Dude. Fucking stop that. It's not flattering. I don't giggle. I get scared. Because someone who makes sexual comments to a stranger is obviously not playing with a full deck, and I don't know whether you want to ask me out or rape me or make a lampshade out of my ample ass.
Which, by the way WAS, in fact, shakin'. I'm fat. Fat jiggles. And even if it didn't, I have every right to make it jiggle without being made to feel like an exhibit in the porn zoo.
Is there a porn zoo? There should be.
There. I've solved the problem. Porn zoos. Enclosures where people come for the sole purpose of being ogled and cat-called. Where we can press our asses to the glass just like the chimps, and you can snap pictures, high-five your bros, and post facebook updates about the hot-ass specimen in the "tramp" enclosure who jiggled her titties just for you.
Yes, that's the answer. Take your creepy cat calls to the porn zoo, where they belong.
Then women wouldn't have to be skeeved out by your weird behavior at the fucking grocery store. Douche bag.
I live in a small town. It's entirely possible that this asshole is someone I know, and if not, it's likely that we know the same people. If you know a tall, bearded butthole with a ponytail down his back, tell him to keep it in his pants. Or go to the porn zoo, and beat his chest with the rest of the gorillas.
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