Hair today, gone tomorrow...

Sorry, I've been meaning to post this for a while but I've been sidelined on other things... Last night, I noticed my wife had shaved her pussy (she usually is a bit "brazilian") and that reminded me. Well, actually, it reminded me to bonk her brains out - but it also reminded me of this interesting recent Economist article about the sexual development of hair.

Quite fascinating...

However, the author suggests that pubic hair did not become evolutionarily redundant because of smell. I thought that it had a lubricating function as well, stopping the skin from chafing so easily.

Nevertheless, it makes some interesting points particularly on beards:

"The theory here is that sexual selection has kept facial hair in men, presumably because this advertises their male hormones. But why, then, do so many men, in so many cultures, shave them off? ... perhaps, shaving is popular because facial shape in humans is a sexually dimorphic characteristic. Men tend to have squarer jaws than women, and they shave to highlight this. If so, this would explain the trend for emphasising the edge of the jawline with a fringe of hair. But moustaches are a mystery, to evolutionary biologists and to practically everyone else.

Finally, I came across this hooker joke that tickled my fancy:

Tony Blair started jogging near his home in Chequers. Every day, he'd jog past a hooker standing on the same street corner. He learned to brace himself as he approached her for what was almost certain to follow.

"Fifty pounds!" she'd shout from the curb.

"No! Five pounds!" Tony would fire back.

This ritual between Tony and the hooker became a daily occurrence. He'd run by and she'd yell, "Fifty pounds!" He'd yell back, "Five pounds!"

One day, Cherie decided that she wanted to accompany her husband on his jog. As the jogging couple neared the working woman's street corner, Tony realized she'd bark her £50 offer and Cherie would wonder what he'd really been doing on all his past outings. He figured he'd better have a darnn good explanation for the 'Boss'. As they jogged into the turn that would take them past the corner, Tony became even more apprehensive than usual.

Sure enough, there was the hooker. Tony tried to avoid the prostitute's eyes as she watched the pair jog past. Then, from the sidewalk, the hooker yelled, "See what you get for five quid?!"

I can't help but feel that Cherie gets the shitty end of the stick from all and sundry. I should feel sorry for her but I do wonder if she isn't her own worst enemy sometimes.

Enjoy...