The Man With the $100,000 Breasts

Maxim, Nov 2005

The Breast Years of his Life: In 1998 Maxim introduced Brian Zembic, the man who cashed in on a $100,000 dare by getting breast implants for a year. So how come he’s still got ’em?

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When Brian Zembic first shows me his tits, we’re in his bedroom, with the door closed, the curtains drawn and the lights off. It’s pitch black in here. Then he flicks a switch and suddenly two glowing pink boobs appear, hovering in the darkness.

“Look at these fucking things!” yells Zembic, who’s standing there topless, holding two torches onto his waps and looking down at the spectacle, agog. “Don’t they look alien?”

And they do – weirdly translucent and slightly hairy. They look like they might hatch.

“When my wife was pregnant, they said if you shine a light on her tummy, the kid kicks. So for fun, I put them on my tits. I had no idea they glowed like this. Apparently it doesn’t work with silicone. Only saline.”

Zembic, 44, has every reason to marvel at his tits. These are the tits, after all, that have made him a legend. They started life in early 1996 when he and his gambler friends – a motley bunch of chancers and card sharks who bet on pretty much anything – were discussing how nuts it was that their friend, Martha, and for that matter women in general, went under the knife for a bigger set of pups. Were boobs really that important?

“I said fuck yeah! The only reason Martha gets attention is because she has boobs,” remembers Zembic. “And if I had them, I’d get just as much, even more. Because the whole world revolves around boobs, even if I got them.”

So his pal Svobo, a big time backgammon player, put some money on it. He said he’d give Zembic $100,000 if he got breast implants himself, never imagining that he might actually do it. But Zembic had lost a small fortune on a stock tip from Svobo and he was determined to get his money back. If there’s one thing Zembic hates, it’s losing money – even his best friends call him the tightest man in the world. So a meeting was called – a “titty tribunal” – and the terms were set. Zembic would get half the money after the operation and the rest if he lasted a year with the tits intact. All he had to do was pay for the surgery itself.

So he did. To everyone’s astonishment, he followed through and forked out $4500 for a pair of c-cups. But that was back in September 1997. Eight years ago. When Titanic came out. And he’s still got the tits.

“You know why? Because I can’t afford to have the damn things taken out!” He’s grinning. “No, seriously, it’s because I hate those operations. That general anaesthetic, it makes me so sick. And now I’ve had them in so long, there’s all this scar tissue underneath…”

But Brian, it’s a routine operation.

“You know what? I can’t even remember what it’s like not having them,” he says, giving them a jiggle. “Is it really eight years? Shit. That’s nearly a fifth of my life. That’s a long fucking time to have boobs.”

Brian Zembic is a unique and exceptional man – not so much because he’s got hooters, but because on him, the hooters seem almost incidental. He’s loud and manic, the centre of attention, and he is prodigiously skilled – hence his nickname, The Wiz. He’s a brilliant slight-of-hand magician, always whipping a deck of cards out. He’s a ping pong coach. And he’s a world class blackjack and backgammon player. In fact, gambling has paid for everything he owns, including a beautiful 3 bedroom home in Las Vegas with a yellow Hummer out front that Zembic himself can’t drive.

But they don’t just call him the Wiz for his gambling and magic skills – Zembic also has the uncanny ability to get stunning women giggling their way into the sack.

“It’s unbelievable,” says his friend Derek, a professional blackjack player. “It’s not as though he’s a good looking bloke. But he gets away with murder. He gets them laughing, he pulls a few cards out of their cleavage, and next thing you know he’s cupping their tits and they’re away. And it’s always with girls with nice tits.”

Zembic was always a tit man. “I was breast-fed,” he jokes, “until the age of six.” And having his own pair has done nothing to dilute his fetish. “I still live for nice breasts even though my own don’t do anything for me,” he says. “That was my big worry: how the hell am I going to get some chi-chi? But, you know, I’m shocked – there’s never been a girl that hasn’t enjoyed them. The boobs help. Now if I think I have no shot with a girl, then I use the boobs. But if you took them out now, I’d be like – Jesus Christ, how am I going to get a date now?”

It’s a mystery as to why his tits are such a pussy magnet. They’re hairy for starters. “Yeah, but I shave them when I’m on a date,” says Brian. “I’m a gentleman like that.” So what is it – the familiarity factor? Or the fact that he’s a minor celebrity with a book named after him (The Man With The $100,000 Breasts)? “I think most of those things. But also because they’re all lesbians,” he says. “I’m serious. They play around with them, they suck them, they rub theirs on mine. And they get to do all that without really feeling like they’re lesbians.”

Does it feel good, women sucking your tits?

“Not really, but I never had any feeling there before either,” he says. “So I just fake it to keep it going. It’s a turn-on for me for me to watch two girls. So when I’m with a girl, I pretend it’s not me, and I’m on the outside, watching two lesbos going at it.”

In addition to the lesbo action, Zembic’s boobs have brought him fame and a small fortune. After the book came out, he appeared on the Man Show, Howard Stern and Inside Edition, among others, picking up appearance fees along the way. He posed for both the Star newspaper and Helmut Newton and then there were all the side bets. For example, a high rolling pal gave him $2000 to flash his tits in the middle of the casino. Another time, he bet $2000 that he would get laid in the first month of the operation. (He won – it was Halloween). So far, he reckons his tits have earned him $270,000.

But it hasn’t all been cash and chicks. There have been minor sacrifices along the way. To keep the tits hidden in public, he has to dress a certain way – not in cleavage-enhancing bras but in spandex tops and billowy shirts. His outfits are odd, a bit hospital orderly, but he insists that’s not a tit thing. Pens in his shirt pocket chafe and jogging’s painful without a sports bra. As for swimming or getting a tan, he hasn’t done either in 8 years, but “I’m not a big beach guy anyway”. And airport security is always treacherous. “It’s pretty embarrassing when they start pronging you right in front of everyone,” he says. “Once they back roomed me – they thought I had a bomb. Luckily I had the book with me which explains everything. So now, I always gotta pack that book when I fly.”

But these are minor irritations. In general, the boobs appear to have treated him well. Ironically, they’ve even kept him in shape. “I can’t put on weight because then my boobs look like shit,” he says. “It’s sick, I know. I want my boobs to look good and I’m the only one that sees them! But now I know why girls are always dieting. It’s for their boobs. I’m serious. I’ve got an insight into women now. And girls can relate to me too, they talk to me the way they talk to gay guys. The only difference is, after that, I try and bang ‘em.”

The only time he feared his boobs might seriously backfire was with his ex-wife, the mother of his five year old daughter, Mika. When they were first dating, even having sex, he kept them a secret from her. “I thought she would freak out,” he says. “So I just kept pushing her away if she tried to touch me there. When I eventually told her she just cried. She was worried her parents wouldn’t accept me because they were traditional Chinese. But after an hour, she was over it and we were back in the sack. We got married about six months afterwards.”

It’s a bizarre turn of events, no doubt, but no less so than a magician/ping pong coach getting gazongas fitted for a bet. Incidentally, his in-laws eventually found out about Zembic’s breasty secret through a TV show. “It was one of those ‘will the real Brian Zembic stand up’ shows, like Tell The Truth or the Man Show or something,” he says. “But even her parents accepted me in the end. Most people accept me, you’d be surprised.” The reason he split from his wife wasn’t implant-related. It was because “she wanted to go gambling, and I wanted to stay home with Mika”. And little Mika knows all about Daddy’s boobs and how he got them. She knows to keep it a secret too.

By all accounts, the tits have settled him down somewhat. Before the operation, the life of Brian went at a breakneck pace, travelling all over the US and Europe, outsmarting casinos at the blackjack tables. But along the way, he nearly killed himself in a motorcycle crash in Portugal and spent a month in a South African jail. Since the tits were installed, by contrast, he has become a devoted stay-at-home father who mostly lounges about playing online poker and coaching ping pong. For an extra few grand, he’ll do the occasional magic show.

“I got my savings,” he says, “and I don’t want to risk them, now that I got little Mika.”

Besides, the biggest boobs payday may soon be on the horizon. There has been talk about a movie for six years now. The script’s finished and various actors and directors have expressed interest at one point or another, including David Duchovny, who joked that, to impress the Academy, he would actually going to get breast implants for the part. So Zembic’s hopeful. If nothing else, it’s a good explanation for why he has kept the boobs for so long. “I was done after a year, I wanted them out,” he protests. “But then every year when they renewed the rights, they kept saying ‘keep the tits so you can appear at the end of the movie. It’ll be really cool.’”

David Higgins, the producer, laughs. “I’m not insisting that he keeps his implants in, it’s completely up to him,” he says. “It would be great for the marketing of it, of course, but we can always find another way.”

The truth may be that Zembic is actually rather attached to his hooters. He hasn’t doubted “If I ever looked in the mirror and thought, ‘what the fuck am I doing with these?’ then I’d get them out,” he says. “But I got to say, I quite like them. I don’t want to grow so old with them that they’re sagging into my cereal, but they’re mine, they’re me – what can I say?”

Nevertheless, the clock is ticking on the most famous whoppers in gambling history. He recently accepted a bet from his pal, Michael Sall, a gin player, that throws the future of his chest into question. He groans just thinking about it. “I get $50,000 if I go to a D-cup, and $10,000 if I take them out. But I have to pay $20,000 if I leave them in.” He looks pained. “I’ve got till February…”

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The Wagers of Zembic

Handjob on a plane

“On the flight back from Portugal one year, I bet my buddy $2000 I could get this a girl to give me a handjob. I picked this girl and went over there. She wasn’t like hot – I’m not an idiot. You got to pick the weak ones. Anyway, when the movie comes on, he looks over and sees a towel over me and her hands working away. That’s not even one time, it’s a couple of times.”

Running around town in women’s underwear

I had a bet for $3000 to run about a mile through the streets of Philly, from point A to point B in like 5 or 6 minutes – and I had to run with just panties and a bra. If I got stopped by the cops and didn’t finish I lost $3000, so I practiced all week, working out the route. And, in case cops stopped me, I paid some girls to let me go out the back of a shop where I had a car waiting with some clothes and quick escape if needed. The cops didn’t bother me though. I won the bet.

A marathon in 26 days

I bet Gus Hanson, the poker champion, $10,000 he couldn’t run a marathon in 26 days. He had to run 16 one hundred meter dashes a day, at 15 or 16 seconds a run, for something like 26 days. It sound easy, and Gus is an athlete. But after the first day, he decided it was too hard and he paid me off.

The Frisbee full of beer

This is always good for a few thousand a year. How long do you think it’ll take to drink a professional Frisbee full of beer? Most people say like a minute, two minutes. So I bet them $2000 they can’t do it in 15 minutes. Try it. You can’t do it. You can fit about 5 cans of beer in there. And if they’re all gung ho, saying “I’m going to rob you”, I tell ‘em, ‘OK, for another couple of grand, drink it through a straw’.

Staying in a bathroom for month

Before I got the tits, someone bet me $14,000 that I couldn’t live in a bathroom for a month. People brought me sandwiches to the door. I’m not kidding. And if that’s not bad enough, the guy who did the bet with me would have his friends come over and take dumps in the place. After six days they gave me $7000 to drop the bet. They couldn’t believe I lasted that long.