Archive for the ‘Backtits’ Category
Ya, kinda takes the ole breath away, doesn’t it?
If yesterday’s chick was sporting a 32A backtit, then today’s chick is definitely the Chesty Morgan of the backtit circuit. The last time I saw that much hanging flesh in one place was about two years go in the window of Deitweiller’s Deli in Kitchener. Mind you, that was two baby calves hanging side by side.
Backtit Week is over, I’ve made myself sick.
I hope I’ve made you sick, too.
And so this concludes Backtits Week. Today’s picture isn’t the best/worst The Mayor has posted all week, but I think we can all agree that this picture may very well be the highlight of a lowlight week. What, you don’t agree? Than I suppose we will have ot agree to disagree? Pardon, you don’t agree to disagree? Are you telling me that you disagree to agree to disagree? I’m sorry, but I cannot agree to that. For if you disagree to agree to disagree, then I disagree to disagree to agree to disagree. And another thing, your mother wears army boots. Actually, it looks like she’s wearing long white boots. That ’splains a lot, doesn’t it?
Stick a couple bulging eyes on her back and you’d have the spitting image of Homer Simpson looking back at you.
The Mayor really enjoyed yesterday’s backtits comments. He liked the fact that everyone was thankful they only got to see the back end of the person of the picture and not the front side. I’m sure they are doubly happy today to not see the front side. Keep the comments coming, or I swear you’ll get the front side tomorrow and Saturday. Ya, that’s a threat.
And yes, there is going to be a Saturday backtits picture.
Only because I luvs you.
There is a lot more going on in this picture than what you see at first blush. This picture needs interpretation, and luckily for you, your Mayor is very sharp when it comes to personal identification when related to fat chicks with backtitties. In other words, I see what’s going on, yo.
We’ll start off with the makeshift do-rag. There is nothing overly peculiar about this, it is an urban expression of sorts. It says, “I have no job, no chance for employment, and it’s a great place to hide my weed from the po po.”
The sweaty shoulders? It aint from working. It’s a condition known in the inner cities as “terminal unemployment grease.” It’s what happens to the massively obese and unemployable after 10-15 years of sitting around doing nothing all day but smoking the weed, drinking the booze, and popping out the shorties to swell the ranks of their No Dad Cities.
The bra under the halter top, well, that’s actually a way of protesting the lack of midnight basketball courts for disadvantaged inner-city youths that are still reeling from the effects of colonialism in Africa. Yo go, Shaquandra, don’t let The Man® oppress you no mo!
As for the tight blue track pants? Well, that’s just plain sexy. M m m m m mmmmmm.
It’s just so big. It is so, so big. And The Mayor can’t make heads or tails of this picture, as the backtitties are tremendous, but the butt is actually the size of a regular humans.
I really thought I’d be able to make better comments about these pictures, but Backtits Week always seems to dummy The Mayor up for some reason. I suppose it’s the whole “picture is worth a thousand words” ting that’s going on. This picture though, it’s worth way more than a thousand words.
It seems nearly impossible to The Mayor that the last installment of Backtits Week was nearly a year ago. It also seems nearly impossible to The Mayor that he has had a steady supply of Backtits pictures filed away and ready for use ever since. What doesn’t seem nearly impossible to The Mayor is the affinity every last Mitchievillian has towards this segment.
Now, The Mayor wasn’t quite sure whether he was going to file this picture under Backtits Week, Buttchops Week, or You Crack Me Up Week, because, as you can clearly see, the woman in the picture fits quite nicely into any and all of the three categories. But here she is under Backtits Week, and The Mayor feels he made the right category choice. I suppose, when all is said and done, the Lord will judge me accordingly.
This is Thanksgiving Monday in Canada, and that’s the reason for the lack of posts today. Regular posting will resume tomorrow, and The Mayor promises you there is going to be a whole lot of goodness oozing out from this site for the next week. After that, all bets are off and the crap comes back full speed.
Now go and have a great week, and think of the picture above always.
I’m not so sure that’s a g-string the blot is wearing, I’m pretty sure it’s the worlds largest slingshot. Although this is by no means the largest Marge I have posted this week, I personally think this is the one that has sported the biggest backtits. If those were fronttits they would be extraordinary, but since they’re backtits they’re vomit inducing.
Oh, and that’s a real nice lunch choice she made — 500 ml Pepsi and some greasy fries. I know, I know, that has nothing to do with her weight, she has a thyroid problem.
Mercifully, this ends Backtit Week. I feel we are all a bit dumber for it.
I would say this is a nsfw picture, but I’m now pretty sure this is just a bunch of boulders stacked upon each other. There’s nothing unsafe about that.
At first I thought this was a picture of The Thing from the Fantastic Four, but now I’m thinking it might be The Blob. Or a blob. Either way, I’m not going to sleep a wink tonight.
Good news though, there’s only one more day of this nonsense.
I’ve finally figured out what’s happening in this picture — the woman on the right actually has her head twisted 180 degrees. It’s an Exorcist type of thing — you know, the power of Christ compels you.
When I was living in New Zealand a while back, I was in a grocery store and I saw this woman who had a three-layered neck. Her neck was actually tiered, like a DEVO hat. Her neck started out with a huge base, then a slightly smaller second tier, followed finally with a smaller, but not small, third tier. And then a tiny head attached to it.
Her neck could be scaled, if I had the right equipment at the time I would have put together a few climbers and ascended that bad bastard.
But I didn’t, and in retrospect I believe I made the right decision.
Backtit Week got off to an auspicious start yesterday, as quite a few of my constituents asked that I stop posting immediately, lose the Backtit Week, and concentrate on something else entirely. I hear what you folks are saying, but no, that aint gonna happen, yo.
This is a week of celebration, a week of conviviality, a week to sit back(tit) and appreciate the human form. Say, out of curiosity, how much water do you suppose the ocean loses when it gets trapped between that heifers legs?