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Saturday, August 12, 2006
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 BIG ONES, LITTLE ONES.....EVERYBODY LOVES BOOBIES!
Editor's Note: Because of the subject matter of this little essay, all links considered herein should be considered Not Safe for Work. Those links will show naked boobies, nasty tit-job mishaps and Halle Berry getting fucked.
Don't get me wrong, most of us live in free countries and you can click from your office all you want, but don't come crying to me when you get shit-canned and are forced to suck cock for baby formula. Capise?
-skippystalin
If there's one thing that no one will say out loud in public, it's that women have a decided advantage over men in the workplace. Sure, we make more money for the same work, but broads have the knockers.
That might seem like a trivial point, but it masks a larger one. Women can quit their jobs anytime they want and make a handsome living stripping. It doesn't even matter if that woman is particularly attractive. I've seen some terribly ugly strippers in my day and none of them seemed to be in immediate danger of starving.
Very few people, on the other hand, will pay to get me naked. Yes, there are enough to keep me in drugs, but that means I have to do ... other things. Shameful things that are just to dark to talk about. Why is it that I can't just get naked for money, you ask? Because, despite my beautiful, beautiful body, I am without boobs. My cute little nipples aren't enough to cut it.
I may have mentined this before, but I have a beautiful cock. It brings tears to the eyes of everyone beholds it. It may be the only thing about me that gets me a second date with a woman. God knows, I have a pretty shitty personality. But even if I had a super personality and a tiny dick, no one's going to get a second job to buy me a bigger one as often happens with a woman's tits. Does anyone know of a single example of a woman buying a man a house because he has the most excellent ballsack she's every set eyes on? Now look at your wife's chest. See those? Those are why you have a mortage and a soul-deadening job.
If you have a set of milkbags, you win. So do shut the fuck up about everything else, okay? Thanks.
I'm sure that about 40% of you are out there thinking, "Jesus Herbert Walker Christ, skippy's writing another essay about breasts?" Why, yes,. Yes I am. Firstly, there isn't much else going on that I feel like writing about. Truth be told,I don't even feel like writing this. But I'm going to be really busy next week and this might be all that you get.
 Second, and most importantly, it's a common interest. The entire human race is every bit as facinated by funbags as I am. Don't believe me? Take a walk through your local art gallery or mesuem. Those places are monuments to mammaries. As a matter of fact, so was the Great Hall in the United States Justice Department before Ashcroft got a hold of it. Some of history's greatest artworks are nothing more than titty-shows. That might be a crass way of putting it, but therein lies my charm.
I can get all pop-psychology about the topic and suggest that titties are the first comfort food. Ever been in a room with a screaming baby? You'll notice that the runtish coward quiets down in a hurry the second mommy whips her twin lunchboxes out. The same is frequently true of adult men, as well. Okay, I withdraw that last statement. That's always true of adult men. Except for perhaps homos.
As much as women bemoan the male obsession with their squeezeboxes, they are every bit as obsessed with them as we are. From puberty until well into menopause there are few topics as thouroughly explored with other women than their own tits and those of their friends. For the most part, men will see a particularly nice set and say "Nice tits," and that's pretty much the end of it. I just happen to be the exception that proves the rule. As is true with most subjects, women can talk about them for hours. And other women will listen with rapt attention long after the menfolk find even that glorious subject tiresome.
I know women who haven't gotten fucked in years and don't think twice about spending hundreds of dollars on lingere - or dream wistfully of doing so. They just want to pamper the twins. Which is fine! Really, it is. Just don't think that you're fooling anyone when you say that you're doing it for us. You've already got three holes that make us more than happy. The acoutrements don't matter a whole lot to us. We just want you to lick your own nipples for us. And would it kill you to pretend that it turns you on as much as it does us?
If society - men, women and children alike - weren't obsessed with tits, there wouldn't be multi-billion dolar industries devoted to make them look better. Companies like Victoria's Secret became muti-million ventures producing the least practical underthings imaginable. No one would have thought to stuff a woman's chest cavity with silicone - something most commonly used to seal your fucking bathtub - unless there were sufficent demand to build a better breast.
Women like to mock men because of our focus on the size of our peters. But entire industries haven't sprung up (pardon the pun) around making them bigger, or even appear to. We'll stuff a gym sock down our shorts. Women engaged in scientific experimentation more commonly associated with the fucking space program to invent the push-up bra.
Let's discuss implants for a moment. Yes, men will pressure a woman to get them from time to time to time. But this is much rarer than you think. We know that there's another guy with a bigger cock and a deeper wallet just around the corner, so that's a conversation most men aren't brave enough - or stupid enough - to initiate on our own. Indeed, smarter men won't say anything other than "yes, dear" and nod whenever the woman in his life rants about the topic for hours at a time. No good can come from doing otherwise.
Just know that for every good boob-job (and Janine Lindemulder had the best one ever, almost matched by her onetime partner, Julia Ann), there are ten that are just sily and obnoxious looking. Others look lethal, disfigured, or outright comical. I'm not going to tell you how much time I've spent trying to talk women out of getting their tits done other than to say that it's more than any sane man should.
 That being said, I'm not going to lie to you. Having a killer rack is good for your career. Halle Berry is as good a case study as you're going to find.
Despite being the most beautiful woman alive, Halle was only a mid-level celebrity at best. People knew who she was because she was so hauntingly beautiful, not because of any particular film that she made. It was only when her magnificent mammaries made their silver-screen debut that she made it to the "A-list." And those are some "A-list" hooters. You'll also notice that they are competely natural, and not overly large, just spectacularly beautiful.
Showing of her knockers paved the way for Berry to beome only the second African-American woman to win an Academy Award for Best Actress. Granted, she had to get plowed hard by Billy Bob Thorton to get it. And that's no small feat. The way I see it, anyone who can pretend to enjoy taking Thorton's manorexic seed should get a Nobel Prize with the Oscar.
Perhaps one of the greatest things about the Interwebs is the specialization they have encouraged. If you have an interest, there's a website somewhere out there to accomodate it. Why just last night I was directed to a page with the mission of making women, young and old, feel better about their knockers.
This is a website by women for women. Although some very interesting men throw their two cents in from time to time.
Women and girls tend to worry an awful lot about their breast appearance... and we wish they didn't! Women take notice: There are men who truly don't worry about your breast appearance. Please read for example this comment we received in September 2005: Those men are commonly known as homosexuals. While we don't "worry" about your tits - mostly because you do enough of it for both of us - we do notice. We just don't make that big a deal about it. Unless they're really, really nice. If they're not all that great, we'll find other parts of your anatomy to pass the time with, don't you worry.
But let's find out what the queer had to say that was so special that it had to have a quote box all it's own.
"...to my feeling, women are a lot more critical about their looks than men see them (except machos, but that category is beyond redemption.) For me, its all simple: If I like a woman, I will accept her breasts as they come, from non-existent (nipples only) to oversized mammaries. There is no such thing as "the perfect breast" for me, but there are billions of nice, kind women in the world, all a little different (Just think of a world filled with 3.3 billion Barbiedolls, cold empty plastic, all the same...THAT WOULD BE A REAL HORROR!) "  He'll "accept" them. Isn't that sweet? Look, I'll "accept" crimes against humanity simply because there isn't a whole lot I can do to stop them. If this is the nicest quote they can find from a dude, maybe this site really is necessary.
Although, if the world was "filled with 3.3 billion Barbie Dolls, cold, empty, plastic" my emotional health would be a lot better than it has been of late. Oh, I'd still hate myself, because that makes my blog funny, but maybe not as viscerally.
Like most feminist idiots, the authors of this website resort to the hackneed premise that men and women alike see breasts as sexual because of some giant media conspiracy. Obviously, the thinking goes, you need a degree in Women's Studies to see the media for what it really is. This is because the only people dumber than those with degrees in Women's Studies are those that teach them.
But they are not sexual objects in themselves. Just think: if you see a picture cropped showing only two breasts, what do you think? Media outlets want you to think certain way... BUT in themselves, this is what breasts are: special feminine body parts that can produce milk.
People often misunderstad our position and claim that obviously breasts are sexual as if it was a moot point. We are not saying that men can't appreciate woman's breasts as feminine and beautiful body parts - as ornaments - or that breasts wouldn't take part in the man/woman relationship. We are saying breasts are NOT supposed to be some kind of a 'turn-on', a special obsession point for men. Here's what makes feminism such a hollow intellectual exercise - and frankly, onanism would be a more worthwhile university program than feminism - they see the world in terms of what it should or shouldn't be as opposed to what it actually is. Wouldn't it be grand if life were all sugar and spice and everything nice? Sure it would, but it sucks and all of the wishful thinking in the world isn't going to change that.
That's the kind of thinking that kept me out of university. If I had to sit through a lecture like that, I know that I'd snap and scream "Will you just shut the fuck up and get out of your top, Sugar Tits?" If I was drunk, I'd probably throw in something anti-Semitic, just for giggles.
Judging from the advertisements, one would think that men are supposed to be "all ready" the instant they get a flash of a nipple. The media images are so screwed up. A woman's breasts are beautiful, yes, and feminine, yes, but the mere looking at them in some everyday context is not supposed to bring about a sexual arousal. I really hate to be the one to break this to everyone, but neither the media nor doctrinaire feminist nonsense dictates what brings about my sexual arousal. My cock does. And if you absolutely must know, it doesn't give ME a vote! That fucker has a mind of its own.
Then there are factual errors.
In North America and in many other westernized countries woman's breasts are a taboo: they are supposed to be hidden. Exposing woman's breasts in public is considered shameful and inappropriate ("indecent exposure") even on beaches or while breastfeeding. In other words, breasts - or at least the nipple - are supposed to be covered at all times. Because of court rulings in Ontario and British Colmbia, women across Canada are free to break out their boobies in public whenever the mood strikes. This is known as "Topfreedom." The fact that women don't exercise that precious right is all the evidence you need that women are fucking spoilsports.
Then there's a page devoted to flat-chested kids and the special hurdles they face in life, most prominent among which seem to be spelling and grammar. The letters are worth their weight in comedy fucking gold.
i am barely a 32A an im so depressed. every girl at my school has breasts and i must be like the smallest. i really want them to grow but how?? how?? i dont want surgery. does exercise help? can u give me any advice. Glad you asked. First, stop spelling like you're Prince, okay? And why are you so worried about what other girls think about your chest? You're not some kind of lesbo, are you? It's boys you should be concerned with, and frankly, they can get over your itty-bitty titties. All you need to do is forget that you own panties and learn to unhinge your jaw. You're welcome.
hi i am thirteen years old and i am flat chested, i am so obbssed with my boobs i dont go anwhere. i sit home every day, i hate life , i have recently tried to kill myself and i dont know what to do. i am going to try a herbal pill that will try to help. if not , i am going to try to do plastic at home with a friend. do you think this a good idea? I empathise. And I admire you're inventiveness as well. If there's a better idea out there than two illiterates attempting plastic surgery at home, I haven't heard it yet.
And you should forever banish all thoughts of suicide from your mind immediately. Not because suicide is wrong or anything. You should forget it because your English teacher will likely beat you to death any minute now.
That brings us to this page, which shows us "normal breasts." Like all breasts, some are fantastic, some are merely nice and some will turn you off your next meal. There are one or two that will have you questioning your very sexuality. And because all breasts are supposed to be equal and equally wonder, they sneak the truly horrible ones in with the rest.
I could go on forever with this topic, but I think I already have. 2,611 words is certainly close enough to forever for me and, I suspect, the rest of you. In any event, it should hold you if I don't have enough time to write until the middle of the week. Or just don't fucking feel like it. Whichever.
But I will tell you one thing: I'll only stop talking about Jessia Simpson's tits when she does. Which gives me another good twenty years.
Special thanks to the boobalicious Zombie for bringing 007b.com to my benevolent attention.
Easy Listening Recommendation of the Day: Fembot in a Wet T-Shirt By: Frank Zappa From: Joe's Garage, Parts I, II & III
PermalinkLabels: Laughter Joy and Lonliness and sex and sex and sex
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