Posts Tagged ‘boobs’

Ed. Note- Thanks to Shelley Holmgren for submitting this with the very apt headline, Shit Bitches Shouldn’t Wear At A Baseball Game. We at Cad T. Wasp notoriously hate pink jerseys (that aren’t for breast cancer awareness), but Shelley details proper female fan wear etiquette in more detail.

by: Shelley Holmgren

Baseball season is a sacred, holy time. I choose to observe it with the holiest of rituals: drinking excessively and going to ball games. However, there are times when I have to swig my drink ferociously in order to stomach some of the shit I see women wear to a game.

As a (mostly) logical woman and faithful baseball fan, I decided to educate other estrogen-prone creatures of ways they shouldn’t show up to a game or face the wrath of my stink eye.

1) Save the stilettos for your walk of shame, sister.

It blows my mind that I actually have to say this. Ladies. Don’t wear your damn heels to the game.

If you are like me, you plan on ingesting a fair amount (understatement) of ale while cheering on your guys. After that fourth beer, that flight of stairs will look more like Mt. Doom than a few short steps. You definitely don’t want to scale it wearing four-inch heels/devices of torture.

Although drinking several vodka lemonades will help you loose all sensation in your face, you will need a horse tranquilizer to numb the pain in your feet from wearing heels for nine innings.

I’m not saying don’t be feminine. You may be attending the game on a date and might want to get your male seduction on. Fight the urge to
wear a leather catsuit (save them for special occasions, like bar mitzvahs) or a ball gown or whatever ridiculous outfit you wear to prepare for a sexy time. My advice – just go casual. The best route to go is fitted player t-shirt and a pair of tight jeans that make your ass look like Beyonce’s. The jeans will do all the work for you and your date will reward you with various forms of physical contact and cheap beer. Let the romance begin.

2) Handle cleavage with care.

Don’t get me wrong – as a well-endowed woman, I know how much joy there is in displaying your assets like prized hams. Boobs are magnificent and should be shared. But know your limits when it comes to breast exposure at sporting events. I’m at the game to watch my guys kick ass, not to place bets on the probability of one your loose mammary glands slapping your date in the face.

But then again, what do I know? I’m just a girl that likes to whip out her sweater melons only for special occasions or when I owe a member of the male population an apology/money. If you want to wear an insanely low-cut shirt, have at it. Make sure to wave to your parents (and the parents of the young niños in the crowd) when you are featured on the jumbo screen. You’ll make them so proud. I’ll just be the woman sitting next to you, embarrassed to have ovaries.

This is a ball game. Not an audition for Bravo.

3) Remember, people spill shit.

Don’t show up wearing a 80-billion-thread-count silky blousey-thing and not expect it to get it stained. If Alexei Ramírez steals third, you will likely be sitting by someone who celebrates with a dance similar to an exorcism being performed. You’re not going to want to be wearing expensive threads when someone knocks into you and obliterates you with concessions. And trust me, that shit ain’t going to come out.

Also remember: If you are a true classy woman like I am, you plan on making sweet, tender love to a fully-loaded ball park brat with your mouth. There is no way to consume delicious smoked meats without there being some wardrobe casualties. It’s not worth it otherwise.

4) Know your player.

If I show up in a Sox game clad in my Pierzynski jersey, I’m going to be able to tell you his position, his stats, his batting preference, his sexual preference (OK, maybe too far … probably … nah). Regardless of A.J.’s impending restraining order against me, he is my guy. Don’t show up to a game wearing a jersey for a player you know nothing about. Show some respect, yo.

5) Respect the game.

This is just a nugget of general knowledge – don’t be on your damn smart phone the whole time. Going to a game is a sacred act. If I see you playing DrawSomething through a double-play, I will slap the phone out of your hand. Probably. If I didn’t cherish my beer so much, I’d possibly try to spill my drink on you at least. (I swear, I’m usually not a belligerent drunk.)

And one last piece of fashion advice: You will never be taken as a serious fan, let alone a serious human being, if you wear a tube top.

Have some self-respect.

Ed. Note - I uhh, respectfully disagree. More tube tops at ball games!

By: Raul Parra
Twitter: ParraPalliative

You stand up and head over to the dart board.  You see her.  Purple top, tight jeans and stupid Zooey Deschanel glasses.  Immediately you begin to ask your self why chicks think guys want to bang Rivers Coumo from Weezer?

I'm the New Girl!

Back down to the jeans… you get over the glasses.

Should you approach?

Should you try one of your Pick Up Artist Techniques that you learned from the TV?  Let’s see, there was something about insulting her best qualities, peacock my values in her face… then we bang like weird monkeys at 3AM in the parking lot of White Castle, AFTER she gets me the double chee meal.  Also, the creepy chicken rings with the powder ranch on them.

Before you notice what you’re doing, you’re walking toward her.  The sounds of Rob Bass echos out of the juke box and into the very fillings of your teeth.  This is it.  This is your movie scene where you say something witty and cute:

You slur, “WAN eh beard.. I meaan a beer?”
“What?” she says, puzzled.
“Yoo wand a beer?”
“Sure, I’d love one.”
“What do pretty girls like?”
“Surprise me!”

You carefully turn around, making sure not to fall over. You neatly make your way to the bar.  However, the panic has already sunk it’s teeth into your neck.  Surprise me?  Surprise me?!  What does that mean?  IPA?  Amber Ale?  Miller Lite?  Guinness?

I’m your friend out here pilgrim, so relax my well inebriated friend.  I’m here to help.  I know what you want.   You want to appear to be different.  You want the beer to do the talking for you.  Impress her.  Help you break the ice.  You want your beer to be suave and sophisticated, yet relaxed and non-rapist like.  Most importantly,  you don’t want your beer to be boring!  Below are five beers that maybe you have never heard of that will delight and impress your muse.


Lips of Faith Series – Cocoa Mole

Taste: If you are Hispanic I’ll explain it like this,  It tastes like Abuelita’s recipe for spicy mole.  If not, imagine a chocolatey ale lightly seasoned with chile peppers then topped with a tad of cinnamon.  This beer screams summer!  Perfect for a beer garden experience that you will never forget.  Not too heavy, not too spicy, not too sweet… pretty much New Belgium hit the nail on the head with this one!

Stats: Brewed By New Belgium,  9.00% ABV, Chile Beer

Headwaters Pale Ale

Taste:  We were drinking this during the latest episode of our podcast and it’s what I like to call a work horse beer.  You can literally have this every day and never get sick of it.  Deep in Color. Crisp. Light. Little bit of grapefruit and nice and hoppy.

Stats: Brewed by Victory, 5.10% ABV, American Pale Ale.

Zombie Dust

Taste:  I went to the store.  Took out my credit card.  Bought a nice princess cut diamond ring.  Got back to the bar and tried to marry this beer.  She said maybe.  I adore this beer, nice orange body, hints of grapefruit and tobacco. Excellent.

Stats:  Brewed by Three Floyds, 6.20% ABV, American Pale Ale.

Rince Cochon

Taste: This machine is running clean.  Very carbonated.  Little Fruity.  Subtle Belgian style hops.

Stats: Brewed by Brouwerij, Roman N.V., 8.50% ABV, Belgian Strong Pale Ale.

120 Minute

Taste: This ain’t your daddy’s IPA, mainly cause your dad probably likes shit beer like Bud Light.  I absolutely love this beer.  However, you must respect it.  It packs a serious punch.  Malty, almost barely wine-ish.  Tons of hops. It’s a complex beauty.

Stats: Brewed by Dogfish Head Craft Brewery, 18% ABV, American Double/Imperial IPA