That magical moment when a woman is naked and she leans forward and her breasts are hanging down. Defying the laws of gravity found in any other situation of breast viewing.
She lent over, on all fours - oh mate, her breasts were just hanging there like The 8th Wonder of the World... The Hanging Gardens of Boobylon.
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. PenguinBooks,1992. p. 38)