DDDiary of a Loaded Pair:If Boobs Ruled the World

By Gazonga Gal

For the most part, modern society—from West to East, North to South, and culture to culture, whether defined by church or temple or mosque—is a functioning patriarchy. Current world leaders divine our future with the logic of the lizard brained little head, and form policy based on the wisdom of the testicles, which, much like “The Wit of Karl Rove,” is a very short tome, indeed.

There was, of course, a time long ago, when Mother Earth spun in accordance to the magic rhythms of estrogen and the womb was queen. Female-centric mysticism celebrated the raw energy of nature. Sexuality happily bubbled and hummed in a big, messy stewpot that gave sustenance to one and all. Humans attuned themselves to cycles of sowing and harvest, birth and death. But pumped by the fingers of territorial avarice and licked to a witch-burning frenzy by the subversive tongues of misogynistic superstition cloaked as organized religion, the tide of testosterone, like splooge almighty, overtook the land. And so it has remained for thousands of years, and the dicks are still in charge.

But what if boobs ruled the world? What if we put breasts in the driver’s seat and let balls ride shotgun for a change? Would the world be a better place? Let’s take a look at a few of today’s burning issues and see.

World Hunger. Breasts, though they are genius at titillating salacious minds with thoughts of fun-filled, orgiastic fun-bagged delights, are basically, at least in the sense that nature designed them, food factories. If breasts ruled the world, there would be milk for everyone, and for the lactose intolerant, enough melons and tater-tots to form an endless feast. Problem solved.

Health Care. If boobs ruled the world, universal health care would be a no brainer. Boobs are maternal. The prime directive of boobs is to preserve and nurture the species. Boobs want their kids to grow up and marry a nice doctor, find a cure for cancer, and bring tits and ass comedy back to the BBC. (Yeah, boobs like Benny Hill… no accounting for taste.)

Global Warming. I’m afraid boobs would not be a big help with this one. Boobs like to be warm, and unfortunately, might not be able to grasp the larger issues at hand.

Mutt: I read in today’s paper that the icecaps are melting at an alarming rate. Do you think we should be worried?

Jeff: I don’t think so. We can float, right?

Mutt: Yes, but I’m concerned about the polar bears… Don’t polar bears like to feast on breast meat?

Jeff: Not if we stuff them full of enough melons and tater tots.

Mutt: Ah, yes. I hadn’t considered that. Polar bears do love their tots and honeydew.

Jeff: And casabas. I hear they have a special fondness for casabas.

Mutt: Indubitably… and watermelon.

War. War is not healthy for boobs and other living things. Boobs are not greedy. Boobs are neither power hungry nor territorial. Boobs could not give a hooter which god sits on the throne in your heaven.

In the Dominion of Boobery, we would see world peace. An end to the tyranny of underwire. Unremarked breast feeding in public. International Nipple Appreciation Day. The Sweater Hall of Fame. Cures for cancer, AIDS and testosterone poisoning. And polar bears eating casaba melons and tater tots, while watching re-runs of the Benny Hill Show on the BBC—which strikes me as a small price to pay for world peace, right?