boobs a lot

Earlier this week I posted a paean to natural breasts, which was generally well received (notwithstanding a pair of surgical alteration advocates who somehow tried to turn my personal preference into a statement about society's ill will towards all women who don't look like a fashion model) - that is except for the part where I forgot to mention mouse traps (if you have to ask you haven't been reading comments) . . .

Now, everywhere I look, I see breasts!!!  I don't know if I was catching on to some kind of trend with my subconscious, or if there's just something in the air, but it seems that everywhere I look since then, I see boobs!  It turns out, they are everywhere!

First I was written by my dear friend Cherub, who thanked me for the post, saying it was a nice consolation for the constant looks her own chest seems to attract.  Since I don't have a cast of characters kind of post describing my current (or past) relationship status with the individuals I mention here, I'll just briefly mention that Cherub was a friend, play partner, and girlfriend to Blissful Torment and myself in a tempestuous relationship that lasted the better part of a decade.

With that said, I believe I can (at some small risk) editorialize about Cherub's personal endowments, and say that the glances and stares that she endures are well deserved.  Obviously, I thought she was attractive when we were lovers, and it's my opinion that she's cuter still today.  And, describing her chest, I'd choose to use that now classic Sienfeldian quote . . . "They're real, and they're spectacular."

Cherub knows it too.  Once when breaking up (I did say our relationship was tempestuous didn't I?), sitting on a secluded stairwell with a vast view over the Mississippi River and Davenport, she pulled her shirt down revealing a fancy brassiere cradling her bountiful breasts, and said to me, point blank, "I'll bet you are going to miss these."

I remember looking at her cleavage, glancing up into her eyes, then looking again at the breasts.  I replied by saying a simple, "Yeah" - and then turned back towards the river.  What the fuck else could I say?  It's not like I was could lie . . .

Moving on with my story, after responding to Cherub's note, I opened up Facebook, where I was greeted by an NPR story devoted to . . . Yes, you guessed it, Boobies!

The link on Facebook led me to an article named - Just What's Inside Those Breasts? - a troubling story on how breasts and breast milk reveal the depths of a woman's lifetime exposure to a number of man-made chemicals that are toxic, carcinogenic, and/or endocrine disruptive.  Please go read the article or (better still) listen to the associated 41 minute interview with Florence Williams, author of Breasts: A Natural and Unnatural History.

Sadly, one of the nasties found concentrated in breasts and breast milk is the old villain, phthalates.  I've written about the dangers of pthalates in sex toys, as have many other sex bloggers.  When Ms Williams discusses her inability to reduce her body's load of phthalates despite adapting a vegan diet and a whole host of other lifestyle changes, I can't help myself from wondering if she's aware of, and avoiding, potential phthalate exposure from adult toys . . .

Finally, when opening up tumblr just moments ago, I found the large Boobies are Beautiful illustration that initiates this post.

Yes indeed, I'm not the only one with breasts on my mind . . .