The Four Seasons sang that big girls don’t cry, but they were full of shit. The bigger the girl, the bigger the tears.
Hell, I’ve found out that big girls don’t just cry, but they tend to throw punches and occasionally pull a knife.
The biggest girl I knew was nine feet tall, and she carried a sledgehammer. Whenever she cried, she’d cry buckets, and then whallop the hell out of anything nearby: phone booths, Buicks. She was a vicious wrecking machine.
That’s why I stick to midgets.
Even if they do cry, at least the property damage is minimal.