The right to bear arms but not bare breasts

With the shooting of Congressman Steve Scalise at a baseball field in Alexandria, Virginia, getting so much coverage in the news this week, you may have missed another big story out of the greater D.C. area. I am, of course, referring to the ban against public nudity that the Ocean City (Maryland) Council passed in an emergency session last Saturday, putting an immediate stop to the threat that topless female sunbathers posed to our nation's, or at least Ocean City's, impressionable citizens.

The Washington Post, did not one but two stories on the ban, including this titillating expose titled "In Ocean City, Hooters, Thongs and Horror Over Topless Women on the Beach."

Yes, in 2017, in a country where there is currently close to a mass shooting per day, the right to bear arms is still considered sacred but the right to bare breasts is still considered sinful.

Except for those fembots in Austin Powers, I'm pretty sure no one, man or woman, has been killed or seriously injured by a female breast. Indeed, unlike guns, mammary glands nurture life, not destroy it.

But hey, I get the whole wanting to ban women (or certain women) from exposing their breasts in public thing. If I could, I would ban guys from wearing thongs at the beach and in public. (Seriously, no one wants to see your pale, flabby -- or tanned and hairy -- ass or your over-oiled beer belly hanging over that limp sack of flesh hanging between your legs.)

Getting back to Ocean City's topless bathing, or nudity, ban, though, it seems a wee bit hypocritical to shout about promoting "family values" when you've got a big ole Hooters on your boardwalk, as well as lewd t-shirts for sale and smoking and drinking in public going on (much of it underage). 

But that's America for you.  

A guy's worst fear?

Okay, maybe waking up one morning to discover your girlfriend or wife had mysteriously gone from a D-cup to an A-cup is not a guy's worst fear*. But it's probably a close second (or third)**.

Though now that I think of it, considering how many women undergo breast augmentations and reconstructive surgery, having small breasts, or waking up to find your breasts have shrunk or disappeared, may be a woman's worst fear***.



[A tip of my bra strap to friend of the blog Another David S., who sent me the "Ghost Tits" video, featuring the lovely Olivia Munn, and who doesn't judge a woman by her bra size.]

*That would probably be waking up to find someone cut off your penis. Or you ran out of beer and all the liquor or package stores were closed.

**See the bit at the top of the page, in the header, about this being a satirical blog.

***Before all you breast cancer survivors and relatives of women with breast cancer start leaving nasty comments about how incredibly insensitive that video is (and by extension how insensitive I am), see the note above and take a deep breath. No one is making fun of breast cancer. Thank you.

One small step for a bikini...

One giant hard-on for mankind.

I think everyone who regularly reads this blog knows of my feelings regarding the annual Sport Illustrated Swimsuit issue (which appears on newsstands right around Valentine's Day -- how sweet).

I actually didn't blog about the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue last year, because, frankly, how much more is there to say about big busted women posing in tiny bikinis (or a thong, or body paint, which is now, apparently, considered swimwear, even though if you actually tried to swim in it, it would wash off, which, okay, may be the point, but I digress) in exotic locations?

But try as I might to ignore this year's 50th Anniversary Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue, when I heard about Kate Upton's zero gravity shoot ("Kate Upton Defies Gravity"), I had to see what all the fuss was about.

And, I have to admit, this behind-the-scenes video of the Kate Upton Sports Illustrated 2014 Swimsuit issue zero gravity shoot is pretty awesome -- and funny.



For those interested, Kate Upton is wearing a Target limited edition swimsuit. Because, you know, I'm sure y'all were wondering "Huh, I wonder who made that swimsuit?" or "Where can I get that bikini?" when you were watching that video.

[Photos from the Kate Upton zero gravity shoot here.]

Hey lady, I bet you wouldn't tell a guy he was tiny

I know I have written about boobs and bras and bra fittings before, but indulge me again, please, while I vent for a minute.

As many (if not most or all) of you know, I am petite -- as in short and thin and not particularly buxom (i.e., a lifetime member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee). And although there are many worse things than being petite, I am very self conscious about it, particularly when buying clothes and bras. And I particularly hate it when people, especially ones who should know better, make a point of how "tiny" I am. (Though, I admit, it beats being told "you could stand to lose a few pounds" or "you'd be cute if you lost some weight," both of which I heard many times in my late teens and twenties.)

That is why I dislike bra shopping -- and generally avoid bra fitters. But I was in need of a new strapless bra. So I took myself off to a department store, confident I would find something without having to resort to a specialty shop or a bra fitter.

HA!

Seriously, folks, we need to do a better job teaching Math in this country. I must have tried on half a dozen (maybe more) bras all labeled 32B -- all of which were different sizes. WTF bra makers? While I know cup sizes vary wildly, thirty-two inches should be thirty-two inches. Frustrated, I left the department store without making a purchase. But then I made the stupid mistake of going into a high-end lingerie shop.

No sooner had I walked through the door and said I needed a strapless bra than the saleswoman had ushered me into the back room and gotten me to remove my top -- only to exclaim "You're so tiny!" Which she then repeated several more times, for emphasis, shaking her head.

For those of you who think that's cute or funny, imagine a guy going to get underwear and having the salesperson size him up and exclaim "You're so tiny!" Or a woman being told "You're so fat!" or "Your breasts are so huge!" It would never happen. But I am constantly subjected to this barrage -- not just by salespeople but by women I meet and know. And I'm sick of it.

(For the record, I used to weigh 30 pounds more. Then I got Lyme disease. Then my father dropped dead. Then the guy I trusted to manage my money started drunk dialing me. (Turns out he was an alcoholic and his wife was leaving him.) So I lost a few pounds. After years of yo-yo dieting, it was kind of fun to be skinny, but shopping in the kids department for your clothes and having women resent you just because your skinny gets old fast.)

The bigger the boobs, the better the present?

A friend just emailed me this article about a controversy in the UK over this card (at right) aimed at 13-year-old girls.

For those who can't make it out, the text on the front of the card says: "You're 13 today! If you had a rich boyfriend, he'd give you diamonds and rubies. Well, maybe next year you will -- when you've bigger boobies!"

And I agree, giving a 13-year-old girl diamonds and rubies is outrageous, even if it is her birthday and you are a sheik. But the part about getting a rich boyfriend -- and better presents -- when you have bigger boobies is absolutely true.

This is yet another tempest in a D-cup. (And no, I will never get tired of using that line.)

I actually applaud the card for keeping things real. Girls with bigger boobs (who are not hideously overweight and do not have faces that would scare off little children, or rich boyfriends) do get richer boyfriends and better presents than flat-chested women (unless the flat-chested woman has an exceptionally beautiful face). If it wasn't true, plastic surgeons would be out of business. 

Indeed, I don't think the card went far enough. What it should have said was, "-- when you've bigger boobies and that acne has cleared up!"

Brooklyn Decker's breasts, appearing at a theater near you!

Just days before the 2011 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue hits newsstands (on February 15 -- and yes, there will be a blog post), Brooklyn Decker and her breasts are hitting the big screen in the new Adam Sandler movie Just Go With It, the touching story (because there is a lot of touching) of a plastic surgeon (Sandler) trying to woo a much younger school teacher (Decker).

Now, I don't know about all of you, but the only place I've ever seen a school teacher that looked anything like Brooklyn Decker was in that Van Halen video, "Hot for Teacher." Though come to think of it, Adam Sandler does look a bit like the nerdy kid in that video (which came out in 1984). Hmmm...

Getting back to Just Go With It, the movie buffs among you may be interested to know that it is actually a remake of the 1969 movie Cactus Flower, which starred Walter Matthau in the Adam Sandler role (as a dentist) and Goldie Hawn in the Brooklyn Decker role (for which she won the Best Supporting Actress Academy Award). Not to sell Brooklyn Decker short, but I doubt she's being nominated for an Academy Award next year for her work in Just Go With It, though I could be wrong.

Oh, and did I mention Jennifer Aniston also stars in Just Go With It, as Sandler's loyal but (wink wink) plain Jane assistant, whom he enlists to pose as his soon-to-be ex-wife to make Brooklyn Decker jealous? I know! Poor Adam Sandler.

(Btw, in the 1969 movie, Ingrid Bergman played the Jennifer Aniston role. And let me just say, Jennifer Aniston is no Ingrid Bergman. Then again, Adam Sandler is no Walter Matthau. Also, interestingly, Cactus Flower, which was originally a Broadway show, starring Lauren Bacall in the Jennifer Aniston role, is currently being revived, with previews starting in just a couple weeks. And I may just have to see it. Anyone want to go with me?)

Anyway, in case you've been living under a rock, and have no idea what I am talking about, here is one of the many trailers for Just Go With It (all of which prominently feature Brooklyn Double D-ecker's breasts), which aired during Super Bowl XLV:



So quick poll: How many of you female readers plan on seeing Just Go With It? Guys? Let me know via the Comments section (because I'm too lazy to create an actual poll).

And for the record, I have nothing personally against Brooklyn Decker, who may be the sweetest, nicest, most deserving person on the planet for all I know (as well as the best endowed). I'm just a bitter, flat-chested old broad with a blog to grind.

Does this ring tone make my breasts look bigger?

Despite what the New York Times says, I don't know a single A-cup female who wouldn't welcome a natural, safe way to increase her breast size. And now, finally, science has heard the call of mammary challenged women everywhere and answered with a mobile solution that is sure to be a ringing success.

I am, of course, referring to the Rock Melon ring tone invented by Dr. Hideto Tomobechi of Japan, who claims that by listening to this particular ring tone 20 times a day for 10 days, a woman can increase her bust size by over an inch. That's a whole cup size, people!

The secret of the breast-enlarging ring tone? It mimics the sound of a crying baby, which triggers a physical maternal response in women that swells the listener's breasts as if she is readying for childbirth.

WARNING: Women with C or larger cups should not watch the following video more than 19 times a day unless they want to risk having to buy new bras.



But wait, there's more, much more, as I discovered while watching a rerun of The Rachael Ray Show at the gym the other day. In addition to cell phone ring tones, there are creams you can purchase that in a few applications can literally turn your mole hills into mountains!

And I just love the names: Bust-Boom!, Breast Success, Quick Bust.

There's even Breast Enlargement Cream for Crossdressing, Transgender and Transvestite Men.

Makes you yearn for the good old days, when a girl just needed to pump her arms back and forth in front of her chest intoning the words "We must, we must, we must increase our bust..."

Keep your shirt on

Apparently this past Sunday, August 22, was National Go Topless Day. And all around this great nation of ours, in cities like New York (pictured at right), Miami, Chicago, and Venice, California, hundreds of buxom babes proclaimed their constitutional right to bare chests as well as arms in public places, just as men do, by marching around without their shirts. (Wonder if anyone blew his/her top...)

An intrepid CNN iReporter happened to be on the scene at the Annual Venice Beach Topless Day event, which was attended by over 200 bra-less babes and about 50 men. (Really, only 50 men?) Per the CNN Go Topless Day report (which includes some great creatively edited video), "a few Christian men gathered to protest against the women's display of indecency," too. (No doubt shaking their Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issues at the women in disgust.)

And, of course, the New York Daily News was on the scene in New York's Central Park to cover the uncovered. (As per usual, the Daily News' headline, and story, "Topless women march in Central Park for right to bare breasts," did not disappoint.)

Me? I say, Keep your shirts on, ladies, at least in public, except on officially designated topless public beaches -- or ta ta to bearing one's ta-tas in public. (Yeah, yeah, I know: I am such a prude.)

When did modeling a swimsuit become a sport? (Sports Illustrated 2010 Swimsuit Issue on sale now!)

While it certainly requires athletic ability to get into a swimsuit these days, if not an athlete's body (do I really need three catalogs every month, Victoria's Secret? I don't think so), I'm pretty sure modeling or wearing a swimsuit is not a sport. But that in no way has stopped Sports Illustrated from putting out its annual Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, available on newsstands now!

And what better way to pass the time on a cold, snowy day, stuck at home with the kids, than looking at beautiful women half your age in skimpy bathing suits (or only body paint) parading around some beautiful warm, sunny, exotic destination, right ladies? So I think you will agree with me (at least you female readers) when I say "thanks for nothing, Sports Illustrated."

Really, one image of model Brooklyn Decker -- on last year's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue -- was more than enough, thank you. And now you have to put her on the cover again? (And for the record, I have no idea what Brooklyn Decker's bust, breast, or bra size is -- though my best guess would be Double D Ecker -- but for some reason when you type the query "Brooklyn Decker bra [or breast or bust] size" into Google, Google directs people to this post. Oh and for the record: they're fake.)

And while I can understand Sports Illustrated's desire to have an interactive Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Website (cause it's all about the Web these days), did CNBC really need to go shoot a behind-the-scenes documentary about swimsuit modeling (which I happened to stumble upon late last night)? Really? Was this your idea Darren Rovell? Did you pick up any stock tips from Julie Henderson, Darren? Perhaps between her legs? Tough assignment, dude.

Okay, enough kvetching. I'm going to grab me some coffee then grab me a shovel and start shoveling snow.

Enjoy.

Does size really matter?

If all the hullabaloo around the economic recovery package is any indication, it sure does. Though as some would argue, it's not the meat (i.e., the amount), it's the motion (how the package is used).

And speaking of package size, why do (some) men feel the need to bring up or accentuate their packages? (Yes, I am talking about you, David Beckham, though you are far from alone.) And does the size of a man's... manhood really matter?

As I do not consider myself an expert on this topic -- and personally find a big brain and a big heart the two most attractive male organs -- allow me to direct you to a site called "Human for Sale." There you can take a short survey to find out if penis size (yes, Dave S., I said "penis") does, in fact, matter and see the results to many probing and stimulating questions.

Oh, and ladies, if such a thing does matter to you, as well as the size of his bank account, do check out his ring finger. (I also have a pet theory that you can tell a lot about a man's... manhood by the length and shape of his nose.)

And while penis size may not be a big issue for women, clearly the size of a woman's breasts are front and center issues to most (though not all) men. Indeed, women's breasts, or, more specifically, Playboy Playmates' breasts, are such a big issue to researchers at the University of Chicago, they created a Playmate database.

And now the intrepid journalists at Wired magazine, going where nearly every man has gone before, have taken it upon themselves to also flip through countless issues of Playboy Magazine to determine if women's proportions and body mass index have changed since Playboy's founding in the 1950s.

Their findings: "While real American women have steadily eaten their way up the BMI slope — just like American men — Playmates have gone from a sylphlike 19.4 to an anime-ideal 17.6." (You can read about the study, and gaze upon the test subjects, by clicking here.*)

And, you could argue, the same applies to Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, if the latest swimsuit issue is any indication.

Yes, my friends, just in time for Valentine's Day, the Sports Illustrated 2009 Swimsuit Issue is here! (Now available on newsstands across the country and online!) I bet Bar Refaeli and Brooklyn Decker have no problem staying afloat.

So does size really matter? And when it comes down to it are women all boobs and men all dicks? I, for one, hope not (though looking at some of our elected officials the past two decades, one could be forgiven for thinking otherwise).

(*H/T to friend of the blog and breast connoisseur JJV for sending me this fascinating article and his diligence in figuring out that the University of Chicago had a Playmate database, which one can only glean by clicking on a picture of a particular Playmate.)