A Day In The Life: The Boobie Diva Edition

Wonder what can hold more, my utility belt or cleavage?

Written by Gia Gotham


This is a segment I am calling, “A Day In The Life” to give perspective on a day in the life of a big boobed gal. What is it like walking around in big tits for a day? This is what I’ll be sharing here.

This particular edition is the “Boobie Diva Edition”. For all that only know me for my boobs, or those who do not know me at all, I am my husbands wrestling manager/valet. This is normally anywhere for 2-3 weekends a month, sometimes every weekend. He wrestles on the East Coast in independent federations and has been for the past 13 years. I only began shortly after our son was born and am almost going on 2 years as his manager. So now you know my weekend alias. “Mistress Meow” Bonnie Oddity, alongside my husband “Tattooed Ugly”Lenn Oddity. We make a truly odd pair. And the only professional wrestling couple in the world with split tongues. That’s 2 tongues each. Yea it’s totally hot. Anyways, to get a better idea of how his wrestling style is, and my managing style, check out his site for videos, bios, show dates, etc. So now onto A Day In The Life: Boobie Diva Edition.

Saturday, March 1st 2014. 

10 AM: Alarm goes off. Start off my day making myself a 4 egg omlette. Yes I know it’s a lot of eggs. I’m also on a big boob diet. More on that later. Pour myself some Diet Green Tea and start making coffee for my husband. Already contemplating my outfit for managing later. Wondering if I should wear my new shoes that I can’t see anyways. #haven’tseenmyfeetinyears. I’m starting to think like that now. #soannoying. #more boobs. 

11 AM: Start getting ready, start getting my outfit together. Time to strap in my girls. Holy hell. They got bigger since last show. I put on my double bra support, my 2 supportive tank tops, and add on my manager fishnet top then my new tank I had to switch to last show. (Had to switch because they grew out of my last one) As I pull on my new tank, my husband and I realize how small this new one has quickly now become. #fuck.

12 PM: Time gets close to leave for our 4 hour commute to Long Island and we squeeze in kitty time. No details here.

1 PM: We take off as I drive us down. I can already feel the enormous pressure of my boobs practically busting my hoodie open. Side note, outside of wrestling shows I dress pretty damn covered. I normally have my boobs completely covered although my boobs show off their size unmistakably in anything I wear. This hoodie I’ve worn many times, on a regular basis most days of the week. Today it felt like it was about to explode off my chest. Especially with the seat belt. This does make me smile. #secretly.

5 PM: We make it to the venue. About 3 hours until show time. Time to start saying hi to other workers and to put our gear away in the locker room. And lots of time to smoke. And get ready. And smoke. Which is what we do for the next couple hours.

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7PM: About an hour until show time. Already starting to grab my gear together, fix makeup, watch my husband finish his face paint. I spend a lot of energy on a daily basis avoiding the stares I get. I feel like it’s a defense mechanism I’ve developed over the years, from boobie greed stares to major creeper ones. If I paid full attention like my husband does to these I would go insane and probably never leave the house. So in the respect, any heckling or creeping that I recall or makes a mark is normally pretty overt for me to notice. This is a normal part of being a big boobie gal. #moving on. I take off my hoodie to finish up my outfit. I give the workers credit in this and I always have. I know how awkward it is to be surrounded by men and being one of sometimes 2 females in the locker room. Fortunately for me the guys have always done their best to be respectful and the ones that haven’t been have been addressed from my husband. He is a very intimidating guy. If you haven’t watched his wrestling videos yet, now would be a good time to watch this. I can feel the others efforts in trying to not stare or look as I’m hiding my husbands straight razor in my cleavage. (Again, really should watch his matches). 

8 PM: Show starts. We are on Match 3. Early night for us, but long drive at the end so it helps going out early. Generally we are on the later part of the card. I’m already in gear, constantly checking to make sure I’m all tucked in, mask on, whip on belt. I feel ready. The straight razor is starting to make pretty noticeable marks inside my cleavage. I can see all the pressure surrounding it. Obviously they have gotten bigger. I start visualizing mid match not being able to whip out the razor. I visualize them popping out of my top while trying to pull the razor out. I start worrying. I keep trying to make sure I stay in but the more I fiddle with my top the worse it is getting. 

SHOWTIME: We come out. I love the energy the crowd has. I can feel all the eyes. My boobs feel like they’re practically about to pop out. I get worried. I can feel my double bras fail me. I focus on the match. Cheering on my husband. Whipping my whip in ways to rev up the crowd and to show disdain. My husband asks for his straight razor. I go for the grab and I only have to move my right boob to the side slightly to wiggle it free. Thank God that was smooth. Then a villain appears. He’s coming for me. As my husband distracts to allow him to meet with my ballkick and whipping. That kick practically knocked my boobs out. As I bounce away I try to adjust. Then comes the referee spot where I distract with my boobs. I bounce and play with my whip. Distraction complete. The villain appears again where he now has the razor my husband lost. I get backed into the back curtain. End of match, I am now captured.

930PM: Intermission- Since I am now captured, my captor has me out during intermission. I hear from another worker about a girl thats a friend of his wanting to have her boyfriend get a picture with the ‘big boobie girl’. We go to take the picture. Her boyfriend has a look of fear and sheer excitement as he poses next to me for the picture. His girlfriend was so excited for him. Fans are so funny sometimes. My favorite is the kids. I normally have little girls want to get pictures with me and ask me funny questions about my boobs. The boys are totally scared. I also terrify most of their parents too. After walking past a couple “What the fuck?!” “Holy Tits!” My night ends at the show. 

AFTERWARDS: As soon as we make it back to relax, after 4 more hours, it’s time to see the damage that is done. I start peeling off all my tops. One by one down to my double bra support. My one nipple is completely out and the other is half out. I have so many marks on my boobs, from every tank top layer, to the leopard print fishnet, to the straight razor, and from kitty time with my husband earlier. I show my husband,”See what support these bras have? Remember when they would at least slightly fit?” All I see is a huge smile on his face and grabs me saying, “MINE!”. 

*The match I refer to in this blog post can be found here.*