I’ve heard it once. I’ve heard it twice. I’ve even heard it three times.
You ask, “Is it cold in here?” as you look pointedly at my nipples.
You say, “Wow, that shirt is really thin.”
You say, “You’re pulling a real Rachel Green” (That’s actually a compliment, I respect Jennifer Aniston’s nipples like I would my own).
Well, joke’s on you, my nipples can see you too.

That’s right. When you look at my nipples, my nipples are looking right back. They know you’re watching. They’ve been watching you for far longer than you’ve been watching them. They see you when you’re sleeping. They know when you’re awake. They know all of your sins and regrets.

Silently, they take in everything you’ve ever done. Like two pointy, unmerciful gods they sit atop their fatty mountains and judge every action you’ve taken. Every breath you take, every move you make, every bond you break, every step you take, they’ll be watching you. And when they decide to impart their wrath upon you, you’ll regret it.

So next time you’re tempted to comment on the visibility of Karen and Timothy, remember these words of warning: boom boom boom, my nipples can see you too. When they decide to strike back, hellfire and brimstone will be released in a fashion not unlike the whipped cream in Katy Perry’s “California Girls” music video. And when it happens, for the sake of your vision, avert your eyes.