Hello again, fiends of Miscellaneous Fitness Weights!
I might have posted on Christmas day, but the idea of it seemed
off-putting as I didn't have much uplifting "material" for all of my
favorite MFW manginas. But now I'm back, tormented as ever, with a
Valencunt's, er, I mean, Valentine's Day celebratory post!
Lucky you.
The last time I left you with a to-be-cuntinued, specifically with
Rhianna Lyn Brodin in mind. It was in the post titled "Halloween
Surprise", posted on Halloween. Here is the long-awaited cuntinuation
of this whorrible true-life story:
Oh, Rhianna. You are so beautiful. Your face, your neck, your
shoulders, your arms, your hands, your torso (and especially the
mammae glands hanging off your chest), your buttocks, your legs,
possibly even your feet, your dainty little feet.. You may be short
but you sure are a glorious, magnificent specimen of feminininity (she
DESERVES that extra syllable!). Ohhhhh h h h h h h h hhhh...
How unfortunate Rhianna is a pusillanimous*, petty, petulant,
vindictive person.
* It's near "pussy" in the dictionary.
It's interesting. There I am, working at my [anonymous] workplace,
adjacent to a bank, a state bank of a non-existent state (how odd). I
work there for years, some employees stay during those years, others
go.. to be replaced with a series of different people.. and one day,
when the bank is short.. the Big Boss Man of the Bank of a
Non-Existent State walks in, and while purchasing his products asks me
with a mischievous smile on his face, his big pop-out eyes popping out
even more with mirth, asks me what I want in a Woman. So I tell him,
spontaneously, somewhat facetiously I must admit: shorter than I, by
several inches, blonde, beautiful, with big boobs (I may have said
gazangas or some similar fun word, the exact word escapes me). He
beamed, as he always did, typical of successful businessmen...
About a week after that short conversation with "Mr. Pennies" (I once
asked him his name, he knew that I had seen his first and last name a
few times so gave me that self-proclaimed spiritual name, which will
be used hereonafter) I saw someone new enter my establishment. She was
blonde, significantly shorter than I, was definently beautiful.. with
big, beautiful breasts. Enter: Rhianna Lyn Brodin.
It didn't register. Only after a few days did I discover she was the
new bank-without-a-state employee. I didn't really assume that I was a
person of much importance in the microcosmic scheme of local
businesses. Such thoughts are dangerous, they can warp the
personality, create a dangerous feeling of entitlement, and the
concomitant resentments that follow.. but Mr. Pennies entered the
stage again, and asked, a few weeks into the Rhiannic Period (and it's
a bloody period at that, folks!): "So.. what do you think?" Again
with that big, beaming smile. I knew instantly what he meant. I let
the look on my face be the answer.. you see...
Rhianna Lyn Brodin initially entered the store with an air of
confidence and self-importance typical of The Beautiful Woman. She
wasn't just smug, though. Oftentimes she would wear a very large smirk
on her lovely face, her big, beautiful, vivacious eyes alive with
thoughts. It was a complement to her nice clothes and well-styled
hair. In fact, she smirked so much I worried that as she aged, it
would become stuck on her face, like other expressive lines that form
on the elderly, making her face permanently asymmetrical. Oh, I
worried for you, Rhianna, I did.
That was in the first quarter of 2005. This was also when Christina
the Kike began to work at my [anonymous] workplace. Rhianna is fond of
carbonated beverages.. I must at this time share with my MFW fiends
that I understand the very basic and very true concept that we are
what we eat. This is of course an easily conceivable literal Truth.
And from this, of course, we can also make a corollary: we eat what
we ARE. And Rhianna Lyn Brodin is very fond of imbibing the
ubiquitous, artificially colored, artificially flavored and
artificially sweetened, mildly poisenous excito-toxic swill of our
Vulgar American Culture.
She was very involved in her physical appearance. I won't say for
certain that she is self-absorbed, but she obviously takes great care
and spends much time with her appearance. She is very beautiful,
really the kind of woman who would be heart-poundingly beautiful at 6
a.m. with bedhead hair, no make-up and especially no clothes. Without
a doubt I would wake up, drop my head down to her big, beautiful eyes
and eagerly lick the eye boogers off her lacrimal holes. She wouldn't
even have to ask! I'd do it while she was still asleep, so she
wouldn't even have to bother! So she didn't *need* to be so involved
with her appearance.
There comes a time in a man's life when he can see an obvious
dichotomy, however crude, of the two major aspects of existence on the
human level: the physical and the mental/spiritual. The physical, or
external, qualities are easy to see, touch, feel; these qualities are
easily understood and made use of, both from within (the self) and
without ('dem bitches). The other side seems more open to appreciation
and interpretation, whose value is given more to an individual's
particular propensities. The mental, or internal qualities are
vaguer, intellectually abstract, more difficult to gauge and assess
the ultimate value of. It requires wisdom and intelligence to realize
their inherent value. But one thing eventually becomes clear: people
who have much strength in external qualities may slack off and neglect
to develop the important inner qualities. This can most easily be
understood with the inverse relationship of breast size to
intelligence in the female of our species. This of course is not
entirely their fault nor written in stone, as clearly there are women
with big bazoombas who also possess functional, even well-developed
intellects and intuitive faculties that match or even surpass the
magnificence of their mammaries.
I know what you're thinking and the answer to the inevitable question
is YES, I AM a "Breast Man." But, please, I am SO many other things as
well. Don't give me short shrift, sirs and madams, I assure you I AM a
multi-faceted personality!
It grows late and I grow tired at this time of night on Valencunt's
Day. I cannot go on. I have important news programs to attend to (and
now they have a full staff of writers). So I must cuntinue this post
later. It was important to post this on Valencunt's Day, which is why
I must post this now. Oh, Rhianna Lyn Brodin...
[to be cuntinued]
Valencunt's Day 
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