I've never experienced any fear of sexual assault, or noticed being leered at in any way, for reasons similar to One-Eye's above. When dating, I never felt less than in control of my own space. In fact, I was the aggressor in most relationships, and had our sexes been reversed, it would have been I who was the stalkery, grabby-hands, "let's have sex now - damn it, why not?" party (early twenties, hotbed of raging hormones).

That makes the whole Boobsyay! thing interesting to me, if a bit alien, because this state of women in fear is apparently a cultural saturation to which I've been oblivious. I'm not sorry to have missed it.

I'm sorry you and others haven't.

As for theferret, a lot of folks seem to be jumping at the bit to overreact and condemn the guy for what is a basement geek's fantasy writ large. The men and women who participated freely had drunken fun when it happened, and it appears to be one of those spontaneous con-goings-on that comes out sounding terrible when spoken of later. It would be better for all concerned if he had kept his reminiscing and proposal to himself, because not only has he enraged a great many people, but his own memories of the happy boobsyay! event are now tainted. But stupid ideas will emerge, especially the ones that are powered by alcoholic afterglow.