Bust relief

Heart-warming news from Germany: a man was persuaded to end his high-rise protest by a topless photo of his wife. There are so many positive aspects to this story that it’s difficult to know where to begin. First and foremost, it shows the power of the female bosom as a force for good. The woman concerned was a retired exotic dancer and mother of five. The fact that her breasts were still irresistible to her husband after years of continuous suckling sends a message of hope to all prospective mothers. Even after the most rigorous udder service, your sugar dumplings will still be able to lure the man in your life down from the top of a telegraph pole.

The incident also illustrates the innate rationality of the human male. The man was protesting about an impending jail term for what he claimed was a wrongful conviction. The picture of his wife’s hooters jolted him into a clear-headed assessment of the alternatives facing him. He could either spend his remaining days of freedom rubbing his hands together on a makeshift crow’s nest or rubbing his face against the fun cushions of his frisky spouse. Faced with such a choice, commonsense had to prevail.

I fervently hope that Frau Poledancer will remain true to him while he’s serving his 15-month sentence. Wouldn’t it be terrible if such an inspiring tale were to end in bathos and ignominy, with the valiant wife running off with some grubby hack who paid her 5,000 euros for the story? Were I a neighbour, I would offer to reside in the family home as a chaperone. Not many men have the nerve to try and slip one in when a gorilla is watching their every move.

Now quite a few ladies resent the male breast-fixation, arguing that a woman is more than a walking pair of tits. I can see what they’re getting at, but maybe they’re being oversensitive. I can’t think of a single woman who was appreciated only for her boobs. Barbara Windsor, the saucy cockney actress, had a charming giggle and the ability to memorise lines. Dolly Parton, the petite southern belle, was a talented singer and celebrated philosopher. Elizabeth Hurley, the ex-paramour of Huge Grant, has a very attractive face and the kind of plummy accent that makes a certain kind of man go weak at the knees. As a gorilla, I have never once fantasised about a woman in stiletto heels walking over my body. But if it were forced upon me, I would probably ask Liz to do the honours.

Breasts, as such, are neither good nor bad. It all depends on how they are used. Back in my circus days, I remember the knife-thrower’s assistant offering various intimacies to raise cash for a worthy charity. A kiss on the face cost £1, a French kiss cost £100 and a feel of both boobs (from behind) cost £1000. Little did she know that Rick Moranis, the millionaire actor, would be visiting the circus that afternoon. Moranis intended to make a contribution of £1000, yet was too embarrassed to capitalise on his good fortune by copping a feel of the young lady’s melons. He offered to take her on a dinner date instead. She was so charmed by his gentlemanly behaviour that she gave him not only breasts – but wings, drumsticks and parson’s nose – in the bedroom of his hotel suite.

Do men prefer women with large breasts? No, they only think they do. Smacker Ramrod, the circus vet, was always lusting after big-bosomed wenches, yet the woman he married had small ones. He confessed to me that he adored her little cupcakes because they made her look sweet and girly. It seems that breasts of all sizes have their attractions: large ones are maternal and facilitate safe sex (when suitably oiled); medium ones fit nicely into a man’s hands; small ones have a desirable virginal quality. I am personally convinced that most women who undergo cosmetic bust surgery have no need of it. It’s only required in rare cases, like that of Miss Chokesondick.

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