From Viggo to Venison (musings on man-flesh)

[lupinesque]

Tabouli sang (I'm looking in vain for a verb form for 'paean'):

> Hair!  O most glorious and godlike of substances!  I love hair, I'm 
a veritable hair fetishist.  I was pained when that terrible fashion 
for men using number one clippers on their heads came in (ick!).  Head 
stubble just does not do it for me.  I also strongly disapprove of 
this awful chest waxing thing Hollywood seems to have inflicted on us 
lately (OK, so there are limits... I'm with Hollywood on the hairy 
back issue, and the gorilla-like Italian man I once dabbled with was 
over the top)... if one is going to be heterosexual, surely sexual 
dimorphism such as (tasteful quantities of) chest hair should be 
encouraged!<

Now now, be nice.  All of us except the few certifiable sex 
god[desse]s on the list have one or more physical attributes that 
someone could label distasteful.  Actually, make that all of us, bar 
none, since there are bound to be people who feel strongly on both 
sides of any physical question (e.g. I find shaven legs odd and shaven 
armpits positively creepy--a minority view, I recognize, at least 
in the US--but in any case it wouldn't be very nice of me to point and 
say "yuck").

I've never dated a man with a hairy back, but I don't understand the 
revulsion this attribute awakens.  It seems very snuggly to me.  I 
just saw a movie featuring the hirsute Elliott Gould, and Bibi 
Andersson seemed to like it just fine <g>.

Amy