Only about 20 minutes from Charleston is the quaint barrier island of Isle of Palms, the home of the fabled Budweiser Bikini Bash at the Windjammer. All the elements were there for a good time. Sand, surf and fat girls with butt hats! For those not in the know, butt hats are what most others call tramp stamps. Again, it is just another more appropriate name for the tattoo that rests above a girl's (and gay man's) ass crack. This place had the best of all worlds to offer. I was able to witness two great spectacles that made that 20 minute trip well worth it.
First up, this lovely blonde trash can pictured above. With no name given, all I have to go with is Contestant #2. She had her work cut out for her considering that Contestant #1 had it going on! Not that this bitch isn't pretty in her own right but Contestant #1 had the grapefruit titties, a toned stomach and booty to boot! After Contestant #2 a.k.a My Daddy Don't Love Me Nuff finished tossing her dignity into the ocean by spreading her candy counter out in front of a sea of sausage, she lost. Not only did she lose but she stormed off the stage in tears, cussing and carrying on like some grand injustice had just occurred. It's not as if it was like Bush v. Gore or anything. It was a titty tournament for fuck sake! The next southern belle to leave a lasting impression also incorporated her breast. Only this time, it was a deliciously fat redneck woman breast feeding her baby in the middle of the bar. What in the hot hell is wrong with people? I want to know at what point did this dumb bitch say to herself that taking her infant into a loud and crowded bar was a good idea. Perhaps it would have been excusable had she taken it elsewhere, like a barn. It was quite the sight to say the least. She had developed an audience of shocked onlookers but only one man had the chutzpah to say something to her. Well, that lactating rhinoceros did not like that one bit. Further proving herself to be a great mother, she chased him out of the bar and threw her drink in his face.
That experience has left me feeling that this summer is about the 3 T's: Titties, Tantrums & Tears.
