In Which I Battle A Monkey
There is no recovering from this kind of thing.
So yeah, the dinner last night was...curious. It was hosted by the president of the university and all I can say about it is that I had lots of free wine. Chianti Classico. Good stuff.
And now I'm drinking coffee. Second cup of the day.
My back hurts. I've been sleeping very poorly at night and though I get about 7 hours of sleep, I've managed to sleep on my right shoulder enough that the tension between my shoulder and neck is getting out of control. I can't afford a massage right now though. That sucks.
Over the last couple days I've been having this bizarre conversation about men staring at women's breasts. It started because I saw this chick in the mall with a this shirt. I commented on it to a friend and she said that it is, in fact, a serious problem. There are men in her office that don't even know she has a face.
I mentioned this to the g/f and she said that it's not unwelcome unless you're wearing something that says, "Don't look at my breasts!"...like a turtleneck sweater. At that point I laughed.
I'm a big fan of the turtleneck sweater and sometimes they can be sexier than a revealing shirt. They show off all the breasts, without the sluttiness! It's great! The g/f was appalled. You mean men are still captivated by the boobies? Yes, yes we are. There is no escape.
But, in exchange, you can stare at my crotch all you want. It's ok. I'm willing to make that saccrifice. She didn't think it was fair.
The more I think about this the more interesting the topic becomes though. Girls realize that men can't keep their eyes off of their breasts if they are in the lest bit exposed, so why would they keep wearing shirts that reveal so much...then bitch about it? My theory is that it's an attention getting device, like complaining about being in your 30s. Being in your thirties is, for some, like finding out you have terminal cancer. You're THAT much closer to doom.
I, for one, revel in the fact that I'm growing older. I'm happy that some day I'll be able to pull off the Sean Connery look and/or sit on the porch of my house reading a thick book and smoking a pipe. I just wish there was something I could do for the ladies, in exchange for not being able to control my eyes. For example, if I knew for certain that girls looked at my crotch, then I'd totally start jamming socks, baseballs, and small cars down my pants. I think that's akin to a push-up bra, right?
Hey, I'm just trying to give back what I take. That's only fair.
Discuss.
--GIVINGBACKISWHATIDO--
So yeah, the dinner last night was...curious. It was hosted by the president of the university and all I can say about it is that I had lots of free wine. Chianti Classico. Good stuff.
And now I'm drinking coffee. Second cup of the day.
My back hurts. I've been sleeping very poorly at night and though I get about 7 hours of sleep, I've managed to sleep on my right shoulder enough that the tension between my shoulder and neck is getting out of control. I can't afford a massage right now though. That sucks.
Over the last couple days I've been having this bizarre conversation about men staring at women's breasts. It started because I saw this chick in the mall with a this shirt. I commented on it to a friend and she said that it is, in fact, a serious problem. There are men in her office that don't even know she has a face.
I mentioned this to the g/f and she said that it's not unwelcome unless you're wearing something that says, "Don't look at my breasts!"...like a turtleneck sweater. At that point I laughed.
I'm a big fan of the turtleneck sweater and sometimes they can be sexier than a revealing shirt. They show off all the breasts, without the sluttiness! It's great! The g/f was appalled. You mean men are still captivated by the boobies? Yes, yes we are. There is no escape.
But, in exchange, you can stare at my crotch all you want. It's ok. I'm willing to make that saccrifice. She didn't think it was fair.
The more I think about this the more interesting the topic becomes though. Girls realize that men can't keep their eyes off of their breasts if they are in the lest bit exposed, so why would they keep wearing shirts that reveal so much...then bitch about it? My theory is that it's an attention getting device, like complaining about being in your 30s. Being in your thirties is, for some, like finding out you have terminal cancer. You're THAT much closer to doom.
I, for one, revel in the fact that I'm growing older. I'm happy that some day I'll be able to pull off the Sean Connery look and/or sit on the porch of my house reading a thick book and smoking a pipe. I just wish there was something I could do for the ladies, in exchange for not being able to control my eyes. For example, if I knew for certain that girls looked at my crotch, then I'd totally start jamming socks, baseballs, and small cars down my pants. I think that's akin to a push-up bra, right?
Hey, I'm just trying to give back what I take. That's only fair.
Discuss.
--GIVINGBACKISWHATIDO--
