Damn, it has been awhile since I have decided to regale the world with the diseased thoughts that populate my mind. I guess life got in the way. Well, I have come back to entertain you! (I hope).
I am here to talk about boobs. I don't know about the rest of you, but they are my favorite thing in the world. I love sports, music, writing and reading, but nothing compares to a huge set of tits. I am not sure why we as males have such a fascination with them, but we do. The bigger the better. I cannot tell you how many times I have lost myself in a great rack.
The fucked up thing is that the boobs and the woman do not matter -- I will stare and look at the breasts of anyone. For example, I was doing some shopping the other day and saw a large-breasted woman. I am meticulous -- I can spot a decent rack from several miles away. Like a shark to blood. Anyway, this woman was easily 60 years old and not attractive. Yet, I stood there in aisle 9 of Target looking at those saggy tits through her pastel-colored mu-mu. I collected my thoughts and became a little disgusted with myself. 10 minutes later I did the same thing with an even older woman. I'm sick.
So we know that age and attractiveness mean very little when it comes to my boob watching. When you put an immaculate set of titties on a beautiful woman, I turn into Corky from "Life Goes On." I will give you a recent example.
A girl at work has a ridiculous rack and my dream body-type -- a little thick, but not fat and smuggling a couple of Christmas hams in her sweater. I feel like Ralphie when he gets his precious B.B. gun on Christmas morning. Honestly, I would probably stab a child to get my hands on those melons.
However, we as males are shunned when we stare at and objectify women. Quite frankly, its bullshit. Women know exactly what they are doing.
I try to use empathy in my dilemma, so I am going to pretend I am a big-breasted young female. Man, it will be difficult to type with two hands. Anyway, here is how it would probably go down.
I wake up in the morning and thank God for the wonderful gifts hanging from my chest. I play with them for about 15 minutes (I am not made of stone) and pick out an outfit for the day. Naturally, I am going to pick out an outfit that accentuates my wonderful assets. Then I walk into work or school, knowing that guys like Kevin will be there and they will stare like I am on fire. Obviously I like the attention.
I mean, that is the reason girls show 'em off, right? I mean, if you have big knockers, they can be covered up. Nah, girls like to fuck with us -- they know that they have the power to make us do just about anything. Why else would they just let them flow all willy-nilly?
However, if we look, or even comment, we are scumbags. I do not understand this logic. Personally, I see no harm in complementing a girl on her rack. I mean, they like the attention, am I right?
For example, it is socially permissible for me to approach an attractive lady at work and say "Wow Susie, I really like the color of your sweater. It looks mighty sharp!" This interaction is likely to get me a smile and perhaps a "thank you: for my troubles.
Now, lets say I see Susie in the halls once again. This time I say: "Wow Susie, your tits are popping out today! They look fantastic!" This comment would come with termination papers, a dirty stare and perhaps a slap to the face. It's an injustice, I tell ya!
Boobs. The greatest thing to ever happen to me. They will ultimately lead to my demise.