kybearfuzz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kybearfuzz) wrote2005-05-16 05:04 pm
kybearfuzz) wrote2005-05-16 05:04 pm
Beer Can Crushing Breasts
As I was watching Charmed last night, I saw the ad for the Steve Harvey's Big Time Challenge and the woman who would be smashing beer cans with her breasts. This caught my attention, not for the fact that it sounds horrifying, but because it sounded ... familiar. I actually stayed up and watched the show, seeing this woman crush a beer can with her enormous hooters, realizing that I have seen this woman do this live! She was going by Susan Sykes, but I know her better as "Busty Heart," an exotic dancer I saw at my one-and-only trip to a strip club. I looked up her website to make sure it was her. It was.
The Amazing Beer Can Crushing Boobs!
The year was 1995 and it was my first year working as a chemist after graduation. Busty was making an appearance at a strip club whose name I have long since forgotten. On the morning rock radio station, WEBN, she was claiming that she had the largest bust in America. One of my single straight guy friends, Greg, decided that he had to see them that night. So he grabbed me and another co-worker Mike, all of us single, to see this spectacle of sorts.
We arrived at the club and paid our cover charges and saw Busty's poster in lobby. She looked very beautiful, but her boobs were ENORMOUS and I mean that in a freak show sort of way. So we watched several dancers with glassy eyes and disinterested faces gyrate up and down the catwalk and poles. My buddies were enjoying the sights while I just grinned and wondered when the night would end. I was in the closet back then, so I was playing along with the fellas. There was one extremely beautiful woman in a purple bikini I recall. She got the most money from me, as she was extremely fit and actually looked lucid. She easily was the sexiest woman there, in my opinion. I must have been staring at her unlike any other man in the place, as she asked me if I was okay. I said I was fine, just grinned at her and slipped another five bucks in her garter.
Finally, the main event occurred. Busty came out, stripped to her g-string, and bounded her way around the catwalk. Needless to say, Busty's poster had been touched up as cellulite was not her friend. Even Greg, my woman-crazed buddy, was put off by her. Her chest was even larger in person. Her shtick was to put things under her breasts and release them, being held up only by the flopped boob over them. Among her props were real bowling balls and a large beer bottle (from which she would pour someone a beer). I was one of the privileged men who got to hold one of the bowling balls for her. She also took empty beer cans from the audience and smashed them with her breasts. She literally would just cradle the naked breast and slam it on top of the can, causing a total collapse of a perfectly good aluminum can. Grown men cringed, myself included. Her breasts must have been rock hard and completely fake.
The most memorable moment was when she walked across the catwalk, slipped in spilled beer and fell flat on her ass. I was amazed she wasn't crushed herself. When her show was over, you could have a private moment with her, getting a Polaroid shot of you with your head stuck between her hooters, for ten bucks. I decided to pass on that, although in retrospect it would have been a good pic to post on here as evidence of one of the strangest evenings of my life.
We left that night promising ourselves we would keep the evening to ourselves. The next day some of the girls asked us, curious of what this woman was really like. Seeing the comic value of the night, I broke the boys agreement and spilled everything. The guys forgave me and the girls thought it was hilarious.
The Amazing Beer Can Crushing Boobs!
The year was 1995 and it was my first year working as a chemist after graduation. Busty was making an appearance at a strip club whose name I have long since forgotten. On the morning rock radio station, WEBN, she was claiming that she had the largest bust in America. One of my single straight guy friends, Greg, decided that he had to see them that night. So he grabbed me and another co-worker Mike, all of us single, to see this spectacle of sorts.
We arrived at the club and paid our cover charges and saw Busty's poster in lobby. She looked very beautiful, but her boobs were ENORMOUS and I mean that in a freak show sort of way. So we watched several dancers with glassy eyes and disinterested faces gyrate up and down the catwalk and poles. My buddies were enjoying the sights while I just grinned and wondered when the night would end. I was in the closet back then, so I was playing along with the fellas. There was one extremely beautiful woman in a purple bikini I recall. She got the most money from me, as she was extremely fit and actually looked lucid. She easily was the sexiest woman there, in my opinion. I must have been staring at her unlike any other man in the place, as she asked me if I was okay. I said I was fine, just grinned at her and slipped another five bucks in her garter.
Finally, the main event occurred. Busty came out, stripped to her g-string, and bounded her way around the catwalk. Needless to say, Busty's poster had been touched up as cellulite was not her friend. Even Greg, my woman-crazed buddy, was put off by her. Her chest was even larger in person. Her shtick was to put things under her breasts and release them, being held up only by the flopped boob over them. Among her props were real bowling balls and a large beer bottle (from which she would pour someone a beer). I was one of the privileged men who got to hold one of the bowling balls for her. She also took empty beer cans from the audience and smashed them with her breasts. She literally would just cradle the naked breast and slam it on top of the can, causing a total collapse of a perfectly good aluminum can. Grown men cringed, myself included. Her breasts must have been rock hard and completely fake.
The most memorable moment was when she walked across the catwalk, slipped in spilled beer and fell flat on her ass. I was amazed she wasn't crushed herself. When her show was over, you could have a private moment with her, getting a Polaroid shot of you with your head stuck between her hooters, for ten bucks. I decided to pass on that, although in retrospect it would have been a good pic to post on here as evidence of one of the strangest evenings of my life.
We left that night promising ourselves we would keep the evening to ourselves. The next day some of the girls asked us, curious of what this woman was really like. Seeing the comic value of the night, I broke the boys agreement and spilled everything. The guys forgave me and the girls thought it was hilarious.
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Too bad. That would have made a great icon.
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Glad it wasn't me that experienced it. LOL.
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That's nothing. I can do that too. Hah. :)
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But I'll say nothing.
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Or something like that... I think...
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I'm envisioning Japanese people running screaming from them.
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ick ick ick
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