But this system doesn't sculpt chests by encasing them in iron and forcing them to comply. It unfolds into exercise apparatus that claims to build the bosom by exercising your arms.

We're fairly sure this is a vital part of the Iron Woman armor (for people who like good comics: Rescue Armor).

The patent admits that breasts can't be exercised, a ballsy admission for any breast-exercising patent. It goes on to explain that it's designed to work your pectoral muscles, and those will make your boobs look good enough. This is a dubious claim for a few reasons. Developed pecs give female bodybuilders boobs like male bodybuilders'. And we're pretty sure pectorals can't be trained with a double-barreled sandwich-maker, forcing us to conclude that this is an attempt to build the world's most sexist device by saying "You need bigger tits and should make me toasted sandwiches."

By their logic, all Subway employees should be double Ds. Especially the men.

They claim the invention achieves the exact same result as bench presses with dangerously heavy weights. When they can't see any effective difference between breasts and firm, rugged pecs, there's something the two male inventors should really know about themselves.

Which may explain why they fantasize about robot dicks ejaculating numbers.

Modern breast enlargement techniques leave a lot to be desired, a double-entendre that Joseph Gagliano would almost certainly deliver with both of his thumbs pointed toward his "FBI: Federal Booby Inspector" T-shirt. Gagliano is the inventor behind a method that "is all-natural and involves no drugs, topical or oral compositions, hormones or surgery" because it consists entirely of pawing at breasts until they get bigger. He describes how women can do it for themselves in such loving detail that I think this "patent" was actually erotic fan fiction sent to the wrong address because he was typing with one hand.

Getty Editorial
If getting yourself groped made breasts bigger, Tila Tequila wouldn't have needed surgery.

The "detailed description" reads like a letter to Penthouse, telling women to find a room where they won't be disturbed and play some relaxing music, and suggesting that rubbing oil on their own naked breasts is absolutely fine with him. His descriptions are so tenderly detailed that you can actually hear the Barry White as you read. After a full page of breast massage, he suggests that it works even better with a partner. He stops just short of reminding female readers that his address is on the first page. Ladies. He's not so much applying to the patent office as attempting to seduce them. They should have charged sex chat rates for processing this.

He also thinks women might accidentally puncture themselves.

This is nothing less than an attempt to patent second base and masturbation. I can see intellectual property lawyers jumping out at teenagers in cars to serve an injunction, but only if the RIAA didn't get there first because they were both listening to the same MP3. Joseph points out that previous techniques have "left much to be desired or too much to be handled," proving that this patent has rolled way past free-association and into admitting his motives. The patent didn't include any images, for which the patent office should probably be grateful.

I'm not sure what the record is for minimum contact between a mother and a child, but I suspect that the inventor's mother gave birth to her through a steel funnel. Any human child left on this thing will wail like it's been abandoned, and it still won't be as desperate a cry for help as this document.

Of course the invisible baby above (Reed Richards is trying to remember where he left it) is just a cover story. When you're building fake tits for use in bed, pretending you're doing it for the children isn't helping, and you're probably risking arrest if you persist with that cover story. To find a precedent for that sort of creepiness, you have to go to the Japanese import market, and the box art for stuffed tit-cushions like the Nekomi Miu body pillow.

Mune-kyun.com
I have seen the face of loneliness, and it has GIANT EYES.

But even that can't match our cyclop-tit pillow, which also has the ability to dribble breast milk from its built-in nipple reservoir. Although we have to admit that this is probably the single greatest way to make sure no one sits next you on public transportation while sneaking a beverage on board in the only thing even TSA agents won't dare to grope.

He demonstrates his interest in the comfort of women by having his areolal armor end with an abrupt edge pushed into the undercurve of the breast, although he can't be sure he'd ever talked to one before filing the patent. He goes into detail about how the rubberized shell should match the wearer's skin tone and texture, but since this was 1936, he might as well have imagined flying robotic concubines with RadioMatic Orgasmo-Rays. In 1936, they'd only just invented Scotch tape. An attempt at creating convincing fake flesh was coming more disturbingly ahead of its time than if Marty McFly had gone through with banging his own mom.

Universal Pictures

This invention was designed only to tell women, "Your breasts are abominations, now wear this undercurve-chafing harness for my amusement." Wonder Woman should be grateful DC didn't see this or she'd have an even worse costume.

Matthew Turner tried to revolutionize breasts with all the experience and understanding of a 14-year-old boy swearing at a bra clasp. Having grown up thinking you could make boobs bigger by blowing into them, Turner proceeded to avoid breasts for long enough to build something that proved how very, very wrong he was.

Never mind implanting those moving sharp edges inside human flesh; anyone using that font is a monster.

He complains that modern breast implants don't allow their size to be adjusted after installation and doesn't seem to have the slightest clue about the medically terrifying reasons for that. It's not a total surprise that a man on a quest to turn real women into blow-up dolls doesn't worry about women being comfortable, or even understand that women being comfortable is a theoretical possibility, since it's clearly never happened anywhere near him. But it's still a special sort of crazy that infuses that lack of know-how with what is apparently a fetish to play accordion duets as foreplay.

"I'm horny, dear, fetch the condom and bicycle pumps."

What's especially amusing is how excited Turner clearly was when writing the patent. He comes up with an amazing 19 implementations covering every possible arrangement of hinge-tits in the female chest, but hasn't bothered to figure out whether the implant will be filled with "liquid, gas or solid." Medical technologists spend years working on biocompatible materials, and this guy hasn't even chosen a state of matter. He clearly thought he didn't have time to work such minor details out. He had to get his idea for a drink umbrella you put in your chest patented before anyone else came up with the idea!

The Rotary Douche mounts the mammary with an electromagnetic stator, with a sealing edge to trap the offending organ in a bell-shaped vessel. Rotary fingers then spin while firing water from all angles. This man uses more terrifying technology to deal with his target than the Ghostbusters.

From Dr. Doom's lingerie catalog.

The patent spends hundreds of words on how to dismantle the breastblaster to clean out tap water calcium deposits, while completely disregarding the part of the user experience where a living, breathing woman's tits are trapped in twin sternal washing machines. While that might suggest that he failed to consider women's feelings, we suspect that he had to remove all the references to "shrieking flesh bags" and didn't know another word for them. If it wasn't for three uses of the word "breasts," you'd swear it was a device for cleaning particularly troublesome diesel engines.

Ladies and gentlemen, behold the most sexist fluid-based technology since the non-stick stripper pole.

That is a harness designed to make a woman's breasts bigger by leashing her to the kitchen sink. The water even returns through an outflow valve so that the prisoner doesn't stop washing dishes. The patent refers to the victim as a "patient" and the process as "therapy," because the inventor considers not having big tits a medical problem. The inner layer of the jacket conforms to the wearer's breasts and assaults them, with the idea that running hot water over boobs will magically make them grow like oatmeal, ignoring the fact that if hot water caused breasts to swell, everyone would already have bigger breasts. Modern showers would have given women breast sizes you'd be able to win Scrabble with.

This was only two years after the famous "bra-burning" protest at the 1968 Miss America pageant, and even though no bras were actually burned, this lunatic still built a restraining water-filled self-extinguishing bra just in case. And that was still social progress compared to another madman's earlier invention.

"We're not necessarily treating you like livestock, but if you could lactate, it would defray the costs a bit."

Look at those expansion chambers. The inventor could have made everyone (including himself) happier if he'd just stapled two cows together and lived underneath them.

If H.R. Giger were a dairy farmer.

It's a shame that these people were designing breast restraint frames with skintight material hooked up to fluid hoses at a time when you had to pretend it was a medical treatment. Nowadays you can just admit you both enjoy it and go out and buy the damn thing.

Kink Engineering
Woohooo!

Luke McKinney recently drank The Video Game Cocktail Experiment and investigated The Most Stupidly Expensive Cocktails in the World. He also tumbles and has a website.

For more patent ridiculousness, check out The 7 Most Terrifying Sex Toys Ever Patented and The 7 Most Absurd Inventions in the History of Alcoholism.