Any man on Earth with an interest in boobs (gay guys, go have a smoothie) can confirm that, at some point in time, in a conversation with a woman, you’ll be challenged with the spurious and confused notion that men just love boobs. The woman will suggest this in a manner that is both self deprecating and insulting to the man. It will be an insinuation that he doesn’t think her boobs are as spectacular as he has let on, that he is just feeding her a line and that, in reality, he loves any and all boobs. Women believe this as surely as they believe the sun will rise in the morning.
Ladies (both of you), this is false. False as Donald Trump’s sincerity regarding damn near anything. Men do not love boobs. They love some boobs. Maybe many boobs. And if a man claimed to like your boobs do him the favor of sincerely believing him because he likes them sincerely. Because there are boobs, dear ladies, boobs that no man likes. I will tell you about them. It is a sad story and I get no pleasure from the telling. But we cannot pick and choose the knowledge we share, lest we become an indulgent and ignorant society.
Historically, it seems as though women are deathly afraid of their breasts sagging. But the fact is all breasts sag eventually and that doesn’t make them bad or unattractive. And realistically, if you have enormous boobs, physics has to take over at some point. Normal guys don’t mind. But beware the flap jack!
A flap jack boob is not just a sagging boob, so don’t make that mistake. The flap jack is a well ironed, 2 dimensional boggart that scares children and adults alike. Where did it come from and why is it here? No one knows. But like the mighty pancake it will sit and wait for unsuspecting passers-by.
A variant of the flapjack, the sad sack is an unhappy boob that refuses to make eye contact. They stare straight down and just seem unhappy to be here, no matter where here is. The reason they are unloved is because they’re such downers. Perk up, sad sacks.
The Inner Tube
The most mysterious boob of all, the inner tube curiously circles the entire chest, right around the back, one big, boob hoop. Where did it come from? What does it want? Nobody knows, but you can get your hand caught it in and that’s not cool.
Life of Pie
The nipple is arguably the best part of the boob, it’s where all the action is. They come in a variety of shapes and colors and sizes and most are pretty great. Right up until you’re dealing with pie plates. And make no mistake, there’s nothing wrong with a big areola. But a pie plate areolas, the ones as big as your head, those are just insane. Insane! It’s intimidating to be faced with a beast that is larger than you.
Fabled boob of the Black Forest, Grubbin is the term best used to describe a weird, knobbly boobling that isn’t quite shaped right and is kind of like a sausage popping out of its casing. Now don’t get all offended if you have a Grubbins, no one’s trying to judge you or condemn you for it but look at it this way, if you saw someone with a finger growing out of their elbow, you’d take a moment to be surprised, right? Of course you would. So we’re all reasonably taken aback by Grubbins when they rear their nipply heads.
Tragic. Just tragic. Caused sometimes by bad implants and sometimes by God knows what, Thor’s Hammer is like the veiny blue lightning of the Norse god flashing its way across an otherwise delightful boob. Sometimes it’s subtle and perfectly fine but in extreme cases it’s like looking at that crazy lightning storm that can form over an erupting volcano only in boob form all jagged and insane and lashing out everywhere.