Two Boobs Good, Four Boobs Better!

Keep an eye one the worker of the year just over the reporter’s right shoulder.

What a guy.

Just chillin', little bit of illin'

Now I know what you’re thinking, how many Irish women are named Crystal?

Well, one at least.  This woman in fact.  Speaking of facts, here’s a fun fact about Crystal:

Crystal loves to wear shiny red underwear and lay about on the bed just waiting for a suitable person to come along and snap her.*

Now, I know what you’re thinking, how many Irish women named Crystal like to do a thing like that?  Well, odds tell us that there has to be at least 1.

Her interior designer went for the minimalist look

Here’s another fun fact about Crystal:

• Crystal is Gaelic and translates to “Girl in red undies”.  It comes from the time of the Vikings when they wished to find an Irish woman who would wear red undies that they had plundered from their travels.  Their psychic foretold of a woman who would do it.  Crystal would be her name.**

Now I know what you’re thinking, how many Nordic psychics did the Vikings have?  We’re pretty sure they had at least one, and considering their prediction was right on the money in this case, we’re also pretty sure he or she was good at their job.

There's more than one side to our Crystal

Now I’m no expert on photographing hot women in red undies, but I’m pretty sure that you have to take many things into consideration.

The most important being showcased here.  She’s obviously used the wrong detergent in her wash and parts of her undies have disintergrated into nothing more than a string.

This would mean that you’d have to get the angle just right.

We think she’s nailed it.

I know what you’re thinking, how many women would be so careless to use the wrong washing instructions for their undies?  More than we’d think.  But we can’t judge.  One time we washed our new white bed sheets and didn’t notice that there was a red sock in there.  Now we sleep in a bed that looks like My Little Pony vomit.

C’est la vie.

Photography courtesy of Celtic Glamour.

* May not be actually true.

**  May be actually less true than the first one.

Considering this is all fake, it’s bloody fucking brilliant.

First time I saw it I thought it was really happening.  Then I found out it wasn’t and I was sad.  I cried on the inside, like all men should.

Via WormyTV

Converse shoes are awesome.

Their design is timeless and they have a universal recognition both in appearance and in cultural placement.

Whether in classic black and white, or red and white, you instantly know what they are when you see a pair of them.  What could possibly make them any more incredibly man-tastic?  Flames, bitches.  That’s what.

Love the flames

Yes, you can rub your eyes all you want, but everytime you open them you’ll still be faced with the greatest sight in footwear since the sandal and socks.

I say that because men have unsightly feet and should always have them covered up, even in sandals.  Unlike women who like to tease with a pedicure and painted toes while wearing them.

Yes, the only thing that could make a pair of sandals worn by a sexy pair of women feet at all better would be if they had flames on them.

You know why else they’re awesome to the max?  Because I have a pair of them, that’s why.  I pestered and pestered my woman for a pair of them and then one Christmas morning Santa brought them to me because my woman was going on about “being made a show of” in public.  As if.

Unlike a woman who swoons over a new pair of animal print stilettos and tries to convince you that they’ll go with everything and she’ll wear them everyday and never need another pair of shoes, these bad boys actually deliver.

You can wear them to work, presuming you’re one of the 7 people left with a job.  You can wear it to the dole office, if you want to get your dole cut for making everyone else insanly jealous.  You could wear them to a wedding, tux and all.  You’ll get more bridesmaid boobies than you can shake a shitty stick at.  You could wear them to a funeral and get lots of hot widow tail.

As the priest says:

“Old Jasper would have loved to have been here to witness for himself that magnificent pair of shoes.  Interesting fact, Judas betrayed Jesus because he wanted Jesus’s pair of flame Converse.  Bless you my child.”

Is it possible? They're even more awesome than the first ones

The only thing that could make them better?

How about all black with flames on them?  I know, but try and control your erections for just a minute.

You could be a ninja in shoes like that.  A sweet ass fanny wetting ninja at that.  Samurai or Kill Bills would never come anywhere near you in these shoes.  In fact when battling with some Shaolin Monks who are trying to kung fu your face off, you can just smack them with these ball stompers.  They’d be too busy meditating and trying to get their sandals to combust, so you’d defo get away with it.

Men, you have a duty to fashion.  You don’t want to be worrying about what ever Ronan Keating was pictured wearing in VIP magazine.  You want them to be worrying about what they’ll do when you show up to rock their world in a pair of these.

I’ve been thinking about what could make these any more kick ass, and I don’t think I could do much.  We could put some go faster stripes on them, or a couple of spoilers, but that would be a bit wanky.  Awesome, but wanky.

I have a pair of these and everytime I wear them, other men come up to me in the street and offer me their daughters.  They just want to have these shoes in their house and don’t care that I’ll be doing stuff to their daughters while wearing them.  Because that’s another appropriate time to wear them, during sex.  Sometimes the women will just want to dry hump your foot, but that’s easily dealt with.  Just let them wear them for a minute and they’ll be so slippery that they won’t even mind the discomfort from your massive four incher.  They might even experience the urban myth that is the female orgasm.

Get yourself a pair of these if you can, although you may have to start with a basic pair and work your way up to the maximum level of greatness.

Converse Ireland – Starting at around €50

I'd buy that for a dollar. Or seven thousand dollars for that matter.

If I was going to invent the world’s most advanced and life-like sex doll, I would inevitably spend many, many months trying to decide who she would look like. Would you go for the classic beauty of Zeta Jones (in her youth, of course) or for the full-on sluttiness of Pammy? Perhaps you’d create her in the image of your favourite glamour model?

Would it be Lucy Pinder, Keeley Hazel, Chanelle, Jakki Degg or whoever awakens your winky. The list would be long and you would be endlessly weighing up the pros and cons of the many models in contention. This, of course, is what you expect any man who decides to invent sex doll would do.

So a enormously big WTF? goes out to Douglas Hines, the New Jersey inventor who has gone and created the world’s most advanced and life-like sex doll. There were no glamour models or porn stars or even Family Album underwear models on his list. Either he fucked up badly on the facial design component of his model or he purposely chose to make it look like…. Catherine Tate?

The Catherine Tate Sex Doll. Requires 4xAAA batteries (not supplied)

This ain’t no cheap piece of man-made meat either. With a price tag of $7000, you really have to stop and wonder what the hell Hines was thinking. Just imagine what your average sex fiend could do with all that money. He could have sex with seven thousand-dollar-hookers. He could have sex with seventy hundred-dollar-hookers. Hell, he could even have sex with a thousand seven-dollar-hookers and every one of them would be better looking than Catherine Tate. Hines claims to have over 4000 pre-orders for his new sex doll. However, judging by what we’ve seen today, I think he going to have more than a few disappointed customers.

Am I bovvered?

Eh… no,  and neither am I.

Some people would have you believe that we aim to objectify women and their boobs here on boob.ie.  That simply isn’t true.

We aim to celebrate women and all their boobie glory.

We love everything about women.  Their boobs, their judging eyes, their bums, their icy stares, their feet, their periods.  Why?  It makes their boobies bigger.  At least that’s what Jonno told us round the back of the shops today during little break.  We like Jonno, he tells us all we need to know about women.  If it wasn’t for him we’d all be in detention doodling pictures of boobies, just trying to wonder what they’re like.  That’s not good, before you know it you start doodling cocks and all sorts.  And the more pricks you doodle, the more you become a doodling prick.

We also love women’s brains.  Brains are a wonderful things altogether.  They make the women who they are.  Intelligent, powerful, independent wonders who make us all want to be better people.  But women, by default, have boobs.

Men are strange creatures, we love boobs.  God knows why, but God knows we do which is why he gave women boobs.  God gave women brains to stimulate us in the brain and the fuzzy place inside, and he gave them boobs for other stuff.  Now we all know that nature intended boobs to be used to feed babies.  But like an addict or a priest always after a little crack, we’re always after some boob.

I can’t stress this enough, we love women’s brainy bits as well as their lady bits.

Having said that, which one would we rather look at?

Yeah, that brain is hot!

This here is an illustration of a cross sectioned woman and her sexy brain.  Look at it there all full of intelligence and interesting conversation starters.  How could you not love it?  We’ll tell you how.  If you were nothing more than a chauvinistic pig who can only look at pictures of women’s breasts (the grown up name for them) instead of actually get to touch one through showing genuine interest in what a woman has to say and get to know who she is, or at least some creative initiative, that’s how.

Shame on you if you are one of these uninventive or impatient people.

Now, a man’s brain looks nothing like this.

Oddly we couldn’t find an image to properly convey the male human brain, but Jonno tells us it’s like this one, only bigger and used more.  We don’t believe him though.  He’s 24 and still repeating the foundation Leaving Cert.

And so for that reason, we have to go with popular belief that a woman’s brain is just as big and used as a man’s brain.  But that’s not the point.  Our point is, which would you rather look at?

Yeah, it's alright. But it's no brain

This here is a photographic example of a cross sectioned woman and her boobs.

Nice, isn’t it?  I’ll bet even the hardest to convince ignoramus can admit that this is nice for looking at.  And why?  Because under all of that is the kind of sexy brain featured above that would surely reject us if we ever offered to buy her a pint of Fat Frog in Coppers.

The power of the female brain far surpasses the power of the male boob lust.

The common female with boobs and/or feelings and opinions is a strong figure, one that needs no defending.  They know that they are more than just objects, or various glorious objects put together by nature.  They know that we are pathetic little worms who will never get to see a pair of boobs like that in real life, so why not let us dream?

Even women with huge brains dream about things like commitment, intimacy, cushions, shoes, handbags and a threesome they’ll never admit to wanting.  And when they can’t get them they read about them in their own magazines and fave sites.

Do we judge?

No, of course not.

We don’t want to objectifiy women, or any part of them?  Not like Jonno who will probably end up as a suspect in one too many missing persons cases, nuff said.

No, we want to celebrate the female form, no matter what shape or size it comes in.  We also want to celebrate how wonderful women are in everyway.  Personally we’d love it if women looked at sites and magazines of naked men and willies.  We wouldn’t think it was degrading at all, we’d all be scrambling to be part of it.  After all, who wouldn’t want to show off their massive 4 incher to all and sundry?  Imagine the fame and fortune that would come from a temporary measure to put ourselves through college?

We’re not objectifying women, but if that’s what you thought we’re sorry.

Besides, what landed in our mailbox earlier today proves that we’re not even the worst offender:

That's disgusting. Awesome, but disgusting

Why is this disgusting?  Because it suggests that women’s breasts and nipples are play things.

Why is it awesome?  A woman is wearing it suggesting that she wants her nipples played with.  Also because another woman is giving it a go.  But mostly because under that shirt is obviously a great pair of intelligent boobs.

And what kind of sophisticated brain wouldn’t appreciate such a layered take on modern society?  I tell you who does get it, women.  And that’s why they’re awesome.

So once again, dear readers and people who don’t like us and reckon we should all be taken out and shot with an aids gun, we’re sorry.

And we forgive you.

Just ask yourself – Side boob or side brain?

What's the safety word?

I should be looking at the girls, but what are the other two up to?

Yes it does

um....

Om nom nom

The voices told me to

Like the good old days

It'd probably actually work

Remember the fear

For the articles

There's nothing super about being ginger

Send the stuff you find to us – [email protected]

Our first phone call stitch-up goes to a dear friend of mine, so hopefully he’s not reading this. If you don’t feel like taking any calls today or even just want a few hours peace from whatever creditors are hunting you down, then set up the call divert on your mobile to the number below. I’m sure Ciaran will be simply delighted to take all your calls for you!

That number is: 087 7733084

For more on our Daily Diverts check out this

Director – Michael “Blow the world up, watch them burn” Bay

Executive Producer – Stephen “The powers of my genius are in my beard” Speilberg

Cast -
Fuck head
Megan Foxy
White stereotypical hero soldier
Black stereotypical “Say what?” soldier
Latin stereotypical says everything in Spanish soldier
Ginger soldier, there’s always one
Bernie Mac’s ghost
Inspector Ned Kenny from “The General”
Some hot Australian chick
One of Jim Carrey’s black sons from “Me, Myself and Irene”, except he’s lost a lot of weight
Original Optimus Prime
Jesus from The Big Lebowski
Shit load of army dudes
Shit load of Transformers

Story -
Right, so the Transformers lost their Rubix cube wotsit and they think they left it down the back of our couch. They want it back, but are fighting over it. The good Transformers want to use it for good and prove they can solve the puzzle. The bad Transformers couldn’t be arsed and want to rip all the stickers off and put them back on to look like they’ve solved it proper, hence looking like they’re all that.
Fuckhead gets caught in the middle.

Review -
The Transformers come to Earth in search of their Rubix cube and they need the help of Fuckhead.
In the meantime, the army has it’s head up it’s arse because a bad Transformer has already ripped them a new one. They would have seen it coming, but white soldier was too busy Skyping his missus and black soldier dude was off at a bbq. Latin soldier was confusing everybody with his Spanish and ginger soldier was fuck all use to anybody because he had sunburnt himself and was peeling like a bitch.

Transmera, '97, Taxed til March, needs some work. Occasionally turns into giant space robot. Runs well. $4000 or will swap for Megan Fox's worn thongs.

Fuckhead goes to by a new car from Bernie Mac’s ghost and the car he buys turns out to be his very own Transformer. The Transformer is in the form of some famous old American car, but it’s the equivalent of a Nissan Almera circa 1997.
Fuckhead takes his Transmera to a lake party to pick up the bonerific Megan Foxy and to the astonishment of the civilised world, it works.

Just give me 3 minutes alone with her

Later that night, the Transmera does a runner to a random, vague warehouse/plant/shipyard type place, and turns into a giant that is so spectacular George Lucas gets a hard on just thinking about the invoice he’ll do up for ILM’s work on it.
Fuckhead gets arrested. Happy days.

The next day, Fuckhead gets chased by his Transmera to some disused area under a motorway and looks for help from the poh-leece. But, the poh-leece car turns out to be a big evil Transformer, and asks him about his Ebay account. This is why you can’t run away from negative seller info on Ebay, it’ll always come back to kick your ass. Fuckhead doesn’t know what’s going on, but Megan Foxy turns up and then the Transmera turns up and takes Fuckhead and Megan Foxy away from the poh-leece.
The poh-leece car chases the Transmera and just as you think you’re watching an episode of “Police, Camera, Tallaght!”, the two cars change into giant robots and kick the b’Jesus out of each other.
The Transmera wins, and takes Fuckhead and Megan Foxy to safety. In a moment that cinema should be ashamed of itself for, Megan Foxy climbs onto Fuckhead’s lap, where he probably had a chubby.

Just then, Michael Bay realises he has sponsors to keep happy and makes the Transmera turn into a sexier Ford Focus circa 2006, the Transfocus.

Transfocus, 1 owner, repossessed from a celtic tiger banker now living with his mother, best offer secures

The Transfocus takes them to meet the rest of the Transformers and we see the kick ass Optimus Prime and the rest of the posse. The original Optimus Prime has come out of voice actor retirement and made geeks soil themselves.

Optimus Prime is a suped up Harris Hino, and the rest of his buds turn into whatever cars belong to whatever sponsors have made Michael Bay their bitch. There’s also a Mr Whippy van in there somewhere.

They tell Fuckhead that his grand daddy’s glasses hold the key to finding which couch their Rubix cube is hidden down. They go to Fuckhead’s house to find them.

In the meantime, the army are trying to figure out who attacked them in the desert, and a hot Australian chick tells them that it’s aliens. They don’t believe her. So she goes to get Jim Carrey’s formerly fat son from “Me, Myself and Irene” and he also thinks it’s aliens. They go and see Inspector Ned Kenny from “The General” and he asks them what they talkin’ bout Willis.

While this is going on, the four soldiers are being attacked in a different part of the desert. Lots happens and the ginger gets eaten by the evil transformer that’s kicking arse. The soldiers win and go home to see Inspector Ned Kenny.

Back at Fuckhead’s house where he searches for the glasses.
They get a knock at the door at a time when you think it might be a very inappropriate time for a Jehovah’s witness to call, but it’s one better. It’s Jesus himself, well The Jesus from “The Big Lebowski”, and he’s not happy.
He tells everyone that “nobody fucks with The Jesus”, because he works for a secret government agency. He arrests everyone including the houseplants.

Right so then all this happens, pay attention:

The Jesus threatens Fuckhead and Megan Foxy.
Optimus Prime, The Transfocus, the Mr Whippy Van and the rest of them turn up to save Fuckhead and Megan Foxy and to harass The Jesus. But no one fucks with The Jesus.
More dudes from the secret agency turn up and resurrect The Jesus from the lamp post he’s tied to.
They capture the Transfocus and take it away to the Hoover dam, where the Rubix cube and the big cheese of the evil Transformers have been since long before the fillum started. The Jesus and Inspector Ned Kenny take Fuckhead and Megan Foxy into the dam and show them the daddy of the bad Transformers, Mega Ron. And much to Mega Ron’s frustration, he’s been right beside the Rubix cube all these years. Ain’t that always the way?

Mega Ron is just chillin’, lil bit of illin’ when Fuckhead convinces The Jesus to let the The Transfocus go from the most invasive NCT ever.

The Transfocus takes the Rubix cube and sticks in his pocket, they all give a finger to the Mega Ron and do a runner. They’re too late, because the rest of the evil Transformers eventually turn up to the fillum having taken a wrong turn with their sat navs.

For the rest of the fillum, Michael Bay blows shit up, Fuckhead does a lot of running, Megan Foxy gets sweaty and drives a toe truck, because trust a poxy Ford to break down when it’s needed most. The soldiers all do instantly forgettable stuff, and still get signed up for the sequel. The Transformers kick seven shades of shite out of each other trying to get their hands on the Rubix cube, that Fuckhead is running around with.
With no more appearances from the hot Australian or The Jesus, Fuckhead takes charge like a teacher in a playground. He takes the Rubix cube and declares that if they can’t share it, then no one will play with it and locks it away in a chest. Mega Ron throws a world class shit fit and dies from tantrum seizures.

Optimus makes a cheesy speech about honour and bravery while holding a piece of Mr Whippy Van in each hand, cos he was ripped apart by the evil Transformers. Personally I think he shouldn’t speak at Mr Whippy’s funeral if that’s the best he could come up with.

Mega Ron is dumped in the sea which leaves it wide open for a sequel, if not with the rest of the Transformers, then maybe in “Finding Nemo 2, Dori comes out”.

Everybody is about to live happily ever after when Megan Foxy straddles Fuckhead on the Transfocus and I want to kill everyone in a 5 mile radius.

Optimus Prime says something that in no way hides the notion of a sequel, it went something like, “We’re making a second one”.

Verdict -
Megan Foxy and the hot Australian needed more scenes together, maybe having a fight. In custard. Apart from that, the movie rocks the house.