Breasts through the ages! Have they changed; will they change? What are they like now? These are important questions. Questions you the reader need to have answered. So, to meet your inquiring mind I set out to get these items answered for you.

We must start in the past. Well, we don't have to start in the past. I could just do the conclusion first and have you read the rest as a bridge. On the other hand, this is not a paper newspaper, and we have some latitude in the stories. So, I will start in the future. I would, but the story really wouldn't flow right from a Western Civilization standpoint. So, I will start in the past. You will, however, know I could have started in the future, but rather just chose to start in the past.

No problem, I walked out my front door into the past. There was a problem: outside my front door it wasn't the past, it was the present. It wasn't even the kind of present you could open. Gosh, how could I get to the past? I asked around. I looked for large breasted women to ask, how I could find the past. They for the most part thought I was trying to say I had a past. They became confused, and wandered off, while I was in mid-sentence. This did not get me into the past, though I did get past asking them questions.

My continuing inquiries on where to learn about the past led me to the library. There I found what I had been looking for! There was a poster announcing that there was a Renaissance Faire taking place this very weekend. A Renaissance Faire is a place where people dress up and pretend to act like it's the 1500's. Of course, its obvious, you learn history from people that dress up and tell you all about it. They must be experts, otherwise they wouldn't be allowed to dress up and tell people about it. I know this is true because a postman once told me this, while I was at a bar.

I would be able to study the past as soon as the weekend came and the fair started. Saturday came late that week. I hopped into my 1946 Cj-2a Willys Jeep (you have to hop; there are no doors) and off to the Ren Faire I sped. I walking toward the gate when a big burly guy, holding a halberd, told me I needed a ticket. I presented him my BEHAVIOR press credentials. I think the fellow had some form of bladder problems as he said he had to "piss off" or something like that. He also brought that halberd across his chest and wouldn't move. Faced with an immobile giant, I did what anybody else would have done: I yelled "it's the Queen!". While he knelt and said "Your Majesty," I ran in the gate.

Now I was in the past. I most certainly was; there were people dressed up in all kinds of weird looking outfits. Oops, my mistake: I was still in the line trying to clear the first set of vendors. (I had been standing behind people from L.A.) Now, for sure, I was in the past. I saw pirate-looking guys and everything. However, I was not there to see pirates. I had to gather information on boobs. Well, maybe the guy dressed as a pirate did qualify? No, not that kind of boob. Ah, there they were, there seemed to be hundreds of boobs. Well, at least two for every women. They were all on display! I was walking down a narrow street, in the midst of a sea of booths. Each booth had a woman in a daringly low cut top, trying to hock her wares. Some of them even were trying to sell stuff from the booth as well. I LIKE THE PAST. Here is what you need to do, even better than just looking around randomly, find a place serving ale. There a nice comely wench will sit you down and you can order an ale or mead. Enjoy the view when she sets the beverage down on your table! Wow, didn't even have to pay for a lap dance! The 1500's, I LIKE THEM. Yes, friend the 1500's are the place to stop and visit boobs. What a heroic past we have, boobs on display in day dresses, boobs falling out of evening dress, boobs just about everywhere, and that even included the pirates. Though it would be easy to wax and wane about the advantages of the 1500's, and its commonality of the low cut top, I did have a story to get done; more research was needed. It was back to the Jeep.

The 1500's was a long time ago. Before we get up to the present, let's look a little closer in the past. With that in mind I went back to the library for more research. Sure enough, there on the bulletin board was a flyer about an American Civil War Reenactment. These reenactments had people dressing up to do mock battle in the American Civil War of the 1860's. Once more I hopped into the Jeep and was off. (No comments about which was off, the Jeep or me.) I arrived at the site. I was headed for the gate when a big burly guy holding a musket told me I needed a ticket. I presented him my BEHAVIOR press credentials. I think the fellow had some form of intestinal problems as he said I could "suck his ass" or something like that. He also brought that musket across his chest and wouldn't move. Faced with an immobile giant, I did what anybody else would have done: I yelled "it's the President!". While he presented arms and said "Mr. President," I ran in the gate.

It was the 1860's. I was in the middle of a sprawling army camp. Cannon, horses, wagons and soldiers. Hey, it was a camp without women! How the devil did the human race continue without females? Then somebody pointed out that there were women dressed as soldiers. This struck me as rather odd and highly convenient at the same time. I was trying to study one of these pseudo-men when a real woman came into view. Brother, did she come into view! As to her build, lets just say, "Damn the Torpedoes, full speed ahead!" The 1860's was indeed a time for proper breast display! Like hold them both up to the light! She was in an evening gown that left no doubt to her bountiful bosom, but did confuse one as to her weight. There was more jiggling and wiggling than you could shake a stick at. It was at that point that they threw me out and told me I couldn't shake sticks at people. However, I had completed my task. The 1860's, though a bit more clothed, was indeed a time of the breast. A time when all men could glory in the light an exposed bosom would reflect, and yet a time of great worry, with many of its women dressed as men.

With the 1860's behind me, it was time for the present. What of that present? I looked around me: shirts that could be worn by a man, and pants are the norm, on women. Dresses are few and far between; worse yet, no bosoms on display! What had happened? Could it be that only the women that dressed as soldiers in the 1860's had reproduced? Where had all the bosoms gone? I asked several of these women, dressed as men, if they had ancestors that were soldiers. They said yes! It must be true: our lack of bosoms today is the result of those women of the 1860's and their desires to be men. This is terrible. Worse yet, what does the future hold? How can I see into the future? I went to the library. The bulletin board was of no help. This person called a "librarian" came over and tried to help me. She said I could look the subject up in a book. A book? Ha, that was funny. I told her I was a reporter and didn't have time for any of these so-called book things she seemed to think were so important.

The future, where could I learn about the future? Then it struck me, you'd have to be pretty smart to know about the future. That means you would need time to think. Who did I know that had time to think? Yeah; Burt. Burt had time to think. He was 33 years old, had never been on a date, and lived in his parents' basement. He had plenty of time to think. I went over to Burt's place and asked Burt about the future. Burt knew about the future. With Burt's help I was able to peer into the future from the present. We watched 17 hours of Star Trek reruns and then Burt told me of the nearby Star Trek Convention, taking place that very day. I was off to the future!

I hopped yet again into my trusty Jeep, and to the future I speed. Upon arrival, I was headed for the gate when a small wimpy guy holding a phaser told me I needed a ticket. I presented him my BEHAVIOR press credentials. He got a scared look on his face and said it was O.K. for me to pass. I was in the future. There was the Starship Enterprise circling Uranus looking for Klingons, and that was just in the bathroom. Leaving the bathroom, the reality of the situation was becoming very clear. There were no breasts to be seen! There was no cleavage! There were no scooping necklines! There were Klingons with exposed "breast" flesh; however, they were the best plastic boobs that money could buy. Oh, no! In the future the only women with boob jobs will have a bone ridge in their forehead! But, my friends, that's not the biggest problem! Oh, no that wasn't the problem. The problem was that no matter the garment, none of the women's nipples were visible. I fled the Star Trek Convention back to Burt's, and for the next three days watched and re-watched every episode of Voyager, DS9, and ST:TNG over and over again. MY FRIENDS - THERE ARE NO FEMALE NIPPLES IN THE FUTURE! No matter what outfit a woman wore she had no nipples! 7 of 9 was in a uniform so tight that you could count her ribs, but there wasn't a nipple to be seen!

My casual study of breasts through the ages has turned into a warning. If we do not act now in the present, the female nipple will disappear in the future. SAVE THE FEMALE NIPPLE! Only through our dedicated actions will we be able to save the female nipple from extinction. I don't know why there are no nipples in the future. I suspect the starting point is those women dressing up as soldiers during the American Civil War. I bet they began the process. Then it just got reemphasized in our own present. Going forward a couple of hundred years, it appears that breasts just won't ever be displayed by women; this leads to the fact that nipples will just fail to develop. Oh, no, that means the entire breast is next!

Let us draw on the good lessons of the 1500's and 1860's to bring nipples and bosoms back into the open. Let us forget and change our women-dressing-as-men ways. We must act now, before it is too late. WE MUST SAVE THE FEMALE NIPPLE. To do this, expose the female nipple whenever possible. Take pictures of it. Keep those pictures and stories of it. Pass these down to your children (over 18) to keep our nipple tradition alive. With your help, not only can there be a female nipple in the future, but perhaps an exposed breast as well. I know that I hope for nipples and exposed breasts in my future; how about yours?

:-P

Bad Irving