There seem to be an awful (and by awful I mean WOWEE) lot of sweaters on chicks here in downtown Dallas for 85 degree weather. And I sure as hell am not complaining. I loves me some sweater meat.

Okay, any ideas on why chi-chis look so much better wrapped in tight knit wool than say, a wet T-shirt? Because there really aren’t a lot of women that can carry a wet T-shirt properly (about the same as the number of men who can get away with a Speedo) but I’ll be damned if a sweater doesn’t turn any chick under 190 lbs into one of those Magic Eye posters.


  1. guy in the UNLV jacket says:

    I’ll tkae a wet tshirt anyday

  2. […] Got up this morning, showered, put on a polo shirt. Looked at the thermometer and realized outside it was 44 degrees. Put on a long sleeved shirt. You know what this means? No, not time for sweaters. Time to put up the Kel-Tec and break out the Glock. […]

  3. R says:

    Because you happen to like cute/lovely women over smoking hot bizombs? (Not that you don’t like your regular blond bimbo boobjob, but your preference…)

  4. Phelps says:

    No, I like them both, it is just that there are very, very few bizombs, but there are a whole lot of cuties. And a cutie starts to smoke in a sweater.

  5. Jenn says:

    That is EXACTLY why I can’t wait for winter. I get to wear sweaters! Hoodies!

    Yay. My friends hate it. No more tank tops.

  6. Phelps says:

    Another reason to love sweaters — they cover up doodles.

  7. Jenn says:

    Doodles? Is that a fat joke?

  8. Phelps says:

    No, it is a tat joke.

  9. Jenn says:

    You love it.