Wednesday, July 17, 2013



Those little red projections we have on our chest. Yes, we all have them, but for some reason our social morals won’t let us show them.
Now us guys can take off our shirt and walk around topless with no trouble, but when the feminine persuasion tends to follow a topless look, they are arrested for indecent exposure. What is up with that?
We have formed a society that indulges in taking a peek at the ladies breast. Yet every magazine or photo shot requires the female to place a hand or arm or a wave of hair over the nipple. Why?
They all look the same. Both guys and girls have the same protruding pink vessel, but only the ladies can feed the young. They also have more profound mammalian protrusions. So what is the problem? It can’t be the soft curvy breast but the nipple itself.
Perhaps the titillation (sorry) increases our desire between sexes? Perhaps when we (and I’m just talking about us guys now) finally get to see the full wonder of the breast, we become consumed with passion that forces us to mate and propagate?
Shoot I don’t know the answer but I just bought a magazine showing the latest guitars and there are these “ladies” in scanty underwear posing suggestively with this wood glued together with wire strings. Even the checker put the magazine in a plastic bag to hide the cover.
Reminders of the old car magazines from the 50’s with ladies in waiting draped across the hoods of shiny metal. Or maybe Wanda White but she is a little more clothed. The same images that hung as calendars in auto repair shops or secretly lived in men’s lockers, the image of young women in their underwear filled this magazine. I’m not sure of the message. Was the girl in lace pulling down her bikini briefs make the guitar more attractive or the other way around?
I appreciate the good lines and craftsmanship (I wonder why it is “manship” and not “personship”?) of a carved piece of wood and the polish of a guitar. I’ve always said “To hold the right guitar is like making love to a woman.” Sexist? Maybe, but there is a certain feel of a fine sculptured machine held close to the body.
So I will pay the $8.00 for this almost Maxim magazine with girls in their underwear and high heels pouting to the camera as if this wooden instrument was a dildo. At a brief glance there is not much of interest between pages and there are no nipples.

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