Watching this ad for a "Chinese boob clamp" that is actually just a corset (Although maybe corsets should be called woman clamps?) I find myself entranced by the recurring image of breasts mushing together, then falling back apart. Faces lighting up with joy, then hanging with shame. Is this what it's like to be a straight man?

Do you love to have your boobs almost hanging out, but not at work? Why not buy this product, "Cami Secret?" It's basically a napkin you put under your sweater to cover your boobs. What next, flying cars? [Adrants]

Meghan McCain says she plans to "get the fuck off Twitter" since so many users of the microblogging service are hating on a maverick picture she posted of her maverick cleavage. Oh, please. She's a fameball. She's going nowhere.

And we have a winner. Ya know, if we knew you people would do this kind of thing for us, we never would have looked for another job in the first place.

Getting much, much closer, people! Celebrity rack PLUS booze. If we can just find something that's not an aperitif, you'll have made me a happy boy indeed. Thanks, Mark!

Now this is EXACTLY what we're talking about. Cleavage, booze, CHUGGING... there's something about this image that reminds us of something else, something we can't quite put our finger on. Man, we're not gonna get any work done for the rest of the afternoon.

From the mailbag: "DO NOT LEAVE US." Couple more cleavage-and-booze shots like these, possibly more revealing, and possibly with the brown liquors, and I'll consider it.

Remember how on her last day as Gawker Editor Jess Coen posted lots of pictures of adorable puppies and kittens? Well, it's my last day but I fucking hate animals. So here's a picture with two of my favorite things: cleavage and alcohol. Enjoy! If anyone out there has a picture of hot nude girls drinking Wild Turkey straight from the bottle, send them along and maybe I'll put 'em up. Either way, I'll make use of them. [Full Bodied]

Okay, maybe it's not all doom and gloom at Tony Ortega's Voice: Cartoonist Tom Tomorrow is returning! "Basically," he writes on his blog, "the editor who didn't like my work was suddenly ousted, and his replacement turned out to be somebody who's been championing it for years." No more having to sit through that fucking Salon ad! Good first step. But we're hearing about an even better one: "Married, Not Dead," is, in fact, dead. Yes! [Pumps fist, etc.] Damn you, Ortega, you may make us like the Voice after all. Okay, probably not, but maybe.