The Story of How My Boobs Caused a Traffic Jam

I recently went on a trip to California to see my boyfriend.

Generally, I like to wear less clothes for that drive because the sun is like, blazing hot, and my car has the worst air conditioning known to civilization.

So I'm doing my thing, driving in the car getting scorched in my low cut top and shorts, basically learning what a cooked lobster feels like.

And we get to those stupid lanes where you have to pull up and they look at you and judge you, and then let you go. Or not. Depends on who you are.

Here, I drew a diagram.

Shut up, drawing is hard.

Ok, so I'm in the lane that goes straight forward, the other lane splits into two. The car to my right was a big ass truck with a trailer.

Anyways, I realize I need my sunglasses, which are in my purse in the passenger seat. So I lean across, and get them. And as I look up, this guy is just gaping at me like he's never seen cleavage before. Both lanes in front of him are clear now mind you, and the guys in the booths are like, dude, what the hell.

So I give him this look:

I almost did this one:

But I was pretty tired.

Anyways, cars behind him started honking and shouting things that would make a sailor blush, and he turned scarlet and moved forward.

And I laughed, oh how I laughed.

And then I was sad cause I still had a long ass way to drive.

But that's the story of how my boobs stopped traffic.

(oYo)
Booblogger