QUOTE : Yes!” I spat moodily. “Boobs. Breasts. Tits. Whatever you want to call them.” I motioned vaguely toward her chest. “You have them. I’m going to want to see them. Every time I walk into a room, I’m going to be all tense and shit, thinking about them, wondering...is this the time I’m finally going to catch her by surprise without a shirt on and accidentally glimpse nipple? And that’s wrong, so very, horribly wrong. But I don’t want to be wrong by constantly looking for boobs, so I’m going to be freaked out about it, worried and always on edge, trying to be all respectful and not look at things I really want to see. And it’ll drive me perpetually crazy. How the hell can you expect a guy to live like that? This is my home; I want to be able to relax here.