May 08, 2011 14:34
Found on the internet the other day:
"Now, speaking on behalf of all heterosexual males for a moment, no man worth his salt gives a sailor's tug how big a lady's chest is. We could get aroused simply glancing at a crude charcoal sketch of a single boob scrawled on the side of a shed. Place an actual, live pair of boobs in our immediate proximity and you've already fulfilled our every waking dream. Who cares how many atoms they're made out of? THEY'RE BOOBS, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! CAN'T YOU GRASP THE SIMPLE SOARING MAJESTY OF THAT?"
This makes me smile, because I agree. The only guy I've ever met who really gave a rat's crap about women having big boobs was, as far as I could tell, a seriously-in-denial closeted gay, who overcompensated by declaring loudly his attraction to women like Pamela Anderson or other women who look like haggard, plastic porn stars. Boobs are just awesome, and it's silly to worry about their size and shape, and simply tragic to carve them up and ruin them for the sake of trying to alleviate dysmorphia.