April 8, 2015 by Elliot James
Olivia Jackson does have big...eyes.
He said: “What big eyes you have.”
She said: “My eyes are up here!”
On this was built a funny T-shirt empire.
A thousand men took part in a study to determine what men look at first when they check out a woman, and boobs were not first on their automatic list.
Eyes, smiles and then breasts were the top three out of 10.
The study was commissioned by–who else?–Murine Eye Drops.
Murine’s spokesperson concluded, “Eyes usually tell us a lot about a person so we aren’t surprised that eyes are what draws us to the opposite sex. This study almost crushes the common stereotype that the first thing men look at is a woman’s chest, however it came third on the list so it’s not quite a changed habit.”
Girls love a man who wears this shirt. Off-topic, isn't that great cameltoe at left?
August 14, 2011 by Maria
Minka's hard nipples are distracting.
I want to talk about something that I feel needs to be talked about. I want to talk about hard nipples.
Yeah, I said it.
I am not talking about naked hard nipples because once you have them all out in the open, hard nipples lose their hard edge. They are not as eye-catching or very serious at all once they are naked and in your line of vision or, if you are lucky, your mouth.
Nope.
What I want to talk about is what I like to refer to as the red flag of all things tit…hard nipples in a shirt. I am a woman and I have big boobs. Clearly, I have nipples. Clearly, they get hard. You would think that this would deter me in some way from staring when confronted by what Dave likes to call “Air-Conditioning Nipples.” It does not.
Nope, when I see a pair of headlights, I am struck stupid by their blinding lure. I stare. Nay, I gawk. I cannot help it. I know I am not alone. I know ALL of you stare, too. How can you not? It’s like two air-traffic control men are waving you in to the bone zone.
I started thinking to myself, “But just HOW distracting can hard nipples be? I mean, can ANYONE resist the lure when a pair of nips are staring you down?”
I decided to be scientific because let’s face it, experiments are fun and everyone secretly wants to be a scientist. I went to one of those gag stores in the mall. You know, the kind that sells everything under the sun that you will never, ever need but probably will buy. It was there that I found a pair of fake nipples. Yes…FAKE NIPPLES. They are rubber pasties with extra-big, extra-hard nipples that when worn over your real nipples and under your bra make your nipples look EXTRA hard. Like, mutant hard nipples.
Armed with these hard nipples, or rather, wearing them, and a very thin, very white tank top (a wife-beater, as they are known to be called), I headed over to the best possible place to conduct my experiment: the supermarket. I wanted to see just how much lure a set of hard nipples had, and I want to publicly state that the findings of my experiment were both epic and quite hilarious.
To say that my super-hard nipples caused quite a stir is an understatement. I didn’t even make it into my grocer’s door before the shenanigans began. Men pushing carts crashing into things. Then I went in and asked clerks questions like, “Do you know what aisle the sugar is in?” and “How can you tell if a melon is ripe?” I asked the butcher in the meat department what cut of meat was the best for grilling. I asked a stranger in the frozen foods section if he knew where the frozen peas were. I can say that NO ONE talked to me. They all talked to my breasts. The men I asked were extra helpful. The guy in the produce section offered to carry my melon for me. The meat department employee asked me about the weather, TWICE. (I think he wanted me to say it was cold.) The guy in the aisle wanted to know if I would like him to push my cart for me. (I think that was innuendo for, “Let me push my dick in you.”) LOL
Hard nipples...distracting, but delicious.
And the women in the store? Well, they looked at me like I was the dingo that stole their baby. One woman actually hissed at me. I am not making this up. She HISSED. The cashier, a younger gal, probably in her mid-20s, was so flustered that she couldn’t formulate a sentence. It was like she wanted to tell me off and point out my hard nipples, as if they were offensive. And not one but TWO bag boys needed to help me carry out my three bags of groceries. When I tipped them, one of them asked me for my number. Clearly, he wanted my nips, not my tips.
By the time I got into my car, I had concluded one thing: Hard nipples are a pretty serious force of nature. Their lure is undeniable and, frankly, powerful. So, to all the men reading this blog, I say, it is not your fault that you stare at them. They are a formidable opponent to the eye. And to all the women, I say this…with great power comes great responsibility, so if you know your headlights are on, be careful who you are blinding. You might just cause an accident!
xoxo
Maria
July 19, 2011 by Maria
Sometimes you have to hide the guns, like Crystal Gunns in this turtleneck sweater.
Sometimes you have to show up, guns blazing, like Crystal Gunns in this cleavage exposing top.
Today, I was talking to SCORE Editor Dave, and we got into a discussion about cleavage. For dudes, cleavage is a nice thing to look at. It is a treat for the eyes, a sort of preview of things to cum (on). But for women, especially busty women like yours truly, cleavage is a choice. In fact, it is a decision. It just might be THE DECISION.
You see, a busty gal has one of two choices every day: does she show cleavage or does she cover those puppies up? There is no middle ground, and like The Highlander, when it comes to The Decision, there can only be one…choice, that is. If she chooses to show cleavage, she has to deal with the stares, glares and commentary from the men around her. And sometimes, that works in her favor. For example, if I am going to the mechanic, I automatically opt to show the cleavage. Because what I know about men greatly surpasses what I know about cars, so I am acutely aware that if I show a little bit extra up top, my mechanic is probably going to be more likely to show me a little less charge on my bill. This also works when I get pulled over. If I see those red and blue lights in my rear-view mirror, I automatically open my top up and give the copper a good look at my front view.
But there are times that I know to cover up and not show the cleavage. For example, if I am going to any event that has to do with women, I cover up. Women who do not have big breasts are not nice to women who do. This is not rocket science. Countless models tell us about the hooter hating that happens when they encounter the myriad of bitter flatties in the cruel, cruel B-cup-or-less world. I also know not to show any cleavage if I am going somewhere where married couples will be hanging out. No need to welcome horny husband’s wandering eyes and the ire of some jealous wife.
But as a busty woman, I am aware that The Decision affects everyone around me. I know that no matter what I choose, it will either make or break someone’s day. If the guy behind the counter of the coffee shop I frequent sees my cleavage in the morning while handing me my caffeine fix for the day, and I see his eyes wander to my hills, I know I am making his day. And the next day when I come in with a shirt buttoned up to my chin, I am also aware of the look of disappointment he gives me when he realizes there is no gun show that day.
The Decision. It exists.
The next time you see a lady and she is showing you an eyeful of tit crease, remember: She made a choice to do that. She knows her cleavage serves a purpose. So, my advice to all of you is go on and look. She wants you to. She wouldn’t have worn that top otherwise.
xoxo,
Maria
