Ta-Ta Time

(Insert easy offended stop warning here…ok, proceed, brave ones…)

I miss October.

Oh, it’s not because the month contains one of my very favorite holidays, Halloween. (For horror writers everyday is kind of Halloween.) Or because of crisp apples, blazing orange pumpkins, the intoxicating scent of rotting leaves and trees fiery with color. Those things are great, but as we slip into dreary—in Maine anyway—November I long for October for another reason.

I miss October because it is ta-ta month. Yep, it’s that stimulating time when the gals of MySpace and the blogosphere implore everybody to feel their ta-tas. I’m down with that. And some of the brave and beautiful even say it with photos. Photos are goooooood. Really good.

Ta-tas. Even the word is fun to say. Ta-tas. They just roll off the tongue. Um, I mean it just rolls off the tongue.

I miss those glowing October ta-ta days. It’s one reason I’m studying so diligently for my freelance breast examiner license. Well, that and the fact that ta-tas rule. They do. Big and little, black and white, all are precious…er, never mind. Lost it there for a moment.

So I am proposing we extend ta-ta October through November (maybe longer. I can definitely see a year-long event coming on here…)

I think there’s a French slang for ta-tas: ninny or ninnie or something to that effect. So I’m thinking Ninny November. No c’mon you didn’t think I would call it Nipple November, did you? Y’all know I can’t say nipple on here.

There are ta-ta police, you know…