Babe: What are you staring at? :mad:
Inigo (in affected Spanish accent): I look. I’ll admit it. I can’t help it. I look at everything. Boobs, butts, faces, flowers, birds, bugs, animals, cars, pedestrians, signs, video screens, etc.
: Smack :
Eh, it’s worth a try.
A lesson my Daddy taught me when he was showing me how to play cards many years ago: if you hold your hand where I can see it, I’m going to look.
I see you’ve met Mom.
Shades, people. Shades. Acquire target, turn head ten degrees to starboard, adjust eyes accordingly, and full-scan at will. Sure, you can develop distraction/quick-glance techniques (a friend of mine has a strategically-placed lighter at the far end of his couch that he likes to ask the ladies for), but why bother when modern fashion has already given us the perfect solution? Ray-Bans: not just for UV anymore; they block things much more dangerous as well.
And then there are those x-ray specs that used to be advertised in comic books.
I’m a naturally shy person. Most of my life, I’ve tended to keep my head down. I was one of those kids in school that always seemed to be (and usually was) looking at his feet. Since then, I’ve made an effort to look people in the face.
I usually don’t look at a woman’s breasts unless they’re abnormally large (IMO, most women are naturally proportioned, no matter the size of their assets), are wearing revealing clothing, or are attacking me with their breasts (i.e. thrusting them out in an awkward fashion).
Tonight, I was watching WWE Raw wrestling. They’re currently having a “diva search”. :rolleyes: They’ve whittled all the entrants down to ten, and fans will apparently be able to vote each one out of the contest until there’s only one left, who gets a WWE contract. (Not to wrestle, just to wear provocative clothing and get into the occasional catfight.)
Now, while all ten contestants are indeed good looking in typical model fashion, I personally don’t find most of them truly attractive to me. Some of them are more personable that others (based on what little we really know of them), and they all have breasts. 
(Some bigger than others but, surprisingly, all relatively humble. But Vince McMahon isn’t averse to paying for any enhancements he or his “divas” think they need.)
What is most interesting is that, as they were being paraded out during the show, I was paying more attention to their outfits than their physical attributes. Granted, some of the outfits were more revealing than others, but I was actually rating their outfits. “That’s a nice one. That’s not bad. That one’s not that great.” And I did the same thing when they were paraded out a second time in bikinis.
At the moment, I only remember four of the ten contestants. The one black woman, who I did find personally attractive; the first girl in line whose two outfits are thought were very nice; a redhead who, while I didn’t find that attractive physically, had a lot of personality; and another who was noticably quite shy and subdued compared to the rest. (I found her quite attractive, and she had a very nice bikini.)
On the subject of breasts and nametags, I went into a convenience store and recognized the girl behind the counter. I had gone to high-school with her but hadn’t really know her personally. Since I’m terrible with names, I asked her what her name was again (while actually trying to appear sheepishly embarrassed). So, she told me her name, but only her first name. (Sadly, I’ve since forgot it again.)
The thing is, I knew her first name, since it was on her nametag. I was hoping to get her last name. Being shy, and embarrassed that she may be thinking I’m an idiot for not seeing her nametag, I didn’t clarify that I was looking for her full name. For the record, she’s quite tall and slim, with proportionally small breasts.
Now, I was just thinking of something. Here’s the situation… I’m at a convention where everyone is wearing nametags. I begin a conversation with a women whose name I do not know (or had forgotten). Of course, she’s wearing a nametag.
But, I ask her what her name is, despite the fact that I’d seemingly seen her nametag. She points to her nametag while giving her name (intentionally or unintentionally embarrassing me). I then comment that I never noticed her nametag, despite staring at her boobs. 
While I don’t necessarly notice a woman’s breasts (I’m more inclined to notice her eyes - swear to Og), I do find breasts to be very interesting aesthetically. In fact, I’ve mentioned to friends that I wouldn’t mind creating a “book of breasts”. That is, a coffee-table book of candid (non-posed/non-studio) photos of topless women from around the world. Just like women, beautiful breasts come in all different sizes and shapes.
Anyhoo…
OK, I proved myself a liar last night. Apparently I won’t turn around in the line at the grocery store to ogle a cute young thing in a crop top behind me. I guess I do have my limits. Drat. I hate when a touch of social politeness creeps in.
I used to be an ogler, and will occasionally indulge briefly (while chuckling self-deprecatingly at the impulses of my inner 14-year-old), but I’ve developed a coping mechanism that makes the urge easier to handle.
Goes like this:
– Hot chick enters field of view.
–I think: Ooo! hot chick!
(Actually, what I think is closer to “Grunt! Grunt grunt!” but no matter.)
–Then I think: I can’t be the only one who’s noticed the hot chick.
–Whereupon I look away from the hot chick and around at the other men in the vicinity, and am amused to see how many of them are staring.
Really, it’s quite funny, a source of real amusement. It’s also a pretty neat trick for how it’s served to mitigate if not the initial involuntary look then at least the need for an extended leer.
I’ll usually take my time oogling and checking out a girls tits if I’m wearing my shades. I’ve learnt not to turn my head, and I can just stare and imagine…
But occassionally, I have done the embarrassing double-take, where my head snaps back towards the girl, and a few seconds later, I notice her boyfriend giving me dirty looks.
I like breasts. But I most often catch myself focusing on asses and hips. Harder for the lookee to catch you.
I will stare at a girl’s face. But not at her boobs. I don’t like boobs.
For the record, while I do have “A Look” which I bestow on those caught enjoying the scenery, it is rather more of the amused, sardonic, “Yes I caught you looking, now whatcha gonna do about it?” tone than “You cad! Out with your eyeballs!!”
I mean, if I piss on every guy who looks, who is going to invite me out to dinner?
Oh, and nametags can be placed higher on the torso than the curve of the cleavage without looking dorky. If she situated that nametag so that you would leer at her, she is not precisely in the position to demand your eyeballs in retribution.
I find that imagination can do wonders for not getting caught. A very quick glance, not even a glance really, can provide fodder for imaginative good time. You can’t be accused of ogling if your eyes are closed.
I know what you mean. I sometimes laugh while watching other guys keep their heads still while their eyes track slowly to one side as the object of attraction walks by.
Of course, this couldn’t really be true. Remember, men and women are really EXACTLY identical. It’s society that has programmed us to watch women and be visually stimulated. You can tell it’s true by how much work education has done to reduce ogling, and how the porn industry has been driven almost out of business as men realize they don’t really like a good-looking woman. It’s just what’s been taught to them by the male oppressive society.
Oh man… this happened to me just last week!
I’m a director in a small-ish construction company. Last week, our customer care guy was out on vacation and I happened to be at the construction site when one of our buyers came in to see the progress on her apartment. She brought along her niece, whom she said would be designing her interiors.
So I showed the niece around the apartment, all the time really trying not to stare at her amazingly low-cut top! It was very difficult, especially when she’d be bending down to check out some detail or the other at floor level. I really had to concentrate on looking her in the eyes while talking to her! And I think she knew it too - foxxy!
I sure am glad our cust. care guy was out last week
I just remembered a TV ad I saw online a few years ago. It was from Singapore and sponsored by their breast cancer foundation to promote awareness of the need for breast self-exams. It showed a very pretty woman walking through downtown, and wherever she went guys kept turning to look at her. After about 30 seconds of this, it cut to their tagline, which was something like “Examining your breasts isn’t hard. Other people do it all the time.”
Now, be honest…
Quick test.
Click here and look for about ten seconds and then see if you can answer the following question.
What color was the kitten? 
Hello, me? Is that you? What am I doing in Toronto?
… I mean besides being a stealth ogler?
I stare at indecent body parts all the time. I know I’m not supposed to, but it happens unconcious-like. I’ll mostly stare at butts and peni.
Butt honestly , if folks are gonna wear things that are meant to attract the attention of the eye - like words or pictures - what do they expect? And if you’re gonna show cleavage what do you expect? It’s just looking, and it doesn’t mean the looker thinks any less of lookee.
Especially if you’re gonna wear writing on your butt. What is up with that fashion. It forces one to stare at another’s butt. I have to conciously and suddenly jerk my head away when I notice I’m reading somone’s ass. It’s worse cuz I’m a chick and only other chicks wear this sort of fashion atrocity.
What kitten?
I have boobs. They’re rather big. I don’t get offended. Taking the rest of the package into consideration, my boobs are really my best feature, you go right ahead and look at 'em. And for the love of Og, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe smile at me when you’re done with the boobs. They have feelings, too!
Of course, if i’m having a conversation with you and have to remind you that the boobs don’t talk back, then it’s a little annoying.
