CollegeCandy » boobs

Breasts, mammaries, ta-tas, bazooms, melons, watermelons, balloons, boobs, boobies, chesticles, rack, honkers, hooters, headlights, baby feeding devices, pillows, snugglers, smugglers, and PUPPIES!

More than the Tardis and the Intersect, breasts are the greatest creation on God’s green earth? No? F*ck you, yes they are. Stonehenge could crumble, sliced bread can eat me and space may be the final frontier, but sure as s*it ain’t my favorite. Or ANY heterosexual male’s favorite for that matter. Men are obsessed with breasts. We are. Accept it. I’m not saying you need to like it, but it’ll save you a world of wishing death if you admitted it. The question isn’t whether Bourbon St. at Mardi Gras is our heaven, the question is: Why?

Well, I’ve got a few theories swirling in my brain. First, I think we’ve got breast envy. That’s right, I said it! Men love boobs because we’re without. They’re just so much fun! All we get to play with are our pricks and that’s pretty limiting.

Part of me thinks it’s a power thing. Breasts hold sway over us. We know they dominate us, and that therefore entices and as frustrates us. Women are the dominant gender for SEVERAL reasons, and two of them are staring at our chest while our eyes try to steer upwards.

Another part of me (I refuse to name which part) thinks this is a dignity issue. Ever notice that when a woman’s naked it’s considered sexy, but male nudity is funny? You know why? Breasts! Without them we just look like deformed Ken dolls.

Perhaps there’s something to do with Oedipal desires/milk of life, and therefore a reverence for the power to create life. Although, truth be told, I wasn’t breast fed and I’m clearly still a victim to my double-D compulsion. Thus, I dismiss this particular theory! One down at least…

Maybe we’re all trying to over-think it too much. It could just be a callback to the primitive amygdala in our brains. Breasts are an indication of a potential mate with which to procreate and we are programmed to procreate. I wonder if breast size and shape, in the days before homo-sapiens wore clothes, had bearing on who one would wish to knock over the head with a club and drag back to their caves. Of course, being a shower vs. a grower could’ve also had the same affect for you ladies.

I like to think that as we’ve evolved, size doesn’t matter as much. It certainly doesn’t for me. I’ve been in lust with women who I’ve had bigger mammaries than, and you better believe I still loved seeing them in low-cut tops. That’s it! It’s the fact that breasts — of all sizes — are magical!

Think about all you can do with those babies. I mean, you can dress them up or down. You can create all sorts of optical illusions so that they appear to be all different shapes and sizes. Or you can literally display them as works of performance art. You even have the opportunity to augment them if you want! Tough to do with testicles. We only get implants to replace, not to enhance. And if you’re in the adult entertainment industry, you can even write them off! Even the IRS loves them. Holy tax deduction, Batman!

To an extent, I want to apologize to all of you ladies on behalf of my gender. We do ogle. We do stare. We revel and worship. We are reduced to horny toads and come off as disrespectful almost all of the time. I don’t know if there will come a day when our obsession will die down, but I do believe it’s a miracle you put up with us. I mean, we don’t even consciously choose to look at them, we just do. There’s certainly something instinctual going on. Instinctual that often crosses the line to insulting, skeevy even.

You’re the heroes, not just for being the gatekeepers, but for not having squished most of our eyes to jelly after you turn fourteen. Could you help solve the mystery? Why do you think men are obsessed with your…you knows? In what ways do you think man’s fixation on them has helped or hindered you? Tell us. Teach us. Punish us?

I Have Small Boobs … So What?

Charlsie - Hollins University — Fri, 24 Jun 2011 20:30:56 +0000

Boobs – we all have them. Some are gigantic, some are barely there. Some are 100% real and others are fake. While some of us can fill out bras, some of us need a little push up enhancement. In a big breast lovin’ society, it can be hard out there for a girl with a smaller chest. But I’m not going to lie – I love my small boobs!

Although we all seem so programmed to want double D’s that spill out of some overly priced bra that will only add to their bodacious size, I am perfectly okay with my boobs and the size that they are today. Really, I don’t see what the big deal is when it comes to being an A or B cup. In fact, I only see the pros instead of cons.

Thanks to my smaller cup size, I never have to worry about shopping. My well-endowed friends always complain about never finding bras in their size, never having the styles they want made for their boob type, or they feel like lingerie and undergarment shopping isn’t aimed for those with a larger bust. Based on my personal experience, I always find the size I need, the style I want, and leaving with what I want or need happens more often than not. Same with shopping for tops and dress — while my D cup friends have a difficult time finding dresses that fit them well in the bust, I feel like my small boobs don’t determine what I can and cannot wear. Yes, of course, sometimes I don’t fill out a dress completely, but I sure rather slap on a padded push up to do the job instead of wearing something else.

Not only do my small tatas make it easy to shop, but they keep things simple. Women with larger breasts often complain of having stretch marks, sore boobs, and of course, a sore back. A few of my friends find running painful without the right bra support because their boobs are so heavy. I, on the other hand, have never experienced what that could possibly feel like. With so many back problems occurring for women with fuller cup sizes opting for breast reductions, I can’t help but feel lucky that my small boobs have never held me back or caused me pain.

While some women with smaller boobs often feel insecure about how men will react to them, I just say … whatever. If a man doesn’t want to talk to me, date me, or get frisky in the sheets because I have tangerines instead of watermelons – I don’t want to know him in the first place. Obviously, my breast size does not define me and if that is somehow a deal breaker, then let me say NEXT and move right along. And just because I have clementines instead of cantaloupes, it doesn’t mean I can’t have fun. My boobs still function the same way as big ones. In fact – they are perfectly palm sized, and the last time I checked – their size (or lack thereof) changes nothing between the sheets. Imagine if women decided what men they were interested in completely based on penis size before ever talking to them – how would that go over? But really, my small boobs are mine – and no guy is going to make me feel badly about them.

Although I will admit that sometimes I wonder if the grass is greener on the other side, I can’t help but just embrace what I’ve been given – even if it’s nothing more than a handful. My boobs work for me, and as a woman with the body I have — I don’t think I could ask for more.

6 Offensive and/or Funny Apps for Dudes

Jenn - Wagner College — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 20:00:29 +0000

There’s an app for that.

For what? Well, just about everything these days. From finding the perfect shirt to getting directions to that restaurant you’ve only ever been to once to planning your wedding. There’s an app for it.

And most of the time, I think that’s a good thing. I pride myself on welcoming new technology, embracing these changes and seeing them as good technological advancements, rather than unnecessary complications. But today I just might have to make an exception. Because after spending some time in the app store I’ve made some discoveries that have led me to question not only my love of technology, but my love of humanity.

Have you seen what’s out there? It’s okay if you haven’t. Because I’ve brought it here for you. Partly to inform you, but also so you can commiserate with me. These are the apps our guys are downloading? No wonder they screw up so often!

1. Breastimate. An app that can tell you the bra size of every women in the room. You can either upload a picture, if you’re really curious about an old flame, or take a photo right there on the spot. Just point and click and there you have it. A “breastimated” bra size.

2. Super Sexy Pickup Lines. Great. As if guys don’t come up with enough cheesy pickup lines all on their own. Now there’s an app to help them come up with the creepiest, sleaziest, most ridiculous pick up lines out there. Can we get an app that makes men stop using these pick up lines, please?

3. Bump. Guys aren’t big on the whole hugging and holding and showing affection thing, especially not with one another. So often they end up doing the head nod or the fist pump, or occasionally that half hug, half handshake thing. It can get a little awkward. But they don’t have to worry about that anymore. Not with this app. All they have to do is bump their iPhone and there you have it, a bromance is born.

4. Jersey Shore Grenade Detector. This list would not be complete without a Jersey Shore mention. So let’s see what these boys have in store for us, shall we? Ladies, let me introduce you to the grenade detector, an app with the sole purpose of detecting and alerting of grenades. I feel as though I should be surprised, but I’m not.

5. iFart. Want to make fart noises? There’s an app for that. Oh, the world we live in. Not only does this app come with prerecorded fart noises but you can also record your own. And the best part, you can even set your phone to make fart noises when someone picks it up. It’s the Whoopi cushion of the 21^st century, ladies.

6. iBeer. Do you ever feel the need to pretend to drink a beer when you’re out and about? No? Funny. Neither do I. But apparently this is something that guys have a real need for, since there’s an app out there for it, and all. With one click of a button the screen of your iphone can turn into, that’s right, a glass of, beer, which you can dip down and pretend to drink, and watch the fake liquid disappear.

Really, guys?

Tuffy Luv Says He Doesn’t Want A Relationship

Sara - NYU — Tue, 31 May 2011 17:00:07 +0000

Question?! Answer: Ask TuffyLuv@collegecandy.com.

Note To The Kids: I get several emails a week asking me to respond personally on email. I won’t do it. Stop asking.

Now back to your regularly scheduled column.

Dear Tuffy Luv,

I apologize in advance for this being long and probably confusing. Okay. My boyfriend and I have been together for a year and a couple months, and it’s really great. We’ve always had a long distance relationship; a couple weeks after we started dating, he moved 5 hours away for an internship. It was okay, he came back once a month and stayed at my house during those weekends (I still live with my parents). This internship lasted four months, and about halfway through I spent a week there with him. At the end of the week, I told him I loved him. He said it back, and it was cute and good and happy. Things seriously took a turn for the worse, though. He grew distant, I confronted him, and he confessed that he didn’t really love me. I was absolutely distraught, broken. But I truly did appreciate his honestly (even though it was a couple months late) and we worked through it. He moved back home soon after and things got really good again. We were still long distance though, he lives at school about an hour and a half away, but he still visited every weekend.

At one point during winter, he was checking his email. I noticed a folder called “Sarah.” I knew he had met a girl online named Sarah when he was in high school, and I figured it was just emails exchanged, whatever. I made a comment, half passive-aggressively, like, “Oh, why don’t I have MY own folder?” and that was that. But during Christmas break, while he was staying with me for the better part of three weeks, he left his laptop logged on at my house while going to his dad’s. I just had to look! I opened the Sarah folder, and there were three emails from her during our relationship, all of which included pictures. One was of her breasts, one was her in a bra, and one was her wearing a bra and an ugly blue blazer. The last one, I saw he responded by telling her she looked “cuter than ever” and to “feel free to send more.” I called and made him come home, and we sat on my bed for hours talking and not talking. He cried. I cried. He told me that it wasn’t an “I’m going against my girlfriend’s back!” kind of thing, that this girl had been sending him pictures for years and he had grown used to it. I do believe him, maybe that’s naive of me, but whatever. I had no idea what I was going to do, though. See, since before he began dating he had plans to go to another country for 6 months for another internship, and this was set to happen in March, and he’d never stated he wanted to continue dating.

When we discussed the pictures, I brought up that maybe we should just break up because of what happened and the fact he was leaving, and he did tell me he wanted to continue our relationship while in Germany. I truly believe he was feeling regretful about what he did, so we stayed together. (He’s NOT an emotional guy; crying as he tells me “you and your family have been more of a family than mine ever has” had a strong impact.) I made it clear that I did not trust him anymore, and he understood that. Was that dumb of me to stay with him despite not trusting him? I knew I would eventually get that trust back, and I really do love him. I wanted to work everything out, not just give up. Because, you know, what if?

So, about a month ago he left for Germany. It was sad, and I bet our tearful goodbye at the airport broke the hearts of onlookers all around. The problem is, I’ve grown to be very…difficult. Not just towards him, but my family as well. I’ve started lashing out, blowing up tiny problems into big, explosive arguments. I’ve become jealous again, uncertain, and I’m not sure I have any reason to be. Part of me believes he would never do anything wrong while out of the country, but a nagging voice is telling me how stupid I am. I’m not sure if that voice is logic, or if it’s just my insecurities. I am absolutely enjoying more Me time and time with friends and family, and I miss him very much. I just don’t know if I made a huge mistake forgiving him, believing him, and staying with him while he’s out of the country. I know I would be perfectly okay without him, eventually, but the idea that it may not be “meant to be” is so upsetting. I really love this guy, and everything fits so perfectly except my jealousy and insecurity issues. I know if he were here it would be completely different and there would be no problems, and I know we have potential to get right back to good when he returns. But I’m not sure if it’s worth staying in the relationship to find out.

Thanks,
Uncertain girl who cannot come up with a clever signature name

Dear Ugwccuwacsn,

Boy are YOU wasting your time.

Okay, first of all, can I just say, what the floop?! You KNOW this guy has not been honest with you. You KNOW he won’t be honest with you in the future. Why are you trying to force yourself to believe this is a good relationship?!

As far as I can tell, kid’s never made a real effort to be in the same place as you at the same time. WARNING SIGN.

More importantly, HE TOLD YOU HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU.

Girl. Really. Why are you putting yourself in this position? Don’t you want to be with someone who loves you and wants to be with you? I think you’re right that your problem is insecurity. But the trouble is manifesting itself NOT as a relationship killer but rather as a total soul-sucker. This is why you’re getting all up in everyone’s faces. The toxic energy from this “relationship” is making you miserable.

Why do I put “relationship” in quotes, you ask angrily? I’ll tell you why I put “relationship” in quotes, Ugwccuwacsn. He’s made it pretty clear that you’re just there to pass the time. I mean, what does the guy have to do, move to Germany?! …Oh wait.

Yeah, yeah, he told you he loves you. On email. After you caught him cheating. BECAUSE HE’S TRYING TO WEASEL OUT OF TROUBLE. Does-not-compute.

I know this response may seem harsh. But I really feel a duty, as your friendly neighborhood advice columnist, to wake you the floop up. I mean, if we were in the same room, I’d shake you till your boogs fell out. But we’re not, so here go I, saying to you, and all the other readers with similar situations, that you do NOT need to be in a relationship with someone who so CLEARLY does not appreciate you.

He’s taken you for granted at every step. I’m sure you have many excellent attributes; why doesn’t he appreciate them? And he doesn’t. Because when you appreciate and care about someone, you don’t accept pictures from other girls, you try to make plans to be near them, and you certainly don’t tell them you don’t love them only to take it back later to use as leverage. I’m sure he’s not a bad person, but he IS a bad boyfriend. At the very least, he is a bad boyfriend TO YOU.

So get rid of him and stop wasting your time. Go meet people, and maybe then one person, who make you happy.

Also, stop snapping at your family and friends. It’s not their fault you’re with a clown.

And as for Sarah? Well, I think you should send her flowers. After all, it’s because of her you even began to realize what a scumbag your boyfriend is. If not for her boobies and ugly blazer, you’d still be paying for long-distance calls to Germany.

Forget your ridiculous “what if.” He’s shown you “why not.” Dump the fool.

Hearts & Skulls,
Tuffy Luv

Get more Tough Love right here. If you can handle it.

Candy Dish: Take Care of Your Boobies

CC Staff — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 14:00:53 +0000

4 ways you’re harming your boobs

This is the most pathetic/genius thing I’ve ever heard

Ask R. Patz a question!

Dress allll cute like Taylor Swift

Well this story will make you NEVER want to blind date

7 personalities to avoid when dating

Boost your metabolism!

HUGE blast from the past: shopping mall photos from the ’90s

Quiz: what underwear are you?

My Boobs Are Too Big, But I Love Them Anyways

Brittany - University of Saint Thomas — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 21:00:13 +0000

I want to begin this post by clarifying something.

I love my boobs. Seriously. They are fabulous and I wouldn’t do anything in this world to replace them with anything else. I’m happy to have them by my side whenever I‘m laying down need a handful of jiggly happiness to cry on. I believe they are superb. I don’t want this post to seem like a giant complain-fest. It’s simply the honest truth about having big boobs.

Because mine are ginormous.

I’m being honest. You could probably see them from where you’re sitting right now. I can barely fit half of one in my hand when I grab on to them (yes, I’ve tried) and when I look down, I can’t see my feet. For a large handful (pun intended) of my life, they have been large. When I was in seventh grade, all of the kids in choir made fun of me because I refused to wear a bra until my mother tackled me down and force-fed me a training bra (I thought it was uncomfortable). Kids in my high school nicknamed me BLT. And it had nothing to do with my devotion to bacon, lettuce, and tomato. The acronym was for ‘Big-Lucious-Tits.”

For a long time, I believed that there was nothing positive about having big tatas. Firstly, you can never wear skimpy clothing without looking like a slut (or risking a nipple slip). Second, I understand men love boobs but during insecure moments I wondered if they just wanted to talk to me because they were so obnoxiously huge. And third, I was convinced come 40, I would have to tuck them in my socks or tie them over my head.

Having 34 DD’s comes with major restrictions, but I’ve learned to embrace my lovely jugs. Although I can never wear really cute, skimpy swimsuits and racy tops (out of fear I’ll immediately come off as a slut and experience generous side/under boob) I’ve found a subtly sexy way to dress myself… and my two big friends. I’ve come to discover my own set of sexy big-boobied bras as well as the wonderful ones that minimize my lady friends. People I just meet never know my boobs are the size of a human head until I tell them. I’ve come to like it that way.

Oftentimes, guys don’t know what to do with them. Sometimes, they end up grabbing them so hard mid-makeout sesh, I have bruises all over them the next day. And when I’m working out, I don’t know what to do with them. It hurts when I go running because they are busy pummeling my chest and nearly smacking me upside the head. To prevent it, I’ve been forced to wear (on average) three sports bras when I work out. [Editors Note: On the opposite end of the spectrum I use a little scotch tape and I'm ready for a marathon.]

Come the end of college (and when Mama’s insurance was running out), I debated getting a breast reduction. They had yet to physically hurt me – I think my North Face backpack and Geology books beat them to that point – but one of my girlfriends had recently underwent breast reduction surgery and she did not regret it. I saw her happy (almost to the point of being light on her feet – seriously, was she actually floating?) and I envied her. Her boobs were the perfect size while I was busy shoving my nipples back into my bra.

But after a long, hard, topless look in the mirror, I decided against it. (Note: I also decided it was time to be more cognizant of locking my bedroom door, but that’s a whole other story.)

After struggling with accepting myself as a curvy, big-boobed lady in high school and learning how to express myself as a curvy, luscious woman in college, I realized that I actually love my boobs. Every single pound of them. As many difficulties and slight insecurities they have brought me over the years, they are a part of who I’ve become and, multiple sports bras or not, I wouldn’t have my body any other way.

Love your boobs or hate ‘em, make sure you take care of them!