I have been a 34-C for about 5 years now. Oddly, but as I’m sure you will all - as women of a certain age - understand, I had come to really identify as such. I was a 34-C. I was of slightly-larger-than-average-but-nothing-unusual proportions. At 5′0″ (in shoes), I figured 34-C was more than adequate for my small frame.Cut to a few months ago when I start noticing that my bras don’t fit. The band is fine, but my breasts are literally spilling out of the cups. What gives?

I thought, well, my bras are all over a year old. Maybe they’re just…shrinking? Do bras do that? So I got myself to the store and lo and behold, none of the 34-Cs fit. Finally, I picked up a 34-D. Ha ha, I laughed. There is no way that 34-C me is suddenly a freaking D-cup. No way in hell.

And yet–I was. The 34-D fit perfectly.

I was hit with a weird and unexpected mini-identity crisis. I was…a 34-D? But I’m a 34-C! Or…I was. I called my boyfriend to complain, but as soon as I said the words 34-D, he cheered. I mean, he literally cheered. And then I hung up. Read More »

I’ve heard the woes from people with cup sizes that are hard to manage. I understand; nobody wants the back pain or the difficulty finding clothes that fit. I, on the other hand, am on the other end of the spectrum. I hit puberty early, was a head taller than everyone in my class for a while, but never got to enjoy the other benefits of those raging hormones. You know…like, breasts.

My mother continually assures me that I’m lucky. “Dresses fit you so well,” she tells me. That’s easy for her to say; I imagine most mothers, deep down, want to dress their daughters in conservative dresses that leave a lot to the imagination, but leave me looking like I’m wearing a sack on top.

Forget showing off cleavage; it’s pretty hard when you barely have cleavage. I don’t mind looking nice in the occasional baggy shirt for a job interview, but how is a flat-chested girl supposed to look Hott? Read More »

Breasts. Boobs. Tits. Ta Tas. Chi Chis. Fun-bags. Melons. Along with a few hundred different epithets, they come in a variety of colors, shapes, and sizes. And thanks to the wonders of plastic surgery, there’s even more variety to be had in the size department. Just ask Sheyla Hershey, the woman who was recently denied her 9th boob job. Hershey’s dreams to move up from a FFF-cup to a GG were dashed because apparently, America, the country that has no concept of “moderation” has established a legal limit for silicone.

When I was in 8th grade, I went from flat-as-a-board to a large C in a matter of months; when I discovered binge drinking in college, my Freshman Fifteen accumulated in my breasts, and I was busting out of 36 DD bras, but refused to buy anything bigger because I felt like a freak. Over the past year, a strict cardio regimen has reduced my girls to a 34 DD, but I still long for the old days: a perky pair no bigger than a handful. That being said, why Miss Hershey would intentionally strive for the “World’s Biggest Breasts” is beyond me. Read More »

At last: all my social problems have been resolved. Gone, for me, are the days of shyness, the empty nights, the nagging sense that I and my lowly breasts do not have anything to offer the world. No - these days, I’m the most popular girl on campus, with a sparkle in my eye, a spring in my step, and a blood alcohol level that is always just high enough to keep me from operating heavy machinery. What brought on this miraculous change, you ask?

Why, it’s the Wine Rack, a bra stuffed with inflatable polyurethane cups to be filled with the liquor of one’s choice. To paraphrase the immortal Fergie, I’m going to get, get, get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump(s). And I now have a spigot on my chest designed specifically for that purpose. Read More »

• Jezebel unveils the red carpet looks that never were.

• A little less Panic !!! at the Disco.

• Who Gave What to Whom? - Celebrity Political Contributions.

• Cutting it Close : The Hottest Hair Trends of 2008.

• Have you ever been embarrassed by your breasts?

• Kirsten Dunst poses for Miu Miu… signs pact with the devil.

It’s Friday. I’m tired, you’re tired and it was Halloween this week which means we all have hangovers to get over! Sigh. After work/exams/class of course.

So here is a little gossip to keep your blues at bay until the weekend finally comes!

• Ashley Olsen was spotted sucking face with Lance Armstrong at an NYC Hotel Bar on Monday. Apparently, they left together around 2 am. This Sunday, Lance will be partying down with his foundation at the restaurant where I work and if Ashley Olsen shows up, I might just pee my pants. (NY Post)

• Roberto Cavalli confirmed to the press that J.Lo is prego and he has been designing clothes for her as she grows. All this took place at the launch of his new Vodka. Yes, Vodka. Now we all knew J.Lo was preggers but what I want to know is why Roberto Cavalli is selling vodka. Last time I checked, fashion designers and disterllies had little in common. (People)

• The Catholics are fired up at Britney for pictures appearing in her new CD. In one, Britney is confessing, in the next she’s sitting on the priests lap. It’s about the only press she is getting from her new album since Jive has totally given up on her doing any promo for Blackout. And the courts agree she is still a bad mom. Oh, Britney. (ET Online, NY Daily News) Read More »

Hooters? Depressing? You don’t say. All I’ve ever had to do was take a look at the horrible orange and white paint job adorning the outside of most Hooters restaurants to know those places are a bevy of bad taste and depression.

Oh yeah, and fifteen year olds.

In my town, Hooters was the place adolescent boys with fake IDs and too much cologne spent their Friday nights when no one their own age would date them.

Hooters was the place high school’s biggest assholes went to feel superior to women who would never look at them in real life, as well as the place a friend’s friend once tried to work at but quit after some perv threw a popcorn shrimp at her boobs.

In conclusion: Hooters is drenched in grossness. Read More »

• Men tend to enjoy breasts. And according to the (female) author…we shouldn’t blame them (or show them). (Yahoo!)

• What if Apple never existed? What would hipsters identify themselves by (technologically speaking, of course)? (Yahoo!)

• Blast From the Past: On her 2006 tour, Amy Winehouse needed beer, wine, vodka, pizza…and sober roadies (to carry her to bed). (Smoking Gun)

• All I can picture is a team of high school football players high fiving the kid involved in this. Also, this. (Idahostatesman.com)

• Wait, so this weed was found underwater and it’s still worth over a million dollars? Lucky fisherman. (citizen.co.za)

Joe Francis is more than just a sleazebag rich kid who cajoles drunk girls into making out and flashing their boobs.

He’s more than a crybaby who had a panic attack in jail and was tied up in his own home. He’s more than an obnoxious frat boy in a designer suit.

Joe Francis is a good guy.

At least according to Joe Francis.

Meetjoefrancis.com is the Girls Gone Wild creator’s new online endeavor to show the world that his past behavior was all a misunderstanding…something he’s been plagued by his whole life.

“I’m excited to have this opportunity to introduce myself to you personally.” Francis writes on his homepage.

“Over the years, I’ve gotten used to being misunderstood.”

“From as early as the first grade, when a teacher’s aide took offense at my efforts to get her attention by putting a tack on her chair, to more recently, when a certain Southern judge took a relentless interest in putting me behind bars, it seems that I have been in a constant struggle just to be understood as a regular guy trying to get by in life.”

Putting a tack on someone’s chair to get attention? More like putting a tack on someone’s chair to watch them sit on a tack and laugh. Read More »

We all know insipid magazines like Cosmo and Redbook give men the impression the women are all about “Impressing Them in Bed!” and “Finding That Position That Makes Our Orgasms Last for 78 Minutes!!” and “Shoes!!!”

But have you ever wondered what guy mags like Stuff and FHM say about us? One women thinks they teach dudes to objectify us.

How groundbreaking.

Rosie Boycott, a former editor for Esquire magazine and freelance journalist for the Daily Mail says that men’s magazines are becoming more and more sexually explicit, and the women allowing themselves to be photographed are partially responsible. Read More »