Aretha Fugklin

So, there I was, innocently watching Aretha Franklin sing during the TV special where they light the Rockefeller Plaza tree, marveling yet again at how her boobs are just so incredibly big and wondering if she has back trouble. I don’t mean that to be tacky — there is nothing wrong with her killer curves, and in fact I am all for them; it’s just that whenever I see her, I am mesmerized by her chestal blessings and cannot help contemplating Surprising Things They Are Bigger Than, and tonight what gave me pause is that I think they’re larger than both my infant sons.

Then, though, my gaze drifted to her coat. I cherish the fact that we can always count on Aretha to wear wackadoo cold-weather gear for her performances, and Wednesday was no different:

It’s like her head is poking out a mysterious third sleeve. Check out the close-up: