Oh, come on.

I stayed up a little bit late last night watching Sex and the City reruns on the 25 or so channels that show them every night. During commercials, I flipped around and saw a show called MANswers on Spike. My curiosity was piqued.

Unfortunately, what has been seen can never be unseen.

I watched, horrified, as a physicist tried to determine the size of boob required to smash a beer can. A young "lady" in a C-cup fell on the can with her boob to no avail. A slightly bustier young "lady" with a D-cup fell on the can with her boob to no avail. Both of these women feigned looks of utter disappointment and rejection, as though their hopes and dreams had been dashed. "Hmm," said the physicist.

He took some sandbags and started piling them on top of a beer can. 10 pounds... nope. 20 pounds... nope. 35 pounds ... FINALLY! Well, surely nobody has 35 pound boobs. That's like strapping Ace on my chest - twice.

"Silly Stacey," thought the physicist, as the camera panned to a "lady" with boobs the size of Ace - each. By some startling coincidence this woman's last name was something like Mounds, and her first name had some equally coincidental alliteration, like Misty or something. I'd look her up for accuracy purposes, but I fear Google in this capacity. Misty Mounds it is.

Ms. Mounds, who was at least 45 and had seen difficult days, introduced her disgusting 34HHH boobs. She wavered around sexily, but the pain on her face from carrying around those cannons on a daily basis could hardly be disguised. I have a feeling that she has to keep moving or her back will seize in protest. The mounds themselves were hardly attractive - covered in veins and wrinkles in odd places and stretch marks and some crusty cleavage. Wow. Hott.

I cringed at the inevitable. Just as C-cup and D-cup before her, Ms. Mounds rose up in a half jump and fell gracefully upon the beer can, which crumpled as though mimicking my faith in humanity. Oh, I wish I could see that slow motion shot just once more.

The narrator showed more shots of Ms. Mounds, demonstrating her other unique abilities. "Remember," said the narrator, "Ms. Mounds' boobs are 30 pounds each - that's the same weight as an empty keg, which Ms. Mounds should know, since she can hold one up with her boobs!" Cut to Ms. Mounds, indeed holding a beer keg between her breast and her stomach, just as proud as you can be.

I'm not watching TV for like a week. Guh.