Don't Stare at My Staring
I recently came across an opinion piece in an unnamed campus newspaper that was about the author’s negative opinion of men looking at women’s breasts. While well written and a respectful piece, she missed one thing: the facts.

Fact is, it’s human nature for men to look at women’s breasts. It’s even in female nature to look at female (or male) breasts. I believe it has been proven by science, but I’m having a hard time finding the study.

But we don’t need a study to know that people are prone to look at objects protruding from something else. Breasts protrude from the body, ergo, we look at them. Same with moles, pimples, extra appendages and long hairs. You know very well that if I was walking around campus with an enormous (that goes without saying) rock-solid man pole causing my pants to rise, you would look at it. And I would not be offended.

Why? Because I consider your eyes on my sugar cane a compliment, like women should if they are getting stared at. People aren’t interested in flat surfaces; that’s why flat-chested women never get stared at. Women should be excited to have eyes fall upon their glorious mammories. It’s a statement of their inner beauty (and outer, but mostly inner, I promise.)

I can see it being offensive, though, if the person is just ogling them for an extended period of time. That would be understandably uncomfortable. Sometimes I get uncomfortable when I’m walking on campus and gaggles of beautiful ladies keep staring at me. I walk past and here them whispering such things as, “He’s a God in the flesh,” or “Did it just get hot in my pants or was a heater just installed in there, and if there was, why?” or “Him not being skinny is actually a turn on,” or “Is that George Clooney?”

That’s why we need some sort of reform in our breast staring. Men (and women) need to learn to get a look, then stop. It’s not theirs to stare at. They should get a small taste of the booby goodness, then go back to looking at something else. It is rude to stare for longer than five seconds… six seconds… seven seconds… fifteen seconds.

Some of you might not agree with me and think I am a male chauvinist pig for saying these things. Well Jessie Spano, you brought it all on yourself. If you didn’t have nice looking breasticles, then I would not stare at them. And also, don’t get mad at me if I’m looking at your ass. You were the one that wore something with writing on that part of your body. And guess what? I like reading, and if you have a piece of literature on your posterior, I’m going to read. I’m sorry I’m educated like that.

I think I have made my case and I believe it to be grounded in pure scientific and soulful fact. We live in a world that’s already full of so much hate and dread that this conflict only adds to the ever-growing dread that is daily life. If we can’t live in a world where we can’t marvel at God’s gifts to women (or McDonalds’ gift to men) then I don’t want to live in that world.

Good day to you sir.