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Travelers Welcome

Friday, January 21, 2011

Size Matters

by Kathy Carr

Jugs. Knockers. Wazoomies. Breasts have many aliases. Some names are used to indicate size, others to indicate function, and still others are used by rappers and street people who rely on slang for the majority of their vernacular. The fact that you can call breasts by so many names shows just how important this area of a woman's anatomy is.

From the time a girl is old enough to speak, she dreams about what it must be like to have men stare slack-jawed at her voluptuous breasts. As she plays with her Barbie doll, admiring the chesty perfection Mattel achieved, she imagines what it's like to be a Baywatch babe with huge melons bursting from her chest. The day her mother tells her that she needs a training bra is a day no girl will ever forget for that is the day she becomes a women. On the contrary, it is a truly cheerless day when a blossoming young woman realizes she will not likely be well-endowed. All hope is not lost, but she must walk with a bounce and wear extraordinarily tight, low-cut blouses to compensate if she ever hopes to garner any male attention. If she is lucky, some charitable young man will see past her lack of cleavage and ask her out. She may have to develop a “loose” reputation in order to achieve this, but that is certainly a better alternative to becoming a flat-chested old maid.

Some unenlightened people think that males ought not to be fixated on bosoms. Yet, men cannot help it, they are naturally drawn toward large breasts. It's like they are planets – the larger the planet, the greater the gravitational pull. Some scientists have stated that this has something to do with mating – that subconsciously men know that women who wear at least a D-cup will be better equipped to nourish his offspring. Although this is a myth, it is true that while a woman is breastfeeding, her “girls” increase in size – until the child is weaned when they shrivel up like raisins. This might explain why some women choose to engage in what is termed “extended breastfeeding”.

Once a man has chosen a wife – based, of course, on the size of her personality – one would be inclined to believe that he will love her no matter what nature does to her body. And he will, so long as he makes enough money to have her breasts enlarged, or at the very least lifted, should they become droopy as she ages. Paying out large sums of money in order to improve your wife's appearance may seem like quite a sacrifice. However, most men are willing to suffer with empty pockets as long as they have their hands full.

Incredibly, despite how flattered they might be, many women say they feel objectified when a man's gaze continually wanders to her chest. They claim that men should make eye contact and use phrases like “Hey, fella, I'm up here” while pointing to their faces. Even harder to believe is the fact that some ladies actually think it's improper to display even a hint of cleavage saying that it just encourages men to think of women as nothing more than a pair of boobs with a body attached. It should probably be noted that the majority of females who hold this opinion have breasts which look like half-filled water balloons hanging down to their belly buttons. Perhaps their selfish husbands ought to fork out the cash to have those balloons refilled. It should not matter if paying for breast implants means there might not be food on the table; ignorant people such as these could probably stand to lose a few pounds anyway.

Even so, women unlucky enough to be lacking in the mammillary department can take comfort in the fact that they do not live in a third world country where the saggy breasts of bare-chested females might end up on the cover of a magazine like National Geographic. What pitiful creatures these women are – having no idea that they look so hideous and yet having their flaws exposed to the whole world. Imperfect breasts need not fear such cruel exposure in a more socially developed culture where there are more dignified publications in which gentlemen may study the artistry of a naked bosom. Here, imperfections are actually airbrushed away in order to spare the young lady the indignity of having her stretch marks, blemishes, or even surgical scars ogled by the masses.

Yes, society has come a long way since the days when only women who'd lost their breasts to cancer were lucky enough to receive breast implants. Gone are the days when a woman had to work hard to prove her worth to a company; even CEOs recognize that women with less-than-ideal breasts are simply not as intelligent as women with huge jugs. Still, our culture has a long way to before women everywhere will have a chance at making it big.

As the great plastic surgeon Chester McBustington once said, “I have a dream that one day breast augmentation will be considered a medical necessity. When we make insurance companies pay in every village and every hamlet, in every city and state, we will speed up that day when all the sexy ladies – black women and white women, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics – will be able to bare their chests together and sing the words of the old super-model theme song, 'D at last, D at last, thank God Almighty, I'm a D at last.'”

7 comments:

  1. Love it. Brilliant, Kathy. I'm so glad I'm a D cup... too bad the rest of my body is a DDD in comparison...

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  2. BRAVO, Kathy...an excellent exposé, or should I refer to this as exposure, to a sensitive subject...oops, I did it again, but I regress...I find myself atrracted to that which I can attain, being more of a hands on kind of guy, if the one I admire and desire is endowed with what sociatel guidelines call "average", so be it...personally, I am fond of the Florida orange form and the melon-tastic models you speak so highly of, well, if they were on the one I Loved, then I would Love them as well...now, can we address the badunkadunk...Baby got back...............

    Peace, hp

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  3. Thank you, Kathy! In my younger years I naively thought it was my brains and knowhow that would get me ahead in this world. Sadly, as time went on, I realized that my large B's/small C's were NOT going to get me that corporate attorney position I so desired. I was crushed. And now, after having and nursing 3 children, well... You know.

    But now I know I need to visit my local plastic surgeon so I can get back on track. Thankfully, with a new pair of perky double D's (or I might even go for E's - hey, I really want to get ahead in this world and think of how fabulous they'll look when I'm 80), world domination shall be mine.

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  4. funny ;) our A-cup vice president must be the exception that proves the rule!

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  5. The day her mother tells her that she needs a training bra is a day no girl will ever forget for that is the day she becomes a women.

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  6. I fully expect to be depressed before surgery and then really really happy afterwards.

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  7. A lady wanted me to come up with a super hero for a comic. All I could think of was Titman (easy to draw), a titty with legs. With the power to squirt bad folks in the eye.

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