There are many reasons why you should wear a shirt, people, and frankly I'm a little disappointed that we are even having this conversation.
This has been a difficult time for me, as I've been forced to write an entire column about breasts. This goes against my inner survival instincts, as I do my best to NOT think about breasts. Hard-learnt lessons from over the years have taught me that the less I think about breasts, the easier life is.
Now I've been thrust back into the heaving cleavage of bosomland; a confusing, dangerous place for any man because the messages are mixed and inconsistent, fraught with mantraps and potential for disaster.
From our first days we have them shoved in our face and are supposed to admire and respect them. But then we spend the rest of our lives being told not to stare at them, despite extreme provocation; having them plumped up, trussed in, trotted precariously in front of us… and yes, even smothered in glitter and paraded past… but you're not allowed to look at them! Let alone, as one hapless breast investigator discovered recently, touch the damned things.
Chaps, believe me, try to erase the things from your mind. It is the only way to avoid the minefield of mixed messages that emanates from the front quarters of the other sex.
And to really rack up the risk, from the front quarters of some unspecified sexes.
Ignore the norks
This ignore technique was working well until last week. Now, the whole boob dilemma has been dragged screaming and kicking back into the public spotlight, brought to a head by the antics of a couple of shirtless ‘wimminfolk' who went parading topless with only glitter on their jubblies.
Then a stray groper tested the adhesive qualities of the glitter, which was not appreciated by one of the women, who retaliated, then told her story, then became a social media hero, is writing the book and probably selling the movie rights.
And fair enough, there has been plenty of debate over the rights and wrongs of this whole saga.
I am not silly enough to pick a side and publicly state my own thoughts.
Except to say, it is wise to wear a shirt. Not only to prevent the above predicament, but for a whole range of other reasons, such as avoiding sunburn, having something handy to clean your sunglasses or to flag down a passing ship if you are stranded on a desert island.
And finally it pays to have a shirt on your back for when the government needs to tax it off you.
So now this young lady and her boobies have shot to international stardom status and she's planning a parade to acknowledge whatever it is that glittered bazooka bods need to celebrate.
Here at RR we have been working on ideas and think it should be called the Nork Walk. And we'd like to see it include Mammory Lane. I hope they award some prizes for the best participant. At least two cups would be appropriate. I hope they do not invite the Topless Twins.
Her Majesty's maracas
Meanwhile, even the Queen is having a bad week with the royal kahunas. Her Majesty has stripped her lingerie supplier, after the company's former owner June Kenton wrote a book, Storm in a D-Cup.
The undercover underwear story caused a furore in the palace, and Rigby and Peller ditched as the royal grundy suppliers after 57 years.
Kenton wrote about fitting the queen, describing that she was half dressed and often the corgis were present.
It is not known whether the corgis have received counselling.
The sniff remedy
The only good news, which we can keep you abreast of, is that a new study claims that sniffing your wife's shirt will calm you down.
Lord knows we need it, after all this breast upheaval.
The researchers found that the scent of your partner evokes some kind of olfactory reaction.
The scent of a partner can reduce feelings of stress and lower levels of the stress hormone, cortisol.
During the test, 86 couples volunteered; the men were given a shirt to wear for 24 hours and the women were given the job as smellers (apparently they have better senses than men. Of course they do.)
The women were then given three shirts to sniff. A clean one, a shirt worn by a stranger, or their partner's. After the sniffing, they were stress tested with math questions and a mock job interview.
Saliva cortisol levels were checked.
The results showed reduced stress after smelling their partner's shirt, and even more stress reduction when they correctly identified his shirt.
Okay men, the message is clear. If you are feeling distressed over this whole breast parade saga, simply ask your partner if you can sniff her shirt as a calming procedure. But we advise she leaves it on, removal could be counter-productive.
Dad joke of the Week
Did you hear the one about the dyslexic breast who walked into a bra?