Anyone who has ever come within three feet of me or this blog knows that I hate winter. I’m not happy about it, but there’s nothing I can do about it, so I have learned to embrace it. However, that embrace is sort of like when you’re thirteen and one of your grandmother’s buxom friends decides that she wants, nay, NEEDS a hug upon meeting you. You’re not happy about it, but at some point during the embrace your realize that despite the woman’s advanced years, caked on makeup, wrinkles, eye watering perfume and ongoing fight with gravity, her extremely large, round boobs ARE indeed pressing into your chest. Sadly, no matter how hard your try, you end up using that bit later whilst in private*. You’re not happy about it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Riding in the winter is my touchy/feely big boob hug.