Tuesday, April 16, 2024

 Pretty sure I've posted something like this before. Found it on Reddit, agree with 99% . . .


In Defense of Body Hair

My brother was barely able to contain his laughter as he plopped the dusty old shoebox into my lap. Turned out it was my '70s porn stash from High School. He'd unearthed it while cleaning out Mom's garage.
At first, I worried that my bro's laughter might have been masking whatever psychological trauma he had incurred while going through the box, but no; the pictures were actually pretty innocent and almost quaint: my favorite JC Penny underwear models, a shirtless Joe Namath, Jim Palmer in his Jockey shorts, Burt Reynolds wearing nothing but a smile....
As we continued through the stacks, we couldn't help but notice that the men were hirsute! It was as if lusty brigades of coarse, dark hair had conquered every territory south of their Adam's Apples. We'd obviously forgotten about the days when body hair was considered a positive and even sexy (!) attribute.
What happened? How and when did hair become an endangered species? And is the pendulum finally swinging back? I love body hair. It was the first thing that ever turned me on about guys.
The only men who still seem to have a positive attitude about their fur are the Bears. I love ultra-hirsute Bear men, with their thick, sprawling forests of sexy body hair, but why do some feel the need to create a "defensible space", so to speak, around their privates? Why not just leave the pubes alone? For me, the sudden juxtaposition of dense growth and bare skin can be a bit of a turn off: during sex, I sometimes feel as if I'm a pilot approaching a South American drug lord's covert landing strip, and while I appreciate the accommodating gesture, I'd just assume take my chances parachuting into the thickets, with a 5 day supply of rations if you know what I mean.
Then you've got the young trimmer artist types, whose below-the-belt masterpieces have been preserved for posterity thanks to the millions of selfies they've uploaded to the Internet over the years. I've observed round bushes, square bushes, rectangular bushes, and even triangles. Impressive work for sure, but it's about as arousing as taking a garden tour through the English countryside. I prefer Safaris, with a local guide and translator in tow.
At the farthest extreme are those of you who shave it all: chest, arms, legs, buttocks...nothing is spared. For my tastes, y'all look like mannequins. Up close, the sea of vacant follicles makes me feel as though I'm caressing a raw supermarket chicken. And 24 hours later, the rough stubble's back. Far be it for me to complain about the complimentary cheek exfoliation I get while doing my thing, but honestly, it just feels weird.
OK, full disclosure here: I Nair my back. I'm pretty good at getting my upper and lower back covered, but I've almost dislocated my shoulder while trying to slather up the mid-region. (Mom's offered to help out, but dude, no!) After rinsing off, the end result looks more like deforestation than depilation: a few trees remain standing, others lie beside their stumps, twisted and broken.
I'm also not above plucking those damn 3-inch wiry eyebrow hairs that seem to pop out of nowhere. But guys, what's up with the eyebrow-sculpting? Personally, nothing says "spank me" like a thick monobrow.
We know that the Ancients used to shave their bodies and pluck their eyebrows in order to keep the bugs away and maintain a fresh, adolescent look; but that was then, and this is now: Today we have shampoos for the critters and a much healthier attitude towards aging--contemporary gay men don't consider themselves washed up until well into their 22's. That's progress, I tell you!
So why the persistent aversion to fur? We tolerate beards, and these days foreskins are all the rage. When it comes to recapturing our caveman selves, we're already two thirds of the way there, aren't we?
Let's take the final step and toss the razors and the trimmers and even the Nair. This shameful era of hairmophobia must come to an end!

# # #