As a red-blooded, heterosexual, misogynist male, I have been busy scoping out chicks’ asses, hips, waists and breasts. It’s not because I want to mind you. It’s because society expects me to. I’m just a victim of my conditioning. I can’t help it.
With the disclaimer out of the way, I have been noticing a lot of parasite-bearing ladies happily flaunting their distended bellies everywhere. It’s seems that spawning time is almost upon us and a new crop of leeches will be loosed on humanity i.e. lots of heavily pregnant women be waddling around.
Now, while I lament their misplaced joy at bringing new life in the world, I have been noticing that my troublesome 2nd brain twitches when the women are in sight going, “You know you wouldn’t mind gutting that fish.” And I go “Dammit penis! I don’t need a new perversion to add to my CV!”
But it has a point. I’m more than a bit curious at stabbing the cat of a heavily pregnant, about-to-break-their-water kind of woman. First of all, the mechanics alone would be worth it. Missionary suddenly becomes a maneuver on par with handling nuclear material. If I jackhammer with abandon like a horny rabbit, is there a real chance of inducing a premature birth?
And if the baby can hear all the soothing sounds of classical music while in the womb, will it also be privy to the sounds of it’s mother bumping uglies? Science, I NEED TO KNOW!
Can I punch a baby if I fist the mother hard enough? Will I feel the soft head cave-in as I tickle the lady’s g-spot? How far would my arm have to travel to accomplish that? And would it heighten her pleasure? (See, ladies! With me, it’s all about you! 😉 )
How about 69’ing? Can the body even contort and stretch over that huge hump to get to the gash? Or is that simply a pipe dream at that stage of gestation?
I don’t know if it’s just sexual curiosity that’s the cause of my new found re-evaluation of the baby ejectors, or my maturity as a person (hehehe) that has allowed me to take notice of their attractiveness. But this is a venture that has to be explored at some point in time. Something else to add to the bucket list, along with setting fire to dog’s balls and wearing a suit of bees.
Today morning, I did something dangerous. Something filled with deception, trickery and attempted espionage. I almost lost. Almost…but you know me, always prepared for the worst. What did I do you ask. Grocery Shopping! As every man knows, our minds are not made for such tricky activities. We’re not genetically engineered to spot the wide array of tricks grocery stores employ. Women have developed instincts over the centuries that we men are sorely lacking (like sandwich making). Grocery shopping is one of those.
Now, those among you who have never tried it probably think, how bad can it be. I’ll tell you how bad. I was looking down at the shopping list and it said pineapples, I reached out for one and AHA! I spotted the trick. See, if I wasn’t sharp, I would’ve totally missed it. See for yourself.
Do you see it? A devious trap is it not. For the uneducated male eye, those are not pineapples as the sign so deceitfully suggests. They’re mangoes. I’d pay to see the shocked look on your faces right now. Didn’t see it at first did you. The level of malice and trickery in this place has no bounds. It slinks right beneath the lowest bar of humanity. Should you attempt to buy an orange… Bam! Look closely. I don’t even know what that is!
Their evil goes far beyond that my dear friends. Should you happen to annoy your wife and need to rush in and buy flowers, you’ll find a bouquet right near the door….or will you?
Take that to your angry spouse and see how well it goes.
In other grocery-conspiracy unrelated news, I have been gone from the blog for a while but I bring interesting news. I’m sure you think of us bloggers as the dregs of the author community, especially here on do not feed the bloggers and you’re mostly right but every now and then we actually do some serious work. Recently I entered he story moja writing contest. See here. And I came in second place, you can read my story here.
As for now. Goodbye losers
For the first time in a very long while, I’m actually speechless. This is just those kinda topics that are washaing me like an itch in one’s butt crack, but you don’t even know where to start, like said itch in one’s butt crack.
So, men and boobies. Question: what is the big deal?
I know Pervy Perv is going to probably close this page when he reads this line, but I just don’t understand what’s with dudes and boobs. What is the fascination with them? I asked this once (to Pervy Perv. This tends to be his area of expertise, hence why he’s called Pervy Perv) and he gave your typical geek answer: Science.
Apparently, according to science, men tend to gravitate more to women with big boobs because it shows that they have high fertility rates therefore then the men can trust that said women will take care of their kids well. (For more information on this, ask PervyPerv.)
Well, there may or may not be some truth to that. My mum has 8 kids, and my grandma had (has…? some of them passed on) 11, my sis got a set of twins on her first birth and, well, yeah, all of em have big boobs. They claim they even got bigger after kids. Something about breastfeeding and boobs expanding. Wasn’t really paying attention to those vybes.
Now, I’m still not satisfied with that answer. All the guys I hang out with are always ogling my boobs. Okay, not always, but whenever they see me, they have to make some lewd comment to me about my boobs. Perv Minion, in fact, always has the gall to stare down my top. He does it so often, it’s a standard part of our interactions. I’ve zoead it so much, mpaka once when he pelekad me to the stage, and stared down my top (again), and I ingiad the mat, the mama sitting next to me was like “excuse me,I think that guy was staring down your top.” I looked at her and nonchalantly waving my hand said, “Who, him? Yeah, I know. It’s a kawa thing. No biggie.”
To say the chiq was shocked would be an understatement. That very incident also gives credence to my assessment that I’ve become soft, at least where my friends are concerned. Either that, or I stopped giving a fuck. Probably the former. Yeah, the former.
Back to the question at hand. What is men’s fascination with boobies? Me that science answer just isn’t enough for me. I need something more…understandable…? Yeah. I need something that I, as a chiq, can relate to.
Oh, and it also doesn’t explain why some men can’t stand fake boobs and others just don’t care, though it does explain why mamas go out and have silicone shoved up their chests. I mean, if that big boobs theory was actually right, then no man would be picky about whether some chiq went and got implants or not, right?
Anyway, clearly it’s not in my place to say anything. Ebu you men talk to me. What’s the big deal with boobies?
PS on a very, very different note altogether, what the hell are you guys posting and not posting on this blog? Akina twin, Perv Minion, Cass, Adam…get your lazy asses to a cyber or wherever the hell you’ll get internet from and post on the freaking blog, ala. Ya’ll know very well Kevo is just gonna mess with people’s brains and Pervy Perv is just gonna traumatise people on here. You children are really joking with life, ne? You have no shame. *mscheeeeeeeeeew!!*
PSS Yes. I was indeed extremely bored and had absolutely nothing of (relative) substance to post. Deal with it.