no protection from the
cold. It's like a Bring-and-Buy sale where everyone has brought hat pegs.
It's like a prog-rock gig where, instead of lighters, everyone is holding up
nipples.

So when will Tit Monday fall this year? Will you be the first to text your
mates with the announcement? Do not shoot your bolt too early. There will be
false starts. You will smell fresh cut grass and see a couple of early
starters and feel compelled to declare Tit Monday. But your more
level-headed friends will tell you to hold your horses, keep your powder
dry, don't fire until you see the whites of their bra straps

As the poet said: one bold slapper in a bikini doth not a summer make.

.

zAbbo

Liffeyman wrote:

?

if you're going to post up crap, try and make sure it's readable.

funk-you

You think tit monday is good, you dont want to be around on lad Thursday. Short shorts on fat men out cutting the grass and not noticing that they're dangling in the wind.

-Funk

Victor

funk-you wrote:

tit monday

Amusing.

lad Thursday.

Priceless.