You like titties. We get it. Stop sharing.

Personally I think he was suffering from a bit of “Internetassumptionmakingism”, to wit, the tendency to assume that anyone on the internet is a. male and b. straight, often in the face of some rather convincing evidence. I’ve run smack into this one myself several times; it doesn’t tweak my antlers much anymore to hear myself referred to as “he” unless I’m someplace where my screenname is blatantly feminine, and I don’t even bother to correct people when they assume I’m straight. (Correcting people who assume I’m lesbian would probably be slightly more fun, but it’s never happened to me.)

But you people are all missing the point here, which is that boobies are purdy. Discuss.

I believe all of you are misunderstanding the effects of enormousflatulatingassholeism.

Any chance we could shift any remaining talk of Mockingbird, heterocentrism, etc. over to the pit thread I opened regarding it (see my previous post) and get back to funbags? Back on the first page somebody asked for fish tits. Here you go.

I believe I already got there, thank you. (The fish tits and the let’s-talk-about-something else, not your thread.)

Now. Boobies! Yay!
Nice picture, but is a mermaid a fish?

Well, you can’t actually see the boobies for the shell garment, so I dunno if I can pass this one. But it is work-safe, so that’s all right.

Where the shit are her nipples?!

I for one would really like to know.

It’s like playing where’s waldo.
Only way cooler.

It’s just like those “magic eye” things. I could never see whatever was supposed to be in those either.

Holy shit, you ain’t kidding! My breasteses just shrunk back inside my chest after seeing that. Right now, I have two big D-cup* sized holes on my chest.

I THINK her nipples are under the those little flowers that don’t match the ones on the bottom.

*(And here I thought I was a C-Cup, until I went bra-shopping this morning. Dammit, do these things EVER stop growing? Jesus!)

The difference is, Where’s Waldo actually involves Waldo.

“Where’s the Tattooed Woman’s Nipple” yields a conclusion of “either this woman has no nipples, or they’re so vividly tattooed you can’t tell them from the surrounding flesh”. Both options are pretty damn scary.

As to the idea they’re under those flowers: Also a scary thought. It somehow doesn’t seem they’re quite in the right place. Shouldn’t they be farther apart?

Mine just sent me a little thought-message: “You do realize that you better not ever even think of doing something like that to us?” Don’t worry, girls.

I’m still looking at the picture. In another minute or so I may start IMing the link to people and asking them to look.

Guinastasia gets the nipple-spotting prize!

Hrm.
http://www. mwscomp.com/sounds/mp3/penisong.mp3
I still like it the way I did it. :smiley:

See, my first response is to ignore all the other data in that sentence and think “Hmmm, D cups…Whee!”

But now I realize my response is heterosexualisticly hegemoniacially um… bad.

So, I would to instead say:
“Those must be large holes in your chest, Guin, you should certainly seek medical attention.”

Phew. Dodged a bullet on that one, eh?

Looks about right.

Vivid tattooing does not seem to squick me out.
But breasts without nipples are like a parade without pickpockets.
It just aint American.

There is something that just doesn’t… track. Then again, there is sometimes a degree of variation in a pair.

It’s just that upon looking at any tattoo on a particularly sensitive part of the body makes me think, “Dear Og, that’s gotta hurt.” Nipples invoke that effect to the highest degree.
And I’m completely in accord - we get enough of the Case of the Missing Nipple from Barbie; no need to have any such thing happen to a flesh-and-blood woman.

Degree of variation, yes. But… ye gods! Her nipples are practically cross-eyed!

I’ll need a single ice cube to verify.

Maybe she’s a victorias secret model. They’re genetically engineered to be nippleless.

I’m quite sure they taste like fish. Does that make them fishes?

That’s a question I’ll leave to the philosophers.

Try telling Barbie that.