| Redlemon |
11-12-2003 09:39 AM |
Boobspotting (Hoot Island)
I'm posting this in Humor, although it would fit well in Sexuality as well.
The TFP is (among other things) the most honest site on the Web when in comes to discussions of sexuality, as far as I have seen. However, it is not the most humorous; this falls to one of my other favorite sites, Hoot Island (hootisland.com). This is going to sound like a site plug, but the site is free, the content is great, and I've been laughing at it for years. It also doesn't have a Forum, so I wouldn't consider it to be competition for TFP.
In addition to the pictures of naked women who smile, and such wonders as the amazing Flash Virtual Blowjob, the site author has a weekly column, which I consider to be the high point of his website. Sometimes fiction, sometimes nonfiction, sometimes product reviews, always bent. Here's this week's installment:
Quote:
11/8/2003: "Boobspotting"
The place: a popular, very busy buffet restaurant in the Orlando area.
The time: 3:30 in the afternoon, yesterday.
The participants: me and Teresa.
Teres came back from the starch bar (potatoes, macaroni and cheese, lard) to find me sitting quietly with a bemused expression. Correctly fearing what I might be thinking, she asked me anyway.
"I've been sitting here watching the crowds pass by, and I've come to a startling realization."
"And that is?"
"I've seen maybe 400 people walk past me, and not a single person in this entire place has breasts anywhere near as perfect as yours."
She laughed out loud once before clapping her hands over her mouth and quivering a bit. She turned a bit pink, from muscle control or embarrassment or pleasure (or all three), and finally got enough air to say, "Excuse me? You've been sitting here checking out tits?"
"Of course. And while no one could possibly match yours in all ways, there's usually quite a few passable ones, often in pairs."
"While I'm here."
"No, of course not. That would be unspeakably rude. I do it when you're away from the table."
"Oh. Okay. And nothing's hitting tonight?"
"It's a little scary, actually. It's not just because it's Sunday and everyone's in their church clothes, I'm used to allowing for that. Watch, see what I mean."
"I am not going to look at women's chests! I've got food, here."
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt your ceremony." A few moments went by, while I carefully did not notice how her eyes followed the passersby. Finally she dropped her fork and turned to me.
"Great, now I can't keep myself from checking out every woman that I see, no matter what she looks like, to try and figure out what her boobs look like!'
"Ha! Welcome to my world."
"It is pretty sad, isn't it?"
"My world? I dunno, it's not that..."
"No, silly, I meant you're right, there are no good tits here."
"Saw a maybe-okay set over by the dessert bar."
"Where?"
"Over there, in the overalls and white lace t-shirt."
"Hmm. Smaller than mine."
"Basketballs are smaller than yours. I don't look for better, I was just surprised at the average low quality of jugs in the room. You think it's because it's St. Patrick's Day, all the nice ones are out partying?"
"Well, as long as we're objectifying people..."
"It's okay, you can't objectify people, you're a girl. All the feminists say so."
"Uh huh. But she's not that bad, unless it's just the bra."
"You learn to allow for that. She's wearing a back-clasp, padded, defnitely not a WonderBra. C cup, but
those doesn't deserve more than a B."
She looked at me for a few seconds before answering. "Made a study of this, have you? What brand?"
"I'm not that obsessive about it."
"Well, good."
"Probably a Warner, though."
"So does she meet approval?"
"As long as I'm being a complete pig about it, no. Too droopy, without the bra she'd be swinging."
"And that writes her off for you?"
"As a person? Not at all. As a sexual partner? Not at all, I pay a lot more attention to a woman's laugh than her tits. Well, more, anyway. As a walking piece of art? Yeah, probably. Remember, I sleep next to the best, I have very high standards."
"That's true."
"Ha! You admit it! You're gorgeous!"
"Nope, I just recognize that you have a serious mental delusion that happens to work in my favor. I droop more than she does."
"Do not. I'll bet she's got those tennis-ball-in-a-sock kind of tits."
"Want me to go ask?"
"All I'm doing is sharing an observation with you. Sharing my interests, you know."
"I don't share that interest, thank you."
"Oh yeah? What'd you think of the girl in the tank top, purple jeans shorts?"
"Not bad, B cup but nicely shaped. Pointy nipples."
"HA! Knew it. You scoped her out."
"Did not. I saw her in the bathroom earlier."
"Before I even brought the whole thing up! You lech, you."
"Shut up, I just noticed. Women notice each other, you know."
"No, but I'm learning. Tell me, woman are really all bisexual, aren't they?"
"What? No!"
"C'mon. All my life I was sure that woman all touched each other in the bathroom. I always figured that was why mom came out of there so fast."
"Sorry to burst your pubescent bubble..."
"No, no, it's all right. I just need a moment alone..."
"G'head, I'm busy looking for hooters. How about those?"
"Where... the one in the black dress? Okay I guess, they just look..."
"What? Square? Too light? Not green yet?"
"Mushy."
"Mushy."
"Yeah, mushy. Not firm. If she laid on her back they'd be in her armpits."
"I don't believe you're that shallow!"
"But I'm not, and you know it. I don't really judge people like that, but when I see people I make little mental notes about 'em. And you're the only person I'm comfortable enough around to share them with."
"I guess I'm honored."
"You should be. We do spend a lot of time making fun of other people. It's drawn us closer, in a way."
"Us against them?"
"Me, you, and your perfect tits against them."
"They are not perfect, they droop."
"We've been there already. Excuse me, sir?"
The guy at the table next to us looked over, surprised. "Yes?"
"I've been telling my wife that her breasts are ideal, but she thinks I'm too biased. Would you mind?"
"Oh god..."
"Sit up straight, hon, this has to be fair."
"Um, well, they look great to me."
"Told you! Thank you sir, I appreciate it."
"I'm going to kill you as soon as I figure out what would hurt the most."
"Slow suffocation between perfect breasts?"
"Nah, mushy ones would work better for that. Hang on, I'm going to go find that woman..."
"Okay, but I don't want to be resuscitated. No telling what I might wake up to."
"Never mind. I'd rather let you live and someday maybe outgrow your shallow ways."
"This from the woman who told me it was a good thing the Fed-Ex guy has such a great ass, cuz he didn't have the brains of a biscuit?"
"I never said that!"
"No, you sent it to me through ICQ."
"But I never said it."
"Are we done here?"
"Sounds like it. C'mon, let's go home and use some heroic measures."
"You're gonna make me wear the little brown shorts again, aren't you?"
"Yep, but I'll wear that halter top you like. Be sure to leave a nice tip, our waitress has a great rack."
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I hope you enjoyed this, and I'll try to remember to post his weekly columns here if there's a good response. |
