10 Reasons Why Staring At Your Cleavage Is Scientifically Justified
So I’m sitting at a desk and a colleague bends down to talk to me. Huge pendelous breasts in front of me. I try to look her in the eyes while talking but that makes me seem weird, as does peering out of the window, or at the carpet. I’m approaching middle age and I still don’t know how to deal with this! Will I ever? As far as I can tell this is just instinct.
This is what I read on some forum the other day. It is just instinct. Maybe more – it’s a cultural phenomenon and we just can’t escape it. So ladies, read this and give us all a break, we’re gonna stare at your cleavage till the end of time.
Jugs are yelling out for attention
What, you expect to show eye candy and all the candyholics (in this case, any possessor of a penis) to pretend they’re blindfolded? It’s like waving a bottle of your finest whiskey in front of an alcoholic and then slapping him for looking at it, let alone drink it. Boobs are fun. Boobs we like. We like boobs. We’re cleavage gourmets.
It doesn’t mean we want to forcefully hump you
No, it really doesn’t. We just have to check it out! In fact, sometimes we might even be staring at a cleavage we don’t really like. At times we’re just amazed at the vast highway between your left tit and your right tit and we’re wondering how abnormally thick your boyfriend’s cock would have to be for him to actually enjoy a titfuck. Other times we wonder how much have you been sleeping on the left side in your life, forcing such an inaesthetic asymmetry between your lefter and your righter. I mean, if there are any tits-aesthetics experts, those are us, their greatest appreciators, MEN.
You are aware of the effect it has on us
Yes, you crookedly vindictive whore, you are aware of it! You like to torture kind family men just riding a bus back home from work, you like to scavenge and hunt poor high school kids who don’t get any, elders who don’t get anymore and you still act offended when they stare. You’ve got as much nerve as David Hasselhoff has when he goes out in public and expects people to ask for autographs.
You have the option of not sporting one
Instead of complaining about our rudeness, perversity, harassment, barbarity of the chromosome Y and other generally applied characteristics of the male individual, you could just spare us and not wear a cleavage. We’ll always have the nymphos plus other millions of females aware of their luring abilities and comfortable with them, so it’s really your call. Oh, mademoiselle, now you complain that if you don’t have a cleavage then the heavy sun is gonna make your tits sweat like a pig’s grunting snout? Well get yourself a fan for that udder, then.
We don’t have ’em
Except for unfit men over 50, we really don’t have boobs and we got a never ending curiosity towards the phenomenon. The boob-possessing phenomenon, that is. “How is it to live with those?”, “Can you lick them nipples by yourself or you usually need help?”, “Does it hurt when you run?”, “Are they filled with milk?” are just some questions that puzzle our minds right next to the ‘meaning of life’ paragraph of our minds. Our curiosity is completely justified and by the way, if you’re ever willing to stare at a penis for a moment, just politely ask a guy on the street and you’ll get an instant penis flash, we’re *that* nice.
That’s how we work
Call us animals if you may, it’s a very simple mechanism, well actually, what the hell, I’ma draw it for ya:
The Freudian explanation
Yes, we also miss our mommies. The first feel good moments of our lives were suckling on some milky jugs. And then when we grew up we got more and more aware that the nurturing capacity of a beloved female partner is directly proportional with the size of her bust. If you were more understanding you’d agree we’re just victims of biology.
We got reflexes from the TV
Our dick muscles and the eye-brain-cock links are well-trained anyway from all the commercials inviting us to stare at boobs while getting offers to buy products we don’t need. Boobs enhance consumerism and we’re living in a consumerist world, honey! Boobs are everywhere and sometimes we can’t even distinguish if you’re real of you’re a fucking street ad. So we thoughtlessly stare :'(
Staring at boobs prolongs life
According to some scientific studies, 10 minutes of staring at large boobs every day makes your life longer by 5 years. So beware, damsels, boobstaring just so happens to be the new going to the gym or the new eating your veggies, either way, the new healthiest thing to do. If you think right about it, it’s a win-win-fuckity-win situation.
We can’t control it
Our sexual organs go on full alert status, they don’t know it’s just a false alarm. Shout as we may “Abort mission. Target inaccessible, we’re in public transportation”, it’s all in vain. Have mercy on our souls, oh, almighty titwearer, oh, thou shalt be rewarded by the Gods, for they’ve already given thee thy bosom, which you could just flash and spare us the cleavage, to be quite fucking honest.