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My Favorite Parts of the Body-Female and Male

Well, I did my least favorite parts of the body.  I ought to address my favorites.  You can go ahead and call me sexist now, because I appreciate far less on the female body than I do on the male body.  Or maybe it’s because I’m just wildly attracted to the male species.

So we’ll start with chicks:

Because I do not look at the details of females, these will be more of an overview:
•  The general silhouette of women is pretty.  I like the hips, I like the dips, and I think that if a woman lies on her side, she generally looks like the hills in the Appalachian Mountains.  It’s very natural to me.
•  I can always appreciate a good, shiny head of hair.
•  …that’s it.  It’s not that I don’t find women beautiful; it’s just that I’d rather spend my time oggling men.  They are far more intriguing to me.

But men on the other hand?  MEN?!  Well I could just go on and on.  I suppose the best way to do this would be to approach it in the way that I look at men.  So let’s set this up.  I’m sitting at a patio bar, and the sun is shining and there’s a cool westerly wind.  The margarita tastes divine and I’m feelin’ good in my skin.  And then he walks in.

Of course I covertly give him a once over.  At that point, I go for the hands.

•  Hands I do this for multiple reasons.  First of all, if I end up dating this guy, those are the hands he’s going to be using to hold my hand, to move the hair out of my face, and a few other things, so they’ve gotta be good hands.  What constitutes as good hands?  Strong ones.  Ones that aren’t lotioned and lathered, but callused and rough.  Thick fingers, short fingernails, and some scars are always a nice addition.  The point is that good man hands demonstrate work and ability.  They can withstand struggles and move mountains.  I respect dirt and oil that is permanently in the creases of their palms, and I even forgive dirt under the fingernails.  It’s just so hot.  I also look to see if there’s a wedding ring.  While it’s unintentional and DARN sexy, I do respect marriage and will immediately discount him.

•  Height Height is important to me.  It’s shallow, and it makes me a bitch (I’m not doing so well at the not cussing bit)?  So be it.  It’s not exactly a body part, but it’s a culmination of body parts–long legs, long arms, long torso, just HEIGHT.

•  Shoulders Broad broad broad.  Broad enough to support weight and bulk.  I’ve seen men in my life lug bags of salt down the steps to the water softener, carry luggage, children, barrels, kegs, adults, ME.  I’ve been carried over broad shoulders, and I’m not bean pole.  To me, broad shoulders signify strength and courage.  I don’t know why they resemble courage, just roll with it.  If you’ve ever tried to settle your head on a not-broad shoulder, you know how unsatisfying it is.  To lie down in the crook of a mine’s arm, put your head onto his shoulder and fall asleep…well that’s just one of the things heaven is made of.

Jawline A strong jawline says a lot about a man.  Again, it’s a strength thing.  A prestige thing.  A man with a strong jawline eats jerky and speaks his mind.  He defends others.  He gets angry, and diffuses it by gritting his teeth.  I love seeing a man work his jaw when he’s trying to change a tire or raise a barn.

Beard This kind of goes with jawline, but I am completely into a man who has the ability to grow a beard.  This does not mean I want Paul Bunyan kissing me goodnight, but I do require a little scruff.  My boyfriend has a goatee, and if he doesn’t have an important meeting for a job interview, he lets that five o’clock shadow grow for a couple days.  And I couldn’t be more grateful.  Something about kissing someone with stubble that reminds you, “Hey, you’re with a man.”

•  Chest hair Which leads me to chest hair.  It’s not a requirement, but it sure gets you major bonus points.  And men who are out there shaving or waxing your chests–QUIT IT.  If you can’t grow chest hair, it’s cool.  It wasn’t in your genes.  But if you can, by God let that forest GROW!  If I wanted to date someone who shaved more than his face, I’d date a woman.

Smile I’m a sucker for a crooked smile.

Eyes For leering eyes, the kind that can give you chills from across the room.

•  Butt Most men don’t have them, but when they do, mmhmm.  That’s part of the reason I go to baseball games.

•  Long hair… Mike is going to get so annoyed with me for putting this one on here…seeing as he doesn’t have really long hair.  He did at one time, and if I can scrounge up some files of Mike’s old hair, I will gladly post them.  The long hair thing isn’t a necessity either, but there’s something wild about a man who’ll let it grow like that.  Something untamed that just begs for me to make him fall in love with me.   (Sorry for the influx of Brad Pitt here at the end, but he’s a mighty fine example of everything I love–especially in Legends of the Fall.)

What revs you up?

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2011 in Daily Happenings

 

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My Least Favorite Parts of the Body

You can quit your perversion right now–this is not a post that will go that direction.  But there are parts of the body that really freak me out.  Parts that I prefer not to look at.  Parts that make me cringe under most circumstances.  This is that list.

Knees- Maybe it’s because of the way they break down as you age.  Maybe it’s the crack they’ve been making lately as I stand up from doing my squats.  Maybe it’s the fact that they’re just freaking ugly.  Really freaking ugly–which could be attributed to the fact that I believe my knees are ‘scrunchy.’  Knees, full of kneecaps and ligaments and if you straighten your legs, sometimes the skin gets sucked in on the sides.  And sometimes your skin scrunches up around your knees, and BLECH.  And the backs of knees are just lumpy and weird.  Not to mention, incredibly hard to shave.

Teeth- Maybe it’s because I just had two root canals.  Maybe it’s because the sound of a drill will send me through the ceiling.  If  I didn’t need teeth to chew, by golly I’d just get rid of ’em.  But they help me chew jerky, and man do I love jerky.  And I guess biting an apple wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying, not to mention wouldn’t be nearly as possible.  Here’s the thing–teeth are perfectly fine when I’m unaware of them.  As soon as they’re sensitive, hurt, or have a drill in them, I’m over teeth.

Eyebrows- Can’t flippin’ stand them.  Perhaps I have unruly eyebrows or something, but I HATE that you have to pluck them in order to give them an appropriate shape.  I HATE that the lil hairs grow back at different paces, so you’re always looking for those darn strays.  And I hate that if you screw ’em up, you have to wait until your entire eyebrow grows back in before you can start over–so you end up walking around looking like a wicked little troll with spiny eyebrows.

Fingernails- Maybe it’s because my fingernails are thin, flaky, and consistently have hangnails and ridges.  But I just don’t like them.  The only purpose they serve is to give your man a back-scratchin’.  That’s not entirely true–they do serve as screwdrivers sometimes, and scum removers.  Hm.  Still.  Don’t like ’em.

 
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Posted by on April 6, 2011 in Daily Happenings

 

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