Monday, February 23, 2009

Why Are Boobs Good?

If you were to ask any of my friends, they would tell you that I love to get into arguments. Probably 2/3 of the time they're very stupid arguments, the kind with no real concrete right or wrong answer, and that's the way I like it. Sometimes, we will argue for upwards of 20 minutes before one of us finally ends it by saying something extremely ambiguous. Just last night I argued for a solid five minutes with my friends Evan and Spencer about a commercial on television that stars Derek Jeter that probably no one (including us, really) gives a fuck about. We just like to argue, but sometimes it gets to a point where we realize nobody is going to win, because it's an un-winnable argument, and it needs to come to an end. When we reach this point--and I always know when it is, because you just's like knowing the appropriate time to start a slow clap or a USA chant: it just comes from your loins, or something--I wait for the next person to ask me a question starting with the word "why." I never hear the end of their sentence, because I always interrupt them and say, "I don't know. Why are boobs good?"

This is how I end senseless arguments. But it's also very problematic. Because really, why are boobs good?

This bothers me to no end, because I do not know. If given the opportunity, I will stare at tits (authors note: I'm going to try and use every word I can think of for boobs throughout this post) all day long. This is just how guys are, and everyone knows it. My mom sent me a text message a couple of weeks ago alerting me that the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue had arrived, and that she'd save it for me so I could check it out the next time I came home. (I don't know why she'd do this, because now when I come home she's not going to see me at all, because I'm going to be staring at Marissa Miller's rack and wondering why the fuck they're so captivating.)

You could easily tell me that I'm being stupid right now and having an argument with myself that cannot be won, but that's pretty much what I do. This one, though, will not end with the question "Why are breasts good?" because it's just too important. I don't have the data right here, but I read somewhere about a recent survey taken that said 98 percent of the world cares more about Meagan Fox's knockers than they do about Derek Jeter (The only people who care more about Jeter were people like Joe Buck, those with the first overall pick in fantasy baseball, and the guys who insist personality is the only thing they look for in a woman). This is something that cannot be ignored, and it must be answered, but I don't know where to start. It makes my head hurt just trying to figure it out.

If you think about it, there's nothing really aesthetically pleasing about knockers at all. I mean, they're merely a curviture on most women's body that has a nipple on it. Really, it's nothing more than what a guy has, except that they're bigger, and in our eyes, better.

If it wasn't for the way that bosoms are looked upon by men, then I imagine most girls wouldn't want to have them at all. Most of the girls I know occasionally complain about having them, because they have to wear bras, and can't take them off until the end of the day (I've been told on more than one occasion that taking your bra off at the end of the day is like removing your workboots). They even have to wear them when they work out, because if their endowments are big enough they bounce around and hurt, and could even strike you in the face. I don't know about you, but I don't want a part of my body bouncing up and slapping me in the face whenever I'm trying to play raquetball (haha get's kind of like rack. Damn I'm good), unless it's, you know, my cock. Because that would mean it was big, and that's something I'm told chicks would dig. And you know what? I can empathize with women, too. If it wasn't common knowledge that size does, on occasion, matter, I would be straight-up pissed if I had junk big enough to slap my own self in the face. It'd be annoying. But with the way society is, I'd love to have one like that. I'd like it to be so long that I have to get a hose roller installed in my jeans to keep it from tripping me while I walk.

So, the only plausible reason I believe you'd get from a girl when you asked them why hooters are good would be that guys like them. If they're telling you anything else, then you know for sure they can't be trusted, and you should run for the hills. I'm not saying you shouldn't do that anyway, but that's one of the less-subtle signs, I think.

Logic would say, then, that guys have to have the answer for this, and I think it's really a very psychological reason that comes back to something hardwired in not only every man, but every woman, to pretty much ever live: We want what we can't have.

Think about it. Guys don't have boobs (unless you're Meatloaf in Fight Club or have yourself a little set of moobs). Dudes don't start to grow in the chestal region and get all psyched because they're coming of age. (Consequently, we don't have that whole, um, other coming of age thing. But, yeah, I won't go further with that. Except to say that most guys get really excited about vaginas, which is another thing we don't have. My logic is certainly not flawed.) So, a nice set really seems to get us going, because it's something we don't have, and like cave men, we feel as though we must investigate them at any given opportunity.

It's uncontrollable, really. I was just talking to one of my best friends the other night about this one time we went on our first and only real date in high school, and she said she'd caught me looking down her shirt. Here I am, trying to figure out why me and every other straight male in the world really enjoys looking at boobs, and I'm doing it myself...without even knowing. We'll just go ahead and say I was doing research.

But there it is, the reason why boobs are good is because men want what they can't have. This is the answer to many of the strange questions that arrise concerning the mating and coexistence of men and women.

Women also want what they can't have, though. Back in the day, they wanted to be able to vote and have jobs, right?

This settles it. I'm definitely an ass man.

Come to think of it though...why are asses so appealing?