Operation: Japanese D-Cup
I’d like to share a revelation that I’ve had during my time here.
One night I was up late watching some TV show about sex in society. This particular episode was about breast sizes. It claimed that Japanese women’s breasts have been getting bigger over the past 10 years. They pointed out that there are fewer A-cups and more B and C-cups than there used to be. Keep in mind that Japanese sizes are one cup below American, so a Japanese B-cup is an A-cup, and a Japanese A-cup means she has the chest of a little boy. They speculated that the cause is the introduction of more foreign foods into Japanese women’s diets, particularly McDonalds (brings a whole new meaning to Super Size Me). They also speculated that by the year 2008, there would be no more A-cups in Japan, and more B and C-cups. D’s even. The men on the show were, needless to say, thrilled about this.
Japan is a breast-loving country. This is the one thing I have in common with Japanese men. Another entry on my list of Japanese oxymorons: the men here love breasts but the women just don’t have them. I’ll see a C-cup every now and then, but it’s pretty rare. It’s actually kind of depressing, but I’m learning to live with it. With pretty much any girl who develops a decent set, her family may as well just pull her out of school because she’s got a career as an actress/model/porn star guaranteed. In fact, the only big-breasted girls I see are the ones on TV. It makes me think that Japan sends out scouts to scour the cities, plucking young, ample-breasted maidens off the street and rushing them to Tokyo to wear bikinis and bend over a lot in front of cameras.
This is also why anime is filled with large breasted 14-year-olds. It fulfills two Japanese male fantasies at once: the Lolita thing and the boob thing.
One day I was in the teachers’ room at school, looking out the window at the schoolwide Sports Day practice. The kids were doing these human pyramids – getting on their hands and knees, stacking themselves five, even six levels high. I looked at the poor girls on the bottom, or anywhere really, and I thought to myself, “That can’t be good for their bodies.” Then it hit me. People blame Japanese genetics for the lack of tits and ass, but I don’t think that’s it at all. I think they’re doing it to themselves.
Bear with me here. Name me a few big-breasted female gymnasts, ice-skaters, sprinters, swimmers, etc. But don’t think too hard, because you can’t! These women have been training hard since they were kids through puberty, the formative years. Boobs are nothing more than fat sacks. So with all the physical activity they endured, the boobs never had a chance to develop. Come to think of it, none of the girls I knew in Jr. High who did basketball and swimming and whatnot developed big boobies, while the ones who gossiped during PE developed decent knockers.
Back to the Japanese girls. They play in their sports clubs two hours a day, six days a week. Then they go home and consume a diet of fish and rice. Not a whole lot of fat there, and what little they do eat, they burn off the very next day at school! McDonalds is probably introducing a very much needed fat component into their diets, which could account for the recent upward trends in bra sizes. However, if they just stopped all this sport club nonsense, or even just toned it down a little… my God, think of the possibilities!
Knowing that Japanese men, much like myself, are avid breast lovers, I decided to share my findings with a Japanese male friend of mine. I was hoping there was some sort of Science of Breasts Ministry he could contact, and in a few weeks we could get Operation: Japanese D-Cup underway. I carefully explained my observations and detailed my findings. He listened intently over his beer, giving me a few thoughtful nods, and when I finished he crossed his arms and said, “But, I think if our women eat more McDonalds and exercise less, then maybe they’ll be as fat as American women.”
Ouch. Feeling my American Pride slightly damaged, I decided I needed to come back on the quick and defend my country. So I shot back with, “Maybe, but at least they’d have breasts.”
He took a long drag from his cigarette, looked off into the distance, and said, “Soo da ne.” Translation, “That’s right, huh?” Damn skippy, son.
America 3, Japan 0.