Men stare at women’s breasts!

Its just what we do.

Yes, we know its rude and we know you’re going to get pissed off when you catch us but we still do it anyway.

scarlett johansson

If you’re a woman and you’ve always wondered what the big deal is with guys and their total fascination with your chest, I’m about to explain it all to you. Its not a complex secret, like the mystery of why a water bottle placed in the fridge rapidly goes down to an inch from the bottom but can then stay at that level for the next five weeks. No, this is actually as simple as they come.

We can’t help it.

You know how everyone has to slow down and look at an accident on the highway. When we see a woman with a tight fitting shirt pulled over a shapely pair of breasts, its like driving past a 54 car pileup right on the side of the road. (That’s a very sneaky nod to an old television series for those who are really inquisitive).

Do you know why we stare?

We don’t either, so stop asking us about it!!!

Its just engrained in our DNA. You have to shop and buy shoes and handbags; We have to drool over cleavage and dream about nipples. Its just one of those constants in the Universe like the way beer always tastes better when its cold and frosty and the way Sylvester Stallone will keep making Rocky movies. I can already hear some of you arguing that Stallone’s death will slow down the franchise but in “Rocky Balboa”, they already created a computer-generated Rocky and you can be certain that will keep the Italian Stallion beating the Hell out of opponents like Chuck Norris, Barack Hussein Obama, and the latest Terminator robot for decades to come.

If you’re wondering what Rocky punching out Obama has to do with the subject at hand, — nothing at all, but its a good transition to assure you that a man’s love for a lady’s chest is so embedded in the core essence of basic “guyness” that even gay men give an appreciable nod to a woman with a nice rack.

If you’re skeptical, I’ve got a good test for you. Buy a Maxim magazine and open it up to a good boob shot. It doesn’t matter if its covered or not. Leave it laying on your guy’s workbench in the garage and tell him that the fence needs to be repaired. Then see how long it takes him before he fires up table saw. Just don’t get mad at him afterwards. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. He probably does. You just have to understand that even a house fires take a back seat to breasts.

We just can’t help it. We HAVE to look. That’s how God made us and that’s why he made you like he did. He knew that once we got good with throwing spears and making fire, we’d keep going.

My friend, Kurt Thomas believes that God sees and knows all, including the future and the past and all things that might be. If Kurt is right, then God probably foresaw that knocking down the tower and confusing everyone’s language would only prove a lesser setback for us. Knowing this, he gave us a vulnerability that we wouldn’t ever be able to overcome and started us on the road of technology that would eventually allow us to develop Internet porn.

Of course, some of you are shaking your head and saying “Not my man”, even though you and I both know that yes, I am describing your man, but seriously, — you have no room to be indignant!

We know that you use your boobs to manipulate us.

You think we don’t know about all this but we do. Its not that we’re unaware of your scheming. We just don’t have any resistance to it. Its like the way a black widow spider entices the male with her scent so she can bite its head off and toss aside its body. On some level, the male spiders know exactly what’s going to happen to them but they go forth anyway.

They can’t control it and neither can a man who is exposed to woman wearing a low-cut dress. Like our arachnid associates, we continually fall into the same trap. In fact, just how men react in this sort of situation not only determines whether or not the guy will have a smile on his face for the next hour but also guides the fate of the entire human race. You see, a set of really nice boobs is literally the key (or at least two keys) to the very existence of humanity.

Every counselor in the world says that a guy knows a woman likes him when she smiles at him.

That’s absolute crap!

The true sign that a woman likes you comes when she catches you staring at her chest AND THEN she smiles. That’s when a guy knows he’s got his groove going.

Even afterwards, when the relationship develops and we finally get down to the action we’ve been waiting for, — that moment when the shirt comes off, the bra is on the floor, and the two targets of our desires are right in front of us, — we’re not even sure what to do next.

When you think about it, its the ultimate cruel joke. Men are programmed with a fiery desire that motivates them to suffer through an evening of dancing, a dozen senseless conversations, and wearing clothes that if it weren’t for women, we wouldn’t wear even once in three lifetimes, just for the hope that we might see some skin. Then, when we finally do get the opportunity to touch a pair of breasts, something that we all know is really the only true mark of our success, we realize that we have no game plan and no idea how to maximize the experience.

We try to do our best. We grab them. We pinch nipples. We do things would our mouths that we think are sophisticated and women think are just stupid but before long we give up and focus elsewhere. We get down to the actual business and move on.

Then we’re back on the street, ambitious to pursue all the higher callings in life, when we are suddenly magnetized all over again as soon as a new woman with a good build walks by.

If you have any doubts about this, put on your best push-up bra, wear that outfit that really flaunts your cleavage, and go to the sporting goods store. Ignore the guy at the cash register and the ones pretending that one football is any different than any another and look for the guy who focuses on nothing more than buying a kayak. Walk past him and see what happens. Then search the entire store for the guy who glances at you and then looks away in boredom because he’s already played the game a hundred times and finally learned his lesson.

You won’t find him.

He doesn’t exist.

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