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FacebookUS automakers came to Congress asking for $30 billion, claiming without the dough they’ll go bankrupt. Congress didn’t trust them with $30 billion, instead opting to give them only $14 billion. That seems awfully foolish to me. If someone says “I need 30 bricks to build a house” and you decide to give them only 14 bricks, the house isn’t going to get built because it’s still 16 bricks short. Not only did the house not get built, you also wasted your 14 bricks on a project that didn’t have enough material. Same thing feels true about the carmakers. If the automakers needed $30 billion, what good is $14 billion going to do them?
On my honeymoon, I saw a lot of topless women. As per non-American customs, many women opted to remove their tops when sunbathing at the beach. If I was 14 and not accustomed to female mammaries, it would be heaven. Since I’m 31 and have a thorough and complete collection of porn on my hard drive, I wasn’t the slightest bit interested. It’s not just because I’ve seen more boobs than doughnuts. I’ve learned something from my years of “Girls Gone Wild” videos and consider myself a boob connoisseur. I can recognize quality when I see it…and middle-aged fat women is a far cry from quality.
For six days I saw nothing but disgustingly large, sagging breasts attached to disgustingly large, sagging women. It didn’t take me long to realize there was a direct correlation between ass size and probable nudity (unfortunately for the general public, the large the ass the more likely a woman was to remove her top). There were plenty of 20-year olds with excellent figures–alas, the 20-year olds were far more conservative than their older, overweight counterparts (which was kind of surprising with all the free booze being handed out).
The stuff I saw was enough to scar any man–I saw things that no one should ever see. Boobs the size of New Mexico. Boobs older than the state of New Mexico. Eventually I took to drinking just to block out the memories of what I had seen.
On the last day, I managed to stroll by the pool and caught a glimpse of something that should have resonated well with any straight man. A young, petite blonde took off her top and sat by the pool, letting her feet dangle in the water. I should have viewed her with the same majestic appreciation a hunter views a doe in the forest. Before I could take a mental photograph and save that image in my mind forever, visions of old women danced in my head. As much as I wanted to enjoy the doe before me, I could help but shake the mental picture of fat, sagging breast so tan you couldn’t tell the difference between nipple and skin.
I turned away from the girl, making sure I didn’t accidental glimpse in her direction. I’d like to say that was a moment of growth for me–that I matured and no long will ogle the naked female body. But in reality, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at bare breasts again. I won’t go as far as to say I’m tainted forever. I think I’ve just come to accept there is such thing as good nudity and bad nudity. The old and unattractive is always bad nudity (obviously). But bad nudity doesn’t stop there. Even if one is young and attractive, viewing the naked body isn’t always a pleasure. Watching boobs just “hang around” isn’t a pleasure–no matter how perky they may be. Nudity should be limited to more intimate things such as bathing or gyrating around in a go-go cage. Walking around in a public pool or belt-sanding your kitchen floor are not circumstances that shows off the beauty of a naked body. That’s my little assessment after a week that had way too much nudity.