Does Size Matter? More to Us than to Our Partners

There is no doubt that size matters to some extent. There has to be some selection pressure that has driven human males to have larger penises and human females to have larger breasts than our closest ape relatives:


But how much it matters is a harder question to answer.

In an interesting pair of survey results, researchers at the University of California added further evidence to support that we are our own worst critics, and that women are harder on themselves. The studies, one about breast satisfaction and the other about penis satisfaction, gave very similar results. The breast survey showed that 70% of women of all ages are unhappy with the size or shape of their breasts. It also showed that 56% of men are happy with the size and shape of their partner's breasts. If they did want their partner's breasts improved, they were about equally divided between whether they wanted them bigger or less droopy. Women were also nearly equally divided about whether they wanted their own breasts bigger or less droopy, but were more than twice as likely to wish their breasts were smaller than men were to wish their partner's breasts were smaller (9% to 4%).

The penis survey showed that 45% of men were unhappy with the size of their penis (almost all, of course, desiring larger), but that 85% of women were very satisfied with the penis size of their partner. If they were dissatisfied with their partner's penis size, most wanted it larger, but not as universally as men. Whereas 45% of men wanted a larger penis, and only 0.2% wanted a smaller one, 14% of women desired a larger penis for their partner, while 2% desired a smaller one. Men picked a larger penis at a ratio of 90 to 1, but women at only 7 to 1.

The take-home message? In general, we agree on the ideals (women's breasts should be larger, perkier, men's penises should be larger--and, well, probably perkier, too, although that wasn't included in the surveys), but we are more apt to obsess on our flaws (or even think of them as flaws) than our partners, which should give us all some measure of comfort.

Limerick of the Week (plus beauty tip!)

The usherette down at the Ritz
Has a marvelous pair of big tits
Which she keeps nice and firm
By massaging with sperm
Whenever her boyfriend permits.

The Claw!

The Claw is our Master!

Saturday Night Creature Feature: The Brain that Wouldn't Die

As panned as this film is, it's really quite compelling. The set-up is basic: your average scientist-doctor-genius (Dr. Cortner) has discovered a way, he thinks, to cheat death and achieve the transplantation of body parts from one person to another. However, in rushing to his secret laboratory in the country with his girlfriend, the smart, attentive, but somewhat frumpy Jan, he gets in an accident. He is thrown clear of the car, but she is decapitated, and her body burns up. Dr. Cortner, is, however, able to save her head and keeps it alive in his laboratory. He promises to look for a new body for her.

At this point, the movie splits into two different narratives. In one narrative, Dr. Cortner goes seeking a new body for his girlfriend. He looks all the places guys might look for the ideal body and in so doing stumbles through the entire culture of men's objectification of women in the 50s: a burlesque, strip, or dance club; a swimsuit competition (to which he is invited. As a doctor he is considered to have a superior knowledge of female anatomy.), and a private swimsuit modeling session where men pay to take pictures in the privacy of the woman's apartment. Thus, the movie foregrounds a lot of fetishist subculture from the day (it even includes some girl-on-girl wrestling that, if not well-coordinated, is titillating), but it goes further. Because Dr. Cortner is looking at these women as potential bodies for his girlfriend, it puts forward the critique that men who engage in these behaviors view the other women in their lives through the lens of their depravity.

Meanwhile, the brain (often referred to as "Jan in the Pan") is awakening to its own power. Freed of its body, kept alive by Dr. Cortner's special solution, she discovers that the can psychically communicate with Dr. Cortner's other experiment. Locked in the closet is a mindless brute, a being put together out of discarded body parts, tremendously strong but horribly deformed. Virginia Leith does an excellent job of delivering her lines with a cold, detached, sinister determination (sometimes she sounds like the Bene Gesserit from David Lynch's Dune). She will free the body in the closet and together they will . . . well, I wasn't quite clear on that, other than kill Dr. Cortner's assistant and thwart the doctor's plan.

That's right--she doesn't want a new body because it will be murder. So when Dr. Cortner shows up with the body he's chosen (the private swimsuit model. She has a beautiful body, but her face has been deformed by a man who abused her trust.) , Jan in the Pan unleashes the deformed creature on him. The creature tears out his throat with its teeth, then rescues the swimsuit model from the laboratory which has been inadvertently set on fire.

The final meaning of the film (if it can be said to have one) probably lies in what interpretation you make of the thing in the closet. Some critics read it as a homosexual reference. Although it's impossible to avoid this reading in this day and age, I don't feel it's a good reading, despite the fact that its head is pretty phallic (and he has only one eye). Dr. Cortner and his assistant refer to it as their mistakes. Does this then mean that a smart woman will turn a man's mistakes against him to prevent his final triumph? Or does it mean that a smart woman, despite her unattractiveness, will fend off a more attractive rival, even if it means destroying the man she loves?

No Platonic Love

Tell me no more of minds embracing minds,
   And hearts exchang'd for hearts;
That spirits spirits meet, as winds do winds,
   And mix their subt'lest parts;
That two unbodied essences may kiss,
And then like Angels, twist and feel one Bliss.

I was that silly thing that once was wrought
   To practise this thin love;
I climb'd from sex to soul, from soul to thought;
   But thinking there to move,
Headlong I rolled from thought to soul, and then
From soul I lighted at the sex again.

As some strict down-looked men pretend to fast,
   Who yet in closets eat;
So lovers who profess they spirits taste,
   Feed yet on grosser meat;
I know they boast they souls to souls convey,
Howe'r they meet, the body is the way.

Come, I will undeceive thee, they that tread
   Those vain aerial ways
Are like young heirs and alchemists misled
   To waste their wealth and days,
For searching thus to be for ever rich,
They only find a med'cine for the itch.

   By William Cartwright

A pretty accurate description of how I came to become the lecher you all know today. I advise anyone to avoid spending years drinking thin gruel and get to main course while you have a healthy appetite.

Checking in with Kelly Brook

It has been some time since we looked at British glamour model (and "star" of the highly anticipated (at least by me) Piranha 3-D), which is a real shame, because not only does she have a killer bikini body:

She's also not the ditsy airhead you might imagine her to be. She not only knows how to make money from her modeling, her lingerie line, her perfume, her celebrity appearances, and her acting--she knows how to manage it, a rare quality in any celebrity.

Since we last checked in with her she has had a successful run starring in Calendar Girls in London, and been voted the seventh sexiest woman by FHM's British readers (American poll results get announced later this month). She has also agreed to pose naked for Playboy (for a half million pounds).

Her most recent ad campaign is, well, I'll let it speak for itself:



And can you believe that in Britain there was a public outcry because her buns were too small in the poster advertising her role in a London production of Calendar Girls?
And she promises good things for Piranha: "It’s just a big, fun B-movie - lots of boobs, blood, gore and drama."

I don't think we can ask for more than that.