Have you ever noticed that you can never go to a sporting or concert event, or for that matter, anywhere where women are present without hearing a guy commenting on breasts? Now I don’t mean to get off on a rant here, but I think most guys today are too obsessed with upper appendages of our female counterparts.

Now don’t get me wrong, I like breasts in all shapes, sizes, and breeds. I mean, when was the last time you grilled up a nice chicken breast, marinated, and covered in some Montreal spicy seasoning? My point is, you can admire and enjoy something without having to verbally and physically point it out every couple of minutes. Why must some guys feel it necessary to point out each girl in the crowd and comment on their chest? I just don’t get it. Is it that exciting for them to bore people with the same redundant remarks about what they’d love to do to this girl, and what shirt that girl would look better in?

At Woodstock last summer, I think I saw more breasts than one would see in a medical exam center, and can honestly say that I had my proverbial fill. But what about those who NEEDED to see more? Those who had to take rolls and rolls of pictures to “cherish the memories?” Those who felt the need to pull and grab at the girls who surfed by in the crowd and then chant “show your t***” to the other girls? My friend Jackie got on a guy’s shoulders to watch DMX, but when she didn’t take her top off, she was jeered, booed, and yelled at to get down.

How about at normal concerts? Why must these testosterone filled, hormone enraged children feel the need to scream for Gwen Stefani to take her top off? I’m not quite sure, but they usually shut up pretty fast if you give them the proper stare down. And how bout them security guards? They’re there to protect and serve, not tell girls to flash them. Taking pictures at shows, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen fellow photographers and security ask girls to flash them. I once even saw a girl begging a guard for water because she was going to pass out. After she declined to lift her top, he poured water in her mouth and all over her chest, much to the satisfaction of him and his buddies.

Just last week at the Y100 FEZtival, aside from having Vandermarsh’s finger pointing in every direction, I had these guys, who were obviously in their 30’s, yelling and signaling for girls to take their shirts off. Now, if that didn’t get me riled up enough, these girls were about 15 or 16 years old. If I didn’t want to see STP and No Doubt badly enough, I surely would’ve said something to these asses, if not dump them on their heads.

My point is that guys need to start looking at a women for who they are, not what they have. You can judge and marry a girl for being “36-24-36” now, but what about 10 or so years down the line when she’s “36-30-42?” I’m not saying you shouldn’t admire vanity, but as Al Pacino said in his role as the devil in Devil’s Advocate, “Vanity…defiantly my favorite sin.” Guys take it easy and keep dreaming. You can imagine all that you want, but just don’t let me have to hear it. As Rufus the 13th Apostle once said, “If you don’t pipe down, I’m gonna yank your sack off like a paper towel.” That’s just my opinion, I could be wrong.