Key West Fantasy Fest

Curiosity finally got the best of me. I attended a few events of Fantasy Fest for the first time after living almost 10 years in the Keys. And, I must say (cliché borrowed from Mark Howell), based on what I observed, I’ve probably not missed much.
My first foray into the ‘save the merchants out-of-season festival’ was to Dante’s Pool-side party wherein I was promised a wet T-shirt competition among females. My second trip downtown was on the following Saturday afternoon taken as against some very good college football games being broadcasted. I regretted both trips. Had I been given an equal quantity (I like this; the word ends almost like titty) of lumps of coal and diamonds to award amongst those ladies who were not garbed to the waist, I would have returned home a rich man, without coal, after only a few minutes at either event.
I freely admit that I am an old, wizened, ugly man in his sixties who will seize upon any opportunity to stare at women’s breasts; but only, if they merit the gaze. I am a connoisseur of the female form, having been educated by Playboy Magazines, with very strict and rigid requirements as to what constitutes beautiful and down-right ugly. Though I embrace most oriental wisdom, I do not abide by the teaching which instructs that, “it is only when we see something as beautiful, that other things become ugly.” Ugly semi-naked women are ugly whether you compare them to beauties or not.
The organization in charge of Fantasy Fest should consider two pressing issues. First, is whether the name should be changed from Fantasy Fest to Titty Fest? It would seem that in dropping the pretense of ‘fantasy’ (which is held in the minds of women who believe that their breasts are worth looking at) we may actually see more tourist show up. It is a given fact that women who perceive their breasts beautiful, will bare them upon a sincere request to do so. If this ever becomes Titty Fest, women all over America, who perceive that they have quality breasts, will flock to the event. Accordingly, we will see more tourist and their precious dollars.
Second, the organization should form a new committee charged with insuring that this annual breast display is done in good taste by those women sporting breasts of a quality to be admired. It should be called the Committee Used to Limit Lewdness. The acronym of this committee says it all. “CULL” will be responsible to insure that women seeking to bare their breasts have quality breasts to be seen.
In advance of this annual rite renamed Titty Fest, women desiring to expose their breasts should have to submit an application for a license to appear nude from the waist up which application requires them to supply quality color photographs with their application. It is an onerous task but I will volunteer to chair the committee.
Each applicant should be forewarned, however, that standards are high. First, those with nipples looking at and facing mother earth when released from a bra will be disqualified. Second, those with teeny-tiny busts, (more appropriated defined as burps), will be disqualified if it appears that their nose will hit the wall first, if ever they walk into a wall. Third, those whose belly extends beyond their breasts will be disqualified no matter what the cup size. Lastly, and for those who have expended thousands of dollars in the pursuit of perfect breasts, one may nonetheless be disqualified if it appears that her augmentation would have been better fitted to an eastern European bloc female athlete standing 6’6”, sporting a shaved mustache and capable of hurling a shot put some 150 meters. This means that those 5’2” pixies with breasts twice or thrice the size of their derriere will be disqualified. It would also include those females whose breasts arrive two or three minutes before they do.
If the organizers of Fantasy Fest implement these much needed measures, it is likely that the merchants will see a few of my dollars next year. Otherwise, I plan on buying a six-pack and watching college football next year and in the years thereafter.
I am cognizant that several women in the Keys will respond with legendary scorn and fury. In preemptive response, I would say to them; “Go to The Bull”; when Yankee Jack is playing, and ask him to sing to you his wonderful song entitled, “Yes, Dear.” Caveat: Do not be drawn in by his lyrics that a lady “Is Only a Light Switch Away from Beautiful.” I know the contrary to be true. Ask Yankee Jack for the definition of Coyote.