Sarah Palin’s Breasts

October Surprise? Photo courtesy of Luke Ford

Due to creative differences on another blog that we’ve been contributing to, Mary Lyn and I will be reposting here some of our “greatest hits” from that blog. The first is a piece I wrote that originally ran on September 10, 2008, in the run-up to the presidential election.

By Robert Rosen

Having spent 16 years in the porn biz, most of them editing D-Cup magazine, I think I’m eminently qualified to discuss Sarah Palin’s tits. It’s not only that I’ve studied tits commercially, artistically, philosophically, and politically, but in the course of my distinguished career, I had the opportunity to probe the psyches of hundreds of women whose mammary glands had naturally, or with the aid of silicone, expanded to spectacular proportions.

Among those I interviewed (under the nom de porn Bobby Paradise) were Wendy Whoppers, Pandora Peaks, Kimberly Kupps, Candy Cantaloupes, Deena Duo, Letha Weapons, Whitney Wonders, Traci Topps, and Erika Everest. And if I learned anything from these often provocative tête-à-têtes, it’s that every woman who’s ever used her breasts to travel the intertwining paths of porn star/model/beauty queen has, usually at a tender age, exposed them to a photographer.

Normally it’s a boyfriend with a Polaroid or digital camera who persuades the aspiring starlet that it’s urgent to preserve for posterity a graphic record of natural beauty in its ripening fullness. But occasionally it’s a local small-town commercial hack who says he has a good connection at a big New York modeling agency, and at the end of the test-shoot wants to take just one topless picture “for art.” Whatever the case, these photos always exist—and if they don’t, it’s the exception that proves the rule.

Who, for example, could have predicted in 1984 that Bob Guccione would publish in Penthouse (in the same issue with 15-year-old Traci Lords as “Pet of the Month,” no less) hardcore lesbian S&M photos of Vanessa Williams? She was Miss America, for God’s sake.

Which brings us to our Republican vice presidential candidate, former beauty queen Sarah Palin. I think it’s a given that photos of her naked breasts exist, probably stashed in a shoebox in the back of somebody’s closet. But whose closet? Her husband’s? An old boyfriend’s? A former college roommate’s? Some sleazeball photographer’s? Wherever they are, you can rest assured that at this very moment Hustler publisher Larry Flynt and a number of Democratic operatives are moving heaven and earth in an effort to acquire them. (If they’re not, then they’re not doing their jobs.)

I asked in my “Hypocrisy Now” quiz if Palin’s nudie pix will help or hurt the Republican ticket when they finally surface, and at least one journalist, in Latin America, thought this was an important enough question to write a column about it.

Readers of this blog, as well, have been weighing in with their opinions, and they think that nude Palin pix will help the Republicans—the sleazier they are, the better. And if it should ever come to light that Palin was captured on film getting drilled (so to speak) or deep-throating nine inches, that would virtually insure a Republican victory. Christian fundamentalists would continue to say what they’ve been saying all along: “Love the [Republican] sinner. Hate the sin.” And the rest of America, in its infinite wisdom, would find it irresistibly entertaining to have a genuine rifle-toting, moose-gutting, blowjob queen a heartbeat away from the presidency—Who cares what her politics are?

In fact, if polling begins to show that America’s finally coming to its senses and going big-time for Obama, I think the Republicans will release the pictures themselves...and blame it on the Democrats. That’ll be the October Surprise. If there’s nothing to lose, just watch John McCain roll the dice on Sarah Palin’s tits.

You don’t have to believe me because I devoted the better part of my career to inventing new ways for models to display their mammaries on magazine covers, or because I know every turn of phrase for large breasts in the Queen’s English, from the classic “bodacious bazooms” to the little-known “wobbling wazoobies.”

You just have to be aware that the only real question is if the photos will come out before or after the election. And if they do come out after the election, it’s because somewhere a photographer’s betting that dirty pictures of a sitting vice president will be worth a hell of a lot more money.