Lenny Vs. Boob Power

Welcome to my newest series “Lenny Vs.” I even made a logo. You like?

I come across many articles that I have issues with. Or, maybe “have issues with” isn’t quite right, I mean, yes, some I may have issues with, while others I have questions about, and still others I simply want to comment on and/or add my own insight.

The titles of each post of this series will be “Lenny Vs.” and then the article title.

As you can see, for my first outing I take on “Boob Power”, an article at Nerve.com by Bianca Merbaum (read it for yourself here). Being a lover of all things mammary, it seemed a natural choice to kick off this column.

In the article Bianca experiments to see if flaunting her impressive assets (quantified below) will get her things. Um, yes, yes it will. In spades. Without having to ask. And more than you asked for if you did ask.

“The last time I checked my size I was a 36DD, but according to my bra fitter, Chauntelle, I was a 30F.”

Bianca, you hard me at had me at, had me at, you had me at 36DD, but good lord…30F?!??!! How you doin’?

On a side note, I have a new personal hero and her name is Chauntelle. A great human being who has found a way to get paid to do something that I would do for free.

Is it possible to will a job to somebody? I mean I know with royalty when the King dies, his son the Prince steps up. But it is possible that if Chauntelle were to meet an untimely demise, she could deed her position as bra fitter to, oh I don’t know, maybe someone that considers her a personal hero? Anyway…

Bianca goes on to write:

“Hot damn! I thought, admiring my protruding cleavage. For the first time, my breasts were…looking instead like balls of plump, peach-colored cushion. There was something incredibly appealing about the supple curves of my chest, the soft bounce of them when I moved and the subtle crease in the middle.”

Excuse me, I think I need a minute…

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…(baseball stats)…

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…(Rosie O’Donnell)…

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…(starving kids in Africa)…

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…(Paris Hilton).

Okay I’m good.

I think Bianca’s sweet. A sweet large breasted naive little thing. Naive because any woman that would wonder, let alone not know unequivocally that boobs make the world go ‘round must have lived a sheltered life.

Given her last name and the fact that she uses “shvitzing” in the article, I’m guessing she just recently escaped the Orthodoxy and is experiencing her own Jewish form of Rumspringa.

What’s more, she doesn’t even really test the theory out. Her first experiment was trying to see if men would sign a petition to save bananas for the monkeys. Sweetie, with the right amount of cleave, a straight guy would sign a petition claiming his mother was a whore.

As for her second experiment, where she sees how many free drinks she can get:

“…gone to a bar flaunting my cleavage…”

And:

“…I brought a friend of mine whose boobs, next to mine, looked like corn kernels.”

She says that she meets a guy outside that “eye-fucks” her (a Jewish girl with F-cups and a mouth like a sailor – I suddenly have this overwhelming urge to belt out a rendition of Hava Nagila while dancing the Hora) and continues to ply her with $14 drinks all night. While her friend, she says, only gets one free drink from a gay guy.

As a result she claims her experiment a success. I say at best it’s incomplete. You see, as any guy will tell you, even those like me who prefer breasts of the “bigger is better” variety (so long as they’re natural), it’s not the size of the breast that matters, it’s the willingness of the girl to let me touch them. I’m more willing to chat up a lady with smaller breasts if I think I have a chance at meeting them, than a blessed girl with whose breasts I shall never be acquainted.

So you see, we were given no indication as to how her friend with the “corn kernels” was dressed or behaving, whereas Bianca’s own admission that she was flaunting her cleavage would lead most guys to believe that she was down to fuck. Unless of course she was of the much maligned cocktease variety of woman. Plus the fact that Bianca wouldn’t have shot any guy down that night, if only for the sake of the experiment. So therefore again, experiment incomplete.

If there was one bright spot that came out of the article/experiment, it is this:

“For me, it was an empowering epiphany, and removed any lingering thoughts I had of getting breast-reduction surgery.”

If this article had ended with her getting the surgery, or even still considering it, I very well may have cried. Five feet tall with F-cups is a-okay in my book!

- Lenny