Excuse Me, My Boobs Are Down Here

Excuse Me, My Boobs Are Down Here


            So it has always pissed me off when girls get upset that guys look at their boobs. And for many reasons. First of all, of course it pisses me off when the classy ladies with the low-cut, bra-looking tops on ask you to stop staring at their boobs. I thought that was what you were going for. If I walked around with assless chaps on, you’d better believe I expect you to look at my ass. But here’s the thing. They do want guys to look at their boobs. Only, they want to be selective about who gets that privilege. Like they should be able to go up to guys and put a little hat on them and everybody with a hat on would be able to look at their boobs. Sorry, ladies. It doesn’t work that way. If you want one of us to look, we all get to look. That’s why there aren’t just good-looking guys at bars. We’re all out there among each other trying to do the same damn thing you’re doing. But you’re out there trying to compete with the other jackals for the gazelle, I understand, I really do. Just realize that we gazelles are also eyeing up the jackals trying to pick which one we want to devour us (and it’s about now, I realize I should have found a better analogy) and all of us gazelles are trying to figure out which jackal’s got the biggest… teeth (metaphor successfully saved). Anyway, point is that if you’re wearing clothes that show off your boobs, be prepared to have not only the cute guys that you want to stare at them stare at them, but all of us. You don’t get to pick. Do that for me and I promise I won’t ever wear assless chaps.

            Now I told you that story so I could tell you this one. There’s a brand new reason that I get pissed when girls get offended when we look at their boobs. And it lies in the phrase “Hello jerk off, my eyes are up here.” See, it’s pretty standard procedure to compliment a girl on how pretty her eyes are. But if you try to tell her what a nice rack she has, you’ve crossed some boundary. But really the eyes are just another body part, no more or less superficial than boobs. Why all of a sudden are we allowed to be selectively superficial? Is it because they say that the eyes are a window to the soul? Because if that’s the case, they also say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And if we’re using that adage as a benchmark, I need to start doing some crunches. I also don’t know that looking at a man’s stomach is any less intrusive than complimenting a girl on her boobs. So I guess in conclusion, my point is that I don’t think that the eyes are any less superficial than a girl’s boobs. And so if I see a girl with nice boobs, I will probably compliment her on them. Though I’ve always personally been more of an “ass man.” So I’m going to start complimenting women on their asses. Like “girl, you have an ass that just won’t quit.” This is another phrase from which I have no idea where it came (that sentence took me 15 minutes to write and I still don’t like it). An ass that won’t quit? Won’t quit what? Was it ever employed? Does it have a resume I could check out? And if so, you can spare me the list of references.


            I was out at Balcony Friday night and ran into this girl, who I will not disclose the identity of in the off chance she ever reads this (he doesn’t remember her name). Anyway, she was obviously drunk and way too excited to see me. I’m not all that elusive, trust me. So she was on her way out and when I saw her, this look of surprise took over her entire soul and she came up to me, stood in front of me and stared at me. It got way awkward pretty damn quick. She then said we should be best friends. I’ve talked to this girl twice before this encounter. By now, I was just trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.What was the right answer? So I agreed. And told her I needed a ride to the airport. She then stared at me again. The music stopped. Poeple stopped playing pool and stared right at us. A tall man sneezed. How long was this going to last. “What are you doing?” “I’m trying to see if you’re lying to me.” Crickets stopped chirping. Wind stopped blowing. Should I leave? Should I kiss her? Should I fake a cramp? Her friend came up and grabbed her “Come on, _______!” Oh thank God. I turned around to talk to the girl I had been playing pool with before this encounter. She had indeed left. In fact, she managed to have already gotten a tattoo that says “Dustins are ass holes” on her neck in whatever time had elapsed. I hope she doesn’t meet anymore Dustins. So anyway, I went back to Seth to regroup…



Quote of the Day 2/12/07


Seth:     “What the hell was that?”

Me:      “I have no fucking idea. She asked me to be her best friend and then stared at me to see if I was lying.”

Seth:     “I thought she was going to kiss you.”

Me:      “Me too. Shit, I probably could have taken her home.”

Seth:     “You probably wouldn’t have even needed to go that far.”


But I didn’t! Because I’m a gentleman. And her friend was much hotter.



                                    Meet the new me,

                                    D Rec.



Still Standing Right Here…


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